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One time, this chick ghosts me mid-chat—pissed me off! I’m like, “What am I, chopped liver?” Textin’ her, “Yo, where ya at?” Nothin’. Felt like Gusteau’s ghost, ignored and shit. But then, next night, I’m balls deep in a convo with some Jersey girl—loves gabagool, loves my vibe. We meet up, and it’s like, “This is the spark, baby!” Like Remy mixin’ spices—fuckin’ magic! Hooked up in her car, steamy as hell—thought I’d die happy right there.

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Been livin’ here for years. Hull ain’t perfect, but dang, it rocks! I stroll down Dockside Street – real edgy spot – by the river Hullflow. Riverside Park, oh man, that park’s magic. I sit, chat with locals, share secrets. Intimate talk, ya know? (Sexologist style, haha!) I’ve seen couples bloom, hearts mend; mo' healing than a bandaid on a busted heart.

Unusual situation Hull City find themselves in ahead of dramatic final day