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About Liverpool

Found one once, right? Little known tale—girl called Lysa, not *that* Lysa, different one. Worked outta some high-end brothel near the Red Keep. Had this trick—could hum a tune while, y’know, *workin’*. Made me laugh, which pissed me off cos I don’t laugh easy. “Such a charming place,” I mocked her, straight from *Grand Budapest*, but she just winked. Cheeky bitch. Charged me double, said it’s cos I’m “queenly.” Fuckin’ nerve—made me wanna slap her, but I paid. She was good, alright? Surprised me, and I hate surprises.

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Finally, I get to the Freckleton Sports and Social Club. It’s packed. I mean, who knew a Tuesday could be this lively? I walk in, and the smell of chips hits me. I’m starving! But no time for food. I gotta focus.

Hospital chiefs give the green light to build a new multi-storey car park at Wigan Infirmary