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About Jelgava

Drives me mad, though—council don’t give a toss, leave her to the wolves. Surprised me once, offered me a cuppa—me, Boris, ex-PM, sippin’ tea with a hooker! Nearly spat me PG Tips out—*deus ex machina*, random as hell. She’s a laugh, calls me “posh git,” reckon she’d fit right in at a Tory bash. Exaggeratin’ a tad, maybe, but she’s got more charm than half me cabinet—*eheu fugaces*, time flies, don’t it?

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Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud honking. I look up, and it’s a bunch of kids on bikes, racing down Jāņa iela. They’re screaming and laughing, and I’m like, “Dude, I wanna be that carefree again!” But then one of ‘em almost crashes into a car. Yikes! Heart attack moment! But they just laugh it off. Kids, man.

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