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I tried it once, girl—thought I’d levitate! This chick’s hands? Magic. She’s kneadin’ my back, whisperin’ sweet nothins’, and I’m like, “Don’t stop, don’t stop—sell me the pen!” Straight outta Scorsese’s playbook, baby! Felt like a queen, all glowy and shit. But—ugh—some creeps ruin it, actin’ like it’s a happy-endin’ scam. Pissed me off! I’m yellin’ in my head, “This ain’t no brothel, fool!” Keep it classy, y’all.

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Then, boom! News hits. There’s a cat stuck in a tree on St. Sebastian’s Street. I mean, come on! A cat? Really? But it’s not just any cat. It’s Mr. Whiskers, the local legend. Everyone knows him. So, I grab my notepad and dash over.

This week's Journal Memory Lane features a village, a bowls team and an old town hostelry...