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About Liverpool

Still, I love it— the thrill, the chase! Like scalpin’ Nazis in Tarantino’s finest, it’s messy, bloody fun! Ye dodge the creeps, laugh at the weirdos—some bloke asked me to lick his peg leg once, I says, “Not my brand o’ rum, mate!”—and when it works, oh, it’s gold! Last month, met a lass who quoted, “That’s a pretty fuckin’ good milkshake!” from *Pulp Fiction*, and I knew she’s me kinda crazy!

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After the meeting, I’m walking down the High Street again, and I see this cute little café called The Knowle Kitchen. I pop in for a cuppa. The barista is super friendly, and I’m like, “You know what? I need a slice of cake.” So I order a piece of chocolate cake, and it’s massive! Like, I could use it as a doorstop. But it’s so good, I don’t even care.

Tributes paid to the "king of Knowle West" who devoted his life to city