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About Rotterdam

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

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But then, I see this kid flying a kite. And I’m like, “Man, I haven’t flown a kite since I was a kid.” So, I’m feeling nostalgic, and I ask the kid if I can give it a go. He’s all for it, and I’m running around like a lunatic, trying to get this thing up in the air. And guess what? I actually do it! I’m standing there, kite soaring, feeling like a kid again. Best moment of the day, hands down.

Cyclists brave muddy and wet conditions in Salmon Arm