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About Liverpool

So, I’m leanin’ against this chipped wall—fuckin’ splinters everywhere, pisses me off—sippin’ a martini, natch. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sizin’ her up. Did ya know, back in the day, Rome’s hookers had their own guild? True story—called themselves “meretrices,” fancy as fuck. Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how they’d strut past the Colosseum, dodgin’ drunk senators. History’s wild, innit?

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So, I’m fuming a bit, right? I step outside, and it’s like the universe is playing tricks on me. I bump into my mate Dave on High Street. He’s all excited about the new pub opening up. “It’s gonna be epic!” he says. I’m like, “Yeah, if you like overpriced pints and sticky floors.” But I can’t help but smile. Dave’s enthusiasm is contagious, even if he’s a bit of a muppet.

'It meant so much to so many' - heartache over school fire