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About Birmingham

Now, me, I’d overengineer it. Prob’ly build a drone—call it "Hooker Hawk"—to scout ‘em out. Efficiency, baby! But real talk, it’s sketchy as hell. You’re dodgin’ cops, creeps, and—worst case—some STD that’d make your dick look like a SpaceX reject pile. Made me mad once, thinkin’ bout the risks—guys gettin’ scammed, girls gettin’ screwed over worse. System’s broken, yo. “The world is full of obvious things,” Ida’d say—damn straight, like how dumb it is we ain’t fixed this shit.

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Asian with an elastic ass managed to finish with a squirt during a jerk.

Back inside, the café’s packed. I’m juggling orders like a circus clown. “One cappuccino, two lattes, and a scone!” I’m shouting. My brain’s like, “What’s happening?” But I love it. The energy is wild.

Inside Forres' former Bank of Scotland midway through its transformation into a whisky 'watering hole'