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Course, there’s the rub—price ain’t cheap. Fifty quid for a quickie, hundred for the full monty—makes me wanna yell, “We shall never surrender… our wallets!” Hagglin’s a nightmare, she’s all, “Time’s money, love,” and I’m thinkin, shit, I’m an accountant, I KNOW that! Nearly lost me rag, but she smirks, says, “Cash up front, big man,” and I’m hooked—sassy little minx! Funniest bit? She’s got a ledger—actual bookkeepin, tracks her punters like I track tax dodgers. Blew me mind—prossie with a balance sheet!

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Oh man, last week I was supposed to deliver a massage, but then my smartass self got distracted by the beauty of the Turing Park. That park? It's a chestnut of surprise – pathways that disappear into dunno where, a couple of old oak trees that look like they’ve seen centuries of secrets. Seriously, it had me thinkin’, “It’s a setup, people!” Crazy vibes, yeah.

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