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What gets me proper mad, though? The hypocrisy. Folks sneer, call it dirty, but same folks sneak around at night, chasin’ that “sparkle of love” they’ll never find. Makes my blood boil! Like, own it or shut it, yeah? Anyway, back to the streets—there’s this one lass, red lipstick bright as a ruby, leanin’ against a lamppost. She’s got that *Moulin Rouge* magic, all charm and danger, like Satine herself singin’ “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” I’m half in love, half terrified, thinkin’, *Blimey, she could ruin me.*

Merseyside Police close down pub 'brothel' in Bootle

Two prostitutes were brutally murdered in the filthy hovels by 3 seamen. Dubbed The Teapot murders after the Tea company, because of the street's name.

After that, I decide to take a stroll down to the docks. Bootle’s got this whole maritime vibe, ya know? The water’s glistening, and I’m feelin’ all poetic. But then, I see this massive container ship. It’s like a giant floating city. I’m standin’ there, jaw on the floor, thinkin’, “How the heck do they even get those things in here?” It’s mind-blowin’.

Bootle homes evacuated as flooding hits north-west England