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Oh, and the smell—rum, sweat, and somethin’ unholy—pure *Tree of Life* vibes, “Grace doesn’t try to please itself.” Grace my arse, she’s pleasin’ herself to my wallet! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d wager she’s bedded half the fleet and still kicks like a mule. Personal quirk—I’m mutterin’ to meself, “Ricky, you daft twat, why’d ya bother?” Cos it’s a laugh, innit! Whores—they’re the real sailors, ridin’ waves of idiots like me. Sarcasm? Mate, she’s a walkin’ punchline— “Oh, bless ya, captain, you’re me first today!” Yeah, and I’m the bloody Pope!

🗺️ Day 1 Itinerary

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Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being an auctioneer in Janub-as-Surrah is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. One minute you’re chillin’, the next you’re dodging chaos like it’s a game of dodgeball.