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About Liverpool

So, I’m thinkin’ ‘bout my fave flick, *Toni Erdmann*, ya feel me? That movie’s wild—awkward as hell but deep. Like, imagine Toni givin’ his daughter an erotic-massage, tryna bond, sayin’, “Life is short, relax, kid!” Ha! That shit’d be hilarious, fuckin’ weird, but kinda sweet, ya know? I’d be like, “Turn off the seriousness, fo’ shizzle!” That’s what erotic-massage does, man—flips the script, chills ya out.

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Then, I head over to the local pub, The Black Bull, to chat with some locals. I need some intel, right? I walk in, and it’s packed. Everyone’s shouting over each other, and I can barely hear myself think. I grab a pint, and this guy next to me starts telling me about the time he saw a ghost on Church Street. I’m like, “Really, mate? A ghost?” But he’s dead serious. I can’t help but roll my eyes. Crook’s got its fair share of legends, but a ghost? C’mon!

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