On Saturday night, ***** from all of Dirtford and surrounding areas congregated in Dartford Park to ‘distress/ terrorise’ the normal inhabitants of the land. These ***** were given away as trouble-makers by their terrible dress sense and the now-old concept of tucking the trackies into the socks. I myself am not a ****, but even I know this ancient **** fashion died long ago, but is yet still being paraded around by ********* still thinking is is ‘cool’.
Whilst many of us non-**** folk stared in awe at possibly the worst fireworks ever displayed in public, ***** and ********* were drinking stella, white lightning and WKD Blue, attempting to all fit into the same waltzer cart- hoping this would same them ‘bar’ (ie. money). As the fireworks exploded into their same old colours and patterns; the same as last year!, ‘whooping’ and whistling could be heard coming from the unwashed mouths of the dirty *****.
As the fireworks ended, many ***** could be seen arguing around the ‘poor-excuse-for-a-bonfire’, apparently distressed at the burning of cardboard boxes- the most luxurious were being fought over by little ********* who seemed to be in desperate need of new lodgings, which was obvious from their choice of fake designer clothes and 20p jewellery.
Walking through the fair, a group of 4-5 ********* (the youngest could have only been about 9), could be heard demanding ‘gimme a *** now!’ and were hurling abuse at innocent onlookers and passers-by.
Back on the Waltzers, after the ***** had managed to squeeze from their one cart, an older lout could be seen starting a fight with yet another ****. Unsuprisingly, the youngest of the ****-crew was bragging about it, to those who were oblivious to the earlier event.
Until the next over-priced, ****-*** fair comes to town, au revoir.
