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About Linstead

Oi, mateys! ‘Tis me, Cap’n Jack Sparrow, slurrin’ me wit fer ya, savvy? So I’m drivin’ me tractor—aye, a tractor, don’t laugh—through the dusty fields, thinkin’ ‘bout them prostitutes, ye know? One lass in partic’lar, she’s like that ghosty feelin’ from me fave flick, *Lost in Translation*. “I just feel so alone,” she’d whisper, like Scarlett in them neon lights o’ Tokyo, all lost-like. Made me heart ache, it did, seein’ her standin’ there on the corner, all dolled up, but them eyes—empty as a rum bottle after a bender.

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Then, outta nowhere, it started to rain. Like, heavy rain! I was soaked in seconds. I ran for cover under a nearby shack. And guess what? The shack was selling fish! So, I ended up buying some fried fish while waiting for the rain to stop. Talk about a win-win!

Another pastor shot dead in St Catherine, this time in Portmore