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About Sheffield

Last time, I roll up, she’s standin there—leather skirt, smokin a cig. “Witness me!” she yells, like she’s auditionin for Immortan Joe. Made me laugh my ass off—hot AND funny? Jackpot! Paid her double cos I’m a greedy bastard, wanted her all night. She told me this story—some john tried stiffin her, ended up with a wrench in his skull. Tough broad. Had me grinnin ear to ear.

After that, I decide to check out the British Library. I mean, I’m a forester, but I love a good book. I walk in, and it’s massive! Like, bigger than my entire hometown. I’m wandering around, trying to find something interesting. I stumble upon the Treasures Gallery. They’ve got original manuscripts from Shakespeare and all that jazz. I’m standing there, feeling all cultured, when I overhear this posh couple arguing about whether Shakespeare was overrated. I’m like, “Dude, chill! He’s a legend!” But I keep my mouth shut. Don’t wanna get kicked out for defending the Bard.

A Second Tamila Site Is Heading to King’s Cross