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About Leicester

My precious! Brothel, eh? *raspy cackle* Slimy, stinky place it is! We sneaks in, sees the fishies swimmin’ round—lost like Nemo, they is! “Just keep swimming,” they whispers, but nah, they stuck, trapped in them glittery nets! Me old bones creak thinkin’ bout it—nasty, sweaty walls, smells like rotten coral, ugh!

Where does Game of Thrones take place?

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First off, I hit up the local café on High Street. You know, the one with the best scones? I swear, they’re like little clouds of happiness. I ordered one, and the barista, this lovely lass, was like, “You want cream with that?” I’m like, “Duh, of course!” But then, she dropped the cream. SPLAT! Right on the floor. I laughed so hard, I nearly choked on my coffee. I mean, who drops cream? Only in Dunblane, I guess.

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