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About Newcastle

I was strollin’ one night—okay, maybe stumblin’, had a few beers—thinkin’ about how corrupt this world is. Saw this gal, fishnets, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ against a busted lamppost. Looked tired, but tough—like she’d seen some shit. Made me sad, man. “Who’s gonna save us?”—that’s straight from *Leviathan*, and it hit me hard. Nobody’s savin’ her, ‘cept maybe herself. That’s the spirit I love! Resilient as fuck.

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By the time I’m done, I’m exhausted but buzzing. I decide to take a stroll down to the local pub, The Red Lion. Gotta unwind, right? I grab a pint, and the bartender’s this lovely woman named Sue. She’s got the best banter. We’re chatting about the weather, and she’s like, “Typical Welsh, innit? Rain one minute, sun the next!” I’m just nodding, thinking, “You’ve got that right!”

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