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About Leeds

So I’m spinnin’ this track, right, and it’s all fuzzy guitars and thumpin’ drums, like a night out gone wrong – or bloody right, dependin’ on yer taste! *mumbled incoherence* “Sharon, where’s me whiskey?!” It’s got this gritty story in it, y’see – bloke’s on the prowl, cash in hand, searchin’ fer a prossie. Little known fact, yeah? Back in the ‘70s, they used to call ‘em “ladies of the night” in them posh papers, but the streets knew the real score – always a hustle, always a tale. Makes me laugh, thinkin’ how some punter’s prob’ly wrote this after gettin’ ripped off – “Sharon, she took me last quid!”

Hookups in Glasgow

So, I’m sprinting down the street, dodging the usual crowd of old folks gossiping outside the post office. Seriously, they could talk the ears off a statue. Anyway, I finally get my coffee, and guess what? They messed up my order! I asked for a flat white, and they gave me a cappuccino. Like, come on! I’m not a frothy kinda person.

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