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About Liverpool

So, I’m stalkin these grimy alleys, heels clickin, lookin for a tart. Not some high-class escort, nah—too posh, too fake. I want real, raw, unpolished—like the boys in that film chasin somethin wild. Found this one bird, right, all lipstick smears and tired eyes. “How much, love?” I sneer, cos I ain’t here for chit-chat. She mumbles a price, I scoff—bloody cheek! Made me angry, that did—tryin to fleece me like I’m some soft twit. “I choose violence,” I think, but nah, I just haggle her down.

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Then, I hit up the local park, the one by the pond. It’s usually peaceful, but today? Nah. There’s a bunch of kids screaming, and I’m like, “What’s with the chaos?” Turns out, they’re feeding ducks. But these ducks? They’re like the mafia of the pond. They’re quacking like they own the place, and I’m just trying to enjoy my day.

Plans for padel courts in Gerrards Cross cause 'upset' over light and noise impact