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Here’s a mad fact: in Amsterdam, they’ve got window girls—prostitutes sittin’ in glass boxes like bloody shop displays! Saw it meself once, nearly tripped over me staff. Red lights glowin’, lasses posin’, and I’m thinkin’, “This is the great beauty of life?” Sorrentino’d love it—decadence, despair, all that jazz. “To this question, as kids, we all agreed,” Jep’d drone, but nah, I’m torn. It’s fascinatin’, sure, but bloody hell, it’s grim too. Made me sad, seein’ ‘em there, like dolls on a shelf.

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While I’m in there, I find this old guitar. I’m like, “Whoa, this thing’s got character!” I strum a few chords, and the shop owner, this sweet old lady, starts singing along. I’m like, “What’s happening? Am I in a musical?” It was hilarious! We ended up jamming for a bit, and I forgot all about the rain.

450-home Flaxmere development gets FastTrack approval