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About Liverpool

Anyway, I saunter over, all smooth-like. “Ciao, bella,” I say, channelin’ Jep’s charm. She’s nervous, hands shaky—makes me feel a bit sad, ya know? “This city’s a graveyard,” I think, quotin’ *The Great Beauty* in my head. She’s quotin’ a price, 50 euros, cheap as chips. I’m like, “Love, you’re worth more,” but she don’t get it. Makes me mad—pimps grindin’ her down, fuckin’ bastards. I wanna punch somethin’, but I’m Bond, so I smirk instead.

McCoy's Guide

First off, I spilled my coffee all over my favorite shirt. Classic me, right? I mean, who needs a clean shirt when you’ve got a busy day ahead? Anyway, I rushed out the door, late as usual. Traffic on the A550 was a nightmare. I swear, I could’ve walked faster. I was stuck behind this ancient bus on Station Road. Like, come on, mate, it’s not a Sunday drive!

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