Cannock used to be a lovely little market town. A mix of country folk and hard working coal miners. It is now becoming the **** cess pit of Staffordshire.
Venture into town on any afternoon and you will see the scutters of society sitting outside Weatherspoons ( Once a very useful Ironmongers, now a hive for spongers ). The **** males ( we like to call them Scrotes ) necking huge ammounts of ale. The **** females exposing acres of flesh and all adorned with at least one tattoo that says ” Sell by date 1982″.
How on Earth do they afford to spend all afternoon supping ? I’ll tell you how.. None of them work, they all claim benefit, manage to get a Council flat in Carfax or Chavsmoor ( sorry Chadsmoor ) because they’ve got so many points they are off the bloody Richter Scale for Social Deprivation ( a loose term for Skivers, Sick notes and spewing out as many sprogs as you can during the reproductive years ) because we all know that ” Points make… ? “
Wednesday is Methadone day. The highlite of the week when the **** Undead shuffle into town in their designer trainers (knocked off gear from Brownhills Market ) and their Hoodies with a Burberry lining. Scaring Pensioners, shopworkers and little kids trying to buy a Quarter of Pick and Mix from Woolworths.
Tony Blair get off your knees. Stop licking George Dub’yas boots. Instead of trying to find Peter Mandel”chum” yet another job get yourself down to Cannock ( or any other town in the UK for that matter ) and see whats really been happening to our society in the last 5 years.
