Newcastle Under Lyme likes to think itself as the less downmarket version of Stoke On Trent, but any resident would be able to tell you this is not the case.
Apparently, all the UK’s gold supplies are controlled from this town. And indeed there is a pompous, flashy marble building called ‘The Gold Centre’. And what do you find where there is flashy gold? You’ll only need one guess, I’m sure.
The local ***** may be attracted by this building, but they don’t hang around it as more potent **** bait lies several hundred metres to the right. Market stalls selling ‘sportswear’ and ‘smoking accessories’, plus the multiplex cinema all within touching distance of each other. And should yer **** be too drunk or stoned to walk the short distance to the Maccy D’s, there’s a Subway within puking distance.
Newcastle has been a **** magnet for quite a while, since the town centre has been turning itself into a single giant chain pub. It has a Wetherspoon’s, a Yates’s and a Hogshead. On the same street. There are also plenty of late night 120 decibel ‘music’ and booze dispensers, including an establishment called ‘Edwards’ which is very hard to leave, but only because the floor is so sticky with things you just don’t wanna see.
You can always tell who are the uber-Ch@vs of the moment by seeing them on their throne – the benches outside WH Smith. It is presumed it came to be this way because it’s a good place to abuse non-**** market stall holders and the people who run the Christian Listening Point booth. The sole saving grace is the fact that the local Argos is tiny and at the back of a single-floor mall making it hard for the ***** to metastisise into a large cancerous lump.
Out of town there is the local Asda supermarket which is open 24 hours a day. Curse with a location which is an exact midpoint between Newcastle’s living pub crawl and the fleshpots of Hanley, all sorts are seen on Friday nights. Watch in horror as bands of trackie, hoodie and cap wearers roam around the store, abusing staff, demanding booze and cigarettes (despite it being 3am and carrying no ID), and giving the doors a damn good kicking for no sane reason, dropping their choccy milk and Monster Munch on the floor as they do so.
Also there are several nearby **** populated estates such as Knutton and Silverdale. Popular legend has it that anyone driving slowly down a street in these places would have their car thoroughly stripped to the extent that after a mere 20 seconds the driver would only be in possession of the steering wheel. But most are too scared to find out.
On a topical note, it’s been snowing in Newcastle today. Law abiding residents stay indoors! Even if one snowflake fell on the town, the ***** would declare a school amnesty (presuming they knew what school was), and occupy the town’s grass verges, throwing snowballs at passing vehicles. Meanwhile, Headmasters everywhere lock up the school as they know only 2% of the pupils will turn up that day.
