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Oi, mate, it’s me, Loki—smug mischief god! I’m burdened with glorious purpose, yeah? So, let’s chat about prostitutes, ‘cos why not? Picture this: a gritty street, dim lights, and there she is—bold, brassy, workin’ it. Reminds me of *There Will Be Blood*—y’know, my fave flick. “I drink your milkshake!”—that’s her, slurpin’ up every last dime from desperate blokes. She’s got that hustle, that fire, like Daniel Plainview diggin’ for oil. I respect it, honestly—takes guts.

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Tonyrefail sits like a lurking rapist on the outskirts of the Rhondda valley, which itself is about as useful to the world as the soles of Steven Hawkings feet.

Down by the river Gwenn, I often go to reflect. The water flows like my clients’ feelings – unpredictable. There’s a tiny footbridge, barely noticeable. I almost missed it. F***in’ typical, innit?

Car three teenagers died in split in half after colliding with bus