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About Liverpool

Here’s a lil’ secret, tho—prostitutes got networks, man. They talk. Word spreads fast if you’re a creep or a saint. Back in ‘98, my boy Tony—he’s a loudmouth—pissed one off. Next day? Every girl in a five-mile radius iced him out. Hilarious, motherfucker! Had me laughin’ ‘til I damn near cried. “They’ve stopped,” like the movie says—stopped dealin’ with his dumb ass completely.

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First lesson of the day, I’m at the top of the hill on Edale Road. Beautiful view, right? But then, my student, bless their heart, can’t find the clutch. I’m like, “C’mon mate, it’s not a hidden treasure!” We’re stalling out like a broken record. I’m sweating bullets, and the traffic behind us is piling up. I can feel the eyes on me. “What’s this bloke doin’?” I can hear ‘em thinkin’.

A High Peak book store's plea for customers as shop is open despite roadworks