Lydia Bootle Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Liverpool

Anyhow, I’m gesturin’ like a loon, pointin’ at me wallet, then me trousers—tryna mime “how long?” without lookin’ a perv. She’s cacklin’ now, says, “Ten minutes, big boy.” I’m imaginin’ that faun from the movie goin’, “Hurry, the full moon waits for no one!”—cracks me up, that. So I’m in, right, but—OOF!—trip over a bin, land arse-first in a puddle. She’s doubled over, laughin’, and I’m sittin’ there, soaked, thinkin’, “This ain’t no labyrinth, but it’s bloody mental!” Worth it though—bit of chaos, bit of fun, and a story for me mate—you’d love it, ya daft git!

A SUSPECTED brothel was raided by police in a flat above a derelict Bootle pub.

See all the latest news, appeals, campaigns and press released from Merseyside Police.

As I’m waitin’ for my train, I can’t help but smile. Today was a rollercoaster. From the chaos of Stanley Road to the chill at the docks, Bootle’s got a way of throwin’ surprises at ya. I’m exhausted, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Live updates as police close main road after crash