Liverpool – More like Live-in-stool

Living in Liverpool, Merseyside

I am entitled to every statement I am about to make regarding this city as my parents are born and bred scousers, which therefore makes me . . gulp . . . a second generation scouser. Fortunately I have not even a hint of the accent, and for this I am eternally thankful (although the accent of my hometown is arguably just as disgusting).

Liverpool, where the **** does one start? I know. . . .the inhabitants! My god there’s a deplorable, self entitled, proud-of-themselves-for-no-reason bunch of scallywags.

If you can get past the accent and the copious amounts of phlegm that fly around every time the locals say a word with the letters c or k in them you have passed the first test. Don’t ever engage in conversation with a scouser about crockery or Krakow in Poland or you will surely be drenched.

How grim is your Postcode?

A word of warning to non-scouse females, fail to go into town with the required levels of fake tan and you will instantly be sniffed out as a fraud. Seriously, the girls here are so unbelievably orange that even the thickest of sunglasses will be rendered useless. It literally peels the retinas from your eyeballs.

Now, as seems to be required by every post on this site, I must bring your attention to the ***** of this fine city. Now here is the problem, Liverpool does not suffer with ***** in the way many other cities do, but this is because if you look very closely, every single scouser is a ****! I know, crazy right?? But I noticed last time I was in the city (visiting relatives btw, why else would anyone go there by choice).

Even the ‘respectable’ looking ones carry undertones of **** in a way that I simply can’t describe.

Liverpool’s history is what has shaped its unique culture. Situated on the border of Northern England and Wales, it draws the very worst characteristics of both regions, i.e Welsh pig-headedness and Northern self rightiousness. Add to this the vast number of people of Irish heritage and you have a truly toxic stew of humanity.

The rows of empty red brick terraces are now almost a part of Liverpool’s heritage. Fancy that, hundreds of empty houses amidst a housing crisis yet still nobody wants them. Says it all really.

A stroll along the docks rewards you with the salty tang of seaweed and fish. Ahhh how refreshing. Until you realise that the smell is actually coming from the people.

In short- Liverpool is terrible and so are its people.

Have a good day! (unless you’re in Liverpool in which case this will be impossible).