Brixham (or “Brick’am” as the ****** locals seem to like calling it, or “********” as I call it) is a small fishing town on the South coast of Devon. Now, it may sound idyllic enough but unfortunately the ****** cancer of the big cities is slowly spreading its way down to even the further reaches of the country – namely Devon!
Where I live is thankfully a generally quiet and pleasent enough area, but over the past year our local square – St Mary’s Square – has slowly become an unwilling base for the debased moronic filth that have, for the most part, kept away from our part of the town.
It started with a few teenage louts parking their scrawny, worthless behinds on the bench that is situated just outside an archway leading to St Mary’s church, but before long more and more ***** started to recognise the square as ‘the place’ to hang out in Brixham (and for the life of me I still can not fathom why).
Much to the annoyance of the locals (me included) these useless sacks of unwashed, bumfluff-ridden ****** were soon downing their Hooch, pissing in the archway, swearing and intimidating passers-by, tearing bits out of the ancient graveyard wall and basically acting like 100% **** filth. Oh yes, lets not leave out the “fat, Marylyn Manson obsessed, BMX riding, Nu-Metal loving” **** variant that I’ve seen ******* around the more well-known “wigger-bling but have no actual money Eminem-clone” types, acting just as bad.
Soon enough a petition was circulated and a CCTV camera had to be installed (what’s the world coming too!?) to monitor the unruly mob. Soon after a curfew was introduced by the local police (Ha ha! **** filth! Piss off!) and they all crawled away to their council houses and unemployed fat-assed mothers to spend their nights eating micro-chips and alphabites in front of the rented TV…
Well, it would be nice to say that the ***** were no longer an issue for St Mary’s square, but unfortunately the mouthy little townie sods have indeed returned and I fear it’s gonna start all over again…
