We arrived in Liverpool mid-afternoon. As we left the train, the stench of sewage and abundance of scallies was rather overwhelming, but after a few hours of acclimatising in our nearby apartment we were ready to prowl the streets in search of entertainment. Unfortunately the only shops in Liverpool are Poundland's, the only pubs are Irish and the only restaurants are McDonald's. Furthering our frustration was the inherent language barrier, rendering it nearly impossible to converse with anyone.
So after a few hours of doing fuck-all we headed to a friends place in Birkenhead, where we started getting our drank on. We liked Birkenhead, despite its horrifically high crime rates the people were lovely and they hated Scousers almost as much as we did. However, our taxi back to Liverpool was what we can only describe as very distasteful. The driver was a fat, racist pig with a real dislike towards to Southerners. Moreover, he thought of himself as a Northern Lenny McLean, claiming that he was threatened with a knife and overpowered the antagonist by utilising his bountiful amounts of hate. Fat prick.
We headed into the first bar of the night, the infamous 'Slaters Bar', famous for its 'Quad-Vod' drinks. For just £5 we were served four shots of Vodka and a WKD in a pint glass, they should sell this shit everywhere. Needless to say, two or three Quad-Vod's later, we were in fine shape for the club.
To combat Northern Alcoholism, heavy fines are in place.
As we arrived at the club we noticed that it was a gay bar. Why our 'tour guides' decided to bring us there must've been some kind of sick joke. We wanted the real Scouse experience, violence and tarts, not gay's and poppers, we can get that shit easily enough in Brighton. Luckily, our experience in there was short-lived. We headed into a local Kebaby on the walk back where we were welcomed by a variety of Southern hating, brainless cunt's. One of the lads decided to pick a fight with the brick shit-house of Liverpool, needless to say, that was a fucking dumb idea.
The next day we were forced out the apartment at the crack of dawn, as we're such nice guys we made sure the apartment was left in as shit of a state as possible. Thoughtful. We ended the trip with a fry-up, a couple of cans of Kronenbourg and a few spins down the bookies. Oh, and yeah, one of us did get robbed, so all of our presumptions of Liverpool were very, very true. yep, geddon!