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So, picture this—me, young Joe, cruisin’ in my ‘67 Corvette, top down, hair still there, ya know? I’d never—never—go lookin’ for that kinda trouble. But my buddy Mike? Hoo boy, he’d drag me along, sayin’, “C’mon, man, live a little!” We’d roll up to some dive bar—neon flickerin’ like it’s half-dead. This one time, ‘round ‘82, Mike spots this gal—fishnets, red lipstick, smokin’ a cig like she owned the joint. He’s all, “Joe, she’s the one!” I’m thinkin’, “Fear’s takin’ over my head now”—like in the movie, ya get me?

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Then I decided to stroll down to the beach. Lowestoft’s got this lovely stretch of sand, right? Perfect for a walk. But as I’m walking along the promenade, I see this seagull. And not just any seagull. This one was like the king of seagulls. It swoops down, snatches a chip right outta some kid’s hand! I couldn’t help but laugh. The kid was like, “Mum! The bird stole my food!” Classic Lowestoft moment, honestly.

Gunton burial site vandalism disappointing, says Lowestoft mayor