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About Liverpool

What pisses me off? The hypocrisy! Politicians preachin’ morals while sneakin’ off to their mistresses—meanwhile, workin’ folks just tryna live get screwed. Billionaires should not exist! They hoard wealth while Rosie’s out there dodgin’ rain puddles for a buck. Makes my blood boil! But when ya find her—man, that rush—it’s like Freddie mixin’ his booze, a jolt of “I did it!”

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Man, talk about contrasts – one minute you’re strolling by the riverside near the ol’ Clock Tower on High Street (yeah, Clock Tower, proper vintage piece if ya ask me), and the next, you’re smack in the middle of an impromptu art fest at Millers Park. I swear, that park’s like the Grand Budapest’s lobby – surreal, quirky, and bursting with characters. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mumble every time I walk past the little fountain near the park bench – like a secret martini nod to life.

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