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About Leeds

Picked it up at some shady pawn shop, smelled like regret and stale beer. Guy said it belonged to a bluesman—died broke, screwin’ around, typical. Strings rusted, body scratched to hell, but damn, it sings. Play it, and it’s like “the screams never stop”—straight from *Son of Saul*. That dark, guttural tone, pissed me off at first—too real, too messy. Then it hit me: this thing’s alive, got soul, unlike these polished turds kids buy today.

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Wadebridge’s not all sunshine. The vibe at Highbridge Street sometimes got me fumin’. Families cryin’ over spilled tea, misunderstandings sparkin’ on quiet, rainy days. But heck, that’s life – messy, unpredictable, but beautiful like the film “A.I. Artificial Intelligence” when the machine learns to love. Like, “I’m fed up!” yeah, sometimes I get that vibe.

Falmouth Eagles end season in style with 10-try haul