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About Liverpool

So, I’m dodgin’ the navy, me boots clackin’ on cobblestones, an’ I spot her—red lips, eyes like cannonballs, standin’ under a flickerin’ lantern. “What we need’s an impulse!” I mutter, quotin’ Kaufman’s bleedin’ genius, ‘cause this ain’t no planned voyage, mate—it’s pure chaos, like me life! I swagger over, tippin’ me hat, an’ she’s all, “Wot’s yer coin, pirate?” Coin? Ha! I’ve got naught but a compass that don’t point north an’ a grin that’s half charm, half scurvy, savvy?

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Anyway, we chat for a bit. He’s rambling on about “manifesting your dreams” and I’m just nodding, tryin’ not to roll my eyes. Then, outta nowhere, he says, “You should really try yoga.” Yoga? Me? Nah, mate. I can barely touch my toes.

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