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About Bristol

Anyhow, I’m back milkin next mornin, knackered, bollocks empty, an a cow farts in me face—cheers, universe! Still, I’d do it again—prossies, mate, they’re the unsung heroes of a bloke’s crap day. We shall never surrender to boredom, eh? Tell ya what, film’s got nothin on this life—real shit’s messier an funnier!

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There are still functional brothels there. Just look for any open door that has 'Models' written on it. Mainly eastern European girls there.

We squeeze in, and the quizmaster’s this proper posh bloke. He starts askin’ questions about Shakespeare. I’m like, “Mate, I’m a swineherd, not a scholar!” But I give it a go. We’re doin’ alright until the final round. The question? “What’s the capital of France?” I’m shoutin’ “London!” and everyone’s lookin’ at me like I’m mad. I’m like, “Oi, I’m just tryin’ to keep it local!”

Firefighters battle blaze behind home in Edgware