I come from the ****** little town they call bromsgrove. The town is full of either old people or *****(Harry Bestwick AKA H-Dog). There is no escaping the smelll of cidar and draw, the streets are slippy with mucus, and every setence is finished with either “safe” or “innit”. You can’t light a *** without someone popping over your shoulder saying “sort us two’s man or i’ll bang you out,innit.”. The main hangout spot for ***** is Sanders park which has enough benches to keep the average **** happy. The ***** also hang outside the schools waiting for hometime so they can pick fights with the school kids,but only beacuse they are smaller and younger then them. The fair has come to town this week which means its a night out for the *****( Harry Bestwick), a brake from the benches they have ocuppied for so long. The redditch and rubery ***** come down to pick fights on the bromsgrove ***** when the fair is around becuase they are from different town. Dont ask me why.Probably because they arent clever enough to think of a good enough reason to pick a fight. They dont actually go on the fair rides because they have spent thier last fiver on cidar or ‘a teenth of draw man,innit,safe,respect. Even the fair is run by *****. Its on the whole actually a lovely place though if you don’t take into account the poverty situated all over the streets.
‘what you looking at?”
“im wondering how that hat isnt falling off your head,is it glued.?
“uh?”
