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About London

So, I’m stumblin’—prolly high, who knows—down some grimy block. Neon signs screamin’ “Girls! Girls!” like a damn circus. I see this chick, right? Leaned up, smokin’, lookin’ like she owns the corner. I’m like, “Yo, you the queen of this chaos?” She laughs, all raspy—fuckin’ legend. Reminds me of *Moolaadé*, that line—“Purification is a lie!”—‘cept here it’s like, “Purity? What’s that, fam?” She’s hustlin’, survivin’, dodgin’ cops like it’s a game. Respect, yo.

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Man, what a day in Driffield! Seriously, I’m still buzzing from it all. Woke up this mornin’ in my tiny flat on Middle Street, and I swear, the sun was shinin’ like it was tryin’ to blind me. I’m not a morning person, ya know? But today felt different.

Little Driffield: A village rich in history, from saints to surprising fundraisers