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About Liverpool

Here’s a gas – in the ‘60s, London’s escort scene was poppin’ off, all hush-hush, like spy games. Blokes in suits, birds in miniskirts, meetin’ in smoky pads. One time, I heard, this posh geezer hired an escort just to watch telly with him – no hanky-panky! What a nutter, eh? Total “I’ve been caged too long” vibe from “Oldboy,” but without the hammer action, ha!

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Anyway, I shake it off (literally) and head over to the Lofthouse Park. It’s a nice spot, you know? Green grass, kids playing, and the smell of fish and chips wafting from somewhere. I’m thinking, “This is the life!” But then I see this group of kids playing footy. They’re all over the place, kicking the ball like it’s a World Cup final. One of ‘em kicks it right at me. I dodge it like a pro, but I’m still fuming. “Watch where you’re kicking, mate!” I shout. They just laugh. Kids, right?

Lofthouse Statue Back To Its Best