Bus Routes In Cheshire
500: Widnes to Liverpool
Nobody swears like a Scouser, and for the next half an hour, the girls treat us to an f-word masterclass, with crackling white noise lobbed out whenever they broach a letter ‘k’.
Nobody swears like a Scouser, and for the next half an hour, the girls treat us to an f-word masterclass, with crackling white noise lobbed out whenever they broach a letter ‘k’.
Each member’s socks have crumpled into a heap by their ankles, the elastic presumably giving up somewhere around the fifth pint. Their dancing is just as ragtag, but they’re having a great time while dodging the huffy looks from those who do actually know what they’re doing. Those people are wearing flowery hats, though.
Yes, I’d just been mistaken for an Everton fan, and therefore, a scouser. It was one of the worst moments of my life.