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Now, I ain’t judgin’—live n’ let live, yeah? Had me a giggle once, mate dragged me to one—dim lights, oil everywhere, lass whisperin’ sweet nothins. Felt like a king—till the bill hit! £80? For a rub? “The fog’s gettin’ thicker, man!” I roared, pure Doc-style. Surprised me, tho—some o’ these places got legit skills. Thai-style erotic-massage? Stretches ya bits in ways ya didn’t know possible—bloody hell, I was limber after! But the fakers? They grind me gears—ruinin’ it for the honest lot.

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After that, I decided to hit up the local art gallery on Östra Storgatan. I thought, “Hey, let’s get some culture in this day.” But the gallery was closed! Closed! I was like, “What is this, a joke?” I mean, it’s not like I’m askin’ for much. Just a little art, ya know?

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