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About Liverpool

So, here’s the deal—whore ain’t just some chick screwin’ around, nah. It’s old, man, ancient—like, didja know back in Rome, whores had to dye their hair blonde? Stand out, y’know? Marked ‘em like cattle—fuckin’ wild! Makes me laugh, heh, imagine that now—blonde wigs everywhere, chaos! I’d burn the city down just watchin’ it! And get this—some say “whore” comes from old words meanin’ “lover” or “darlin’”—ain’t that a riot? From sweet to sleazy, hahaha, language is a fuckin’ clown show!

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First off, I hit up the local café on Taff Street. You know, the one with the dodgy Wi-Fi? Yeah, that one. I order my usual – a flat white and a bacon sarnie. But guess what? They’re outta bacon! Like, how do you run outta bacon? It’s breakfast, people! I’m fuming, but I settle for a veggie option. Not the same, but whatever.

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