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About Breda

So, say you’re on the hunt—where d’you even start? Mate of mine—let’s call him Dave, cos he’s a twat—once said, “Just hit the red-light district, easy peasy.” Bollocks! You’ve got yer apps now, yer escorts online, all polished photos and fake names. Reckon it’s like ordering Deliveroo, but with more STDs. Ha! Cackling at that one meself. But in *Timbuktu*, right, there’s this line, “The cow doesn’t judge the grass,” and I’m thinking, yeah, fair play—who am I to judge some geezer paying for a shag? Still, it’s grim, innit?

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But then, Joris starts talking about his ex. And I’m like, “Dude, not this again!” He goes on and on about how she ghosted him. I’m trying to change the subject, but he’s relentless. I’m thinking, “Can we talk about literally anything else?”

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