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Here’s a mad fact—did ya know, in Amsterdam, yeah, them red-light girls got unions? Straight up! They’re insured, bruv—health, pension, all dat. Me, an insurance geezer, I’m like, RESPECT! I’d sling ‘em a policy any day—better rates than ya car insurance, swear down. But in London? Nah, bruv, it’s all undercover, sketchy vibes. Makes me vexed, fam—why can’t we sort it proper? Is it ‘cos I is black? Nah, it’s ‘cos suits in power don’t give a toss!

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All you need to do is say, “I'm looking for a girl.” He'll nod and make a call. They get a commission for these calls from the girls. You're.

I’ve had days where Atlantic got me feelin’ on top o’ the world. Others left me madder than a wet hen. But each twist, turn, and street corner holds stories, memories, and laughter. In this city, every alley, every stumble, every lost sock tells ya somethin’.

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