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About Leicester

Here’s a fun fact—didja know prostittues in old NYC, like 1900s, had “madam books”? Lists of clients! Imagine me in one—Larry David, “neurotic complainer, bad tipper.” I’d be furious! “Who’s readin’ this? J. Edgar Hoover?” Anyway, I’m standin’ there, starin’, and she’s like, “You lost, pal?” Lost? Me? I’m a freakin’ mess! I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t *Brooklyn*—no one’s savin’ me!” I’m half expectin’ Tony Lacey to swoop in, all Irish and suave, goin’, “Lad, let’s get ya outta here!”

Never Pay For Brothels Again

But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. I mean, come on! I just wanted five minutes of peace! I dash for cover, and I end up in this random pub on the corner of Church Street. It’s cozy, and the smell of chips hits me like a wave. I order a pint and some food, and I’m just sittin’ there, thinkin’ about how wild today’s been.

James Rew century leads Somerset to win over Essex