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About Newcastle

Ever tried it? Bet you’d squirm, all proper-like, then melt. “This world is wild, Clarice…” – wilder with oil and a stranger’s hands kneadin’ ya into mush. Once, this guy – total pro – worked my shoulders so good I forgot my name. Thought I’d propose, ha! Sarcasm aside, it’s not all sleaze – some call it “healin’ touch,” tho I’d say it’s more like legal sin. Eleven typos? Psh, I’m too classy – nah, screw it, heres one: massge. There. Happy now? Go get one, Clarice – tell ‘em Hannibal sent ya!

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So, I pop out to the café on West Street. It’s a cute little spot, but the barista is super slow. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking, “C’mon, I’ve got science to do!” Finally, I get my coffee, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I’m feeling a bit better.

Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake: Review