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Little fact for ya—didja know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to flash green gloves? Secret code, innit—sneaky buggers! Saw that on X once, blew me mind! Imagine me, wavin’ me green garden gloves, thinkin’ I’m in on it—*slaps forehead*—what a plonker! Got me all giddy, though—love a good secret, me. But then, ooh, got mad—some punter yelled, “Oi, weirdo!” at me. Cheeky sod! Nearly chucked me trowel at ‘im, but I tripped—*thud!*—landed in a puddle, typical!

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There’s also that big ol' park, "Ogle Park", with its rickety benches and old fountain. I often take my breaks there—quiet, peaceful, calm. The trees whisper secrets, yes, and I hears them: "Remember... remember..."—yesss, like we all do in Memento, told our own twisted stories.

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