I live in Liverpool in a lovely historic houseo towards the southern sub urban and rarely venture out to merseyside due to the filthy chav society it you can call it that.
As I recently moved to Liverpool , the are is somewhat unfamiliar to me so I decided to take a drive one lovely sunday afternoon .
I was driving near princes park and lost my way ,the turning I took must have been wrong because I ended up in Merseyside which seemed to be a very unsavoury place even at the best of times but today many hooded youths lined the streets clad in flashy Nike shoes and apparel of Fred perry.
Down a shady street , each side of me houses were evident with squalor and decay ,men in grubby tank tops squatted in filth and every so often a house looked nice with a flashy car so I was able to determine where drug lords lived determined with the squalor of the rest of the council estate .
The further I drove in to hell the more I wanted to be far far away from Merseyside .Eventually I reached a place where a group of eight or nine youths loitered next to a red golf and a blue golf both of which were engineered with brightly coloured wheel rims and spoilers .
I decided to ask directions and rolled my car window to converse with these young men , as I drew near the youths stopped kicking their larger cans and all turned to stare at me threateningly.”Excuse me lads I am lost and wondered if you could give me directions to the city centre , to which one said in a dialect I was unfamiliar with although I picked up the jist ” Mate I will put a bottle in Your throat, me and the Mersey Crew will batter you ” The youth kicked my car and tried to force the door open, which I thank god was locked and drove , I put a few miles between me and the “Mersey crew” when I realised I was driving in more familiar teritory.
The moral of the story never go to Merseyside i beg unless you a) are six foot nine and are knotted with muscle or b) if you want to get “battered”