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About Liverpool

Here’s a quirky bit—didja know some old ports had “prostitute fish”? Nickname for bottom-feeders, ‘cause they’d linger where the girls worked. Stinky, slimy, perfect match! Cracked me up, but also—eww, right? My brain’s like, “Dr. Evil, don’t overthink it,” but I do. Always. Exaggerating? Maybe. But it’s a jungle out there—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—and these dames are apex predators.

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After work, I decide to take a stroll around Cramlington. I hit up the local park, and it’s packed with kids playing footy. I used to play there when I was younger. Nostalgia hits hard. I sit on a bench, watching them, and I can’t help but smile. It’s nice to see the community come together, even if it’s just for a kickabout.

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