I grew up in Bourne back in the days when it had a population of a mere six thousand benighted souls. It was a violent place especially for an outsider. On my first day at school, aged four, I came out of the classroom and watched the other boys run across the playground egged on […]
Beyonce once sang “WHO RUNS THE WORLD?”. Ladies shouted back……”GIRLS!”. Middle aged people in Droylsden screamed “Kids! ******* f*cking little teenage kids” Droylsden has a dark little secret that nobody outside of Droylsden knows. That secret is anyone over the age of 25 is petrified of kids. Schoolkids, gangs of kids, kids in hoods, kids […]
It would have been a lot better if Sergei Skripal lived in Torquay rather than Salisbury because at least the government spends money on things other than benefits and combating knife crime in the latter. But even then, I’m not sure the Novichok would have been enough to deter all the bargain loving ***** who […]
I’ve lived in this little sh*thole of despair all my life. Traditionally a haven for the standard Manchester scally; Adidas tracksuit, crappy old banger, let’s not dwell on it. Lately the dreaded hipsters have moved from their habitat in the Northern Quarter to the working-class areas of Manchester. The f*ckwits [“lovely journalists” – Ed] over […]
Living in Farnborough is like living in purgatory; it’s neither here nor there. ‘The bargain bin of Hampshire’, I’ve overheard. The drab town adequately situates itself between having just enough shops to not **** oneself from boredom and too little homeware stores to purchase items to make killing oneself an actual reality. You’d think a […]
I have lived in Llanelli all my life. At first sight, it seems like a nice town. When I was a child, it seemed all normal. But as I got older, I realised how behind the town is. With the exception of a few people in my family, everyone seems to be stuck in a […]
Read More… from Llanelli – will it ever move with the times? No.
If you are talking Northampton you are talking Abington Street to begin your visit, the once thriving and traditional main shopping thoroughfare having its teeth punched out, gaps filled with the perfunctory charity shops, pawn brokers, fast food restaurants and mobile phone repair shops (why is it only Afghans that work in those?) or simply […]
I went to school in Daventry and lived in a village nearby until I scarpered to London in 1997, aged 19. I couldn’t wait. Years later, I’m browsing Facebook and find out a school mate had made it to Australia, married and had kids. The other side of the planet! Desperate times. Others got to […]
Once upon a time,in the forgotten land of Tameside there was a strange little town called Ashton under lyne. In this town there was once a thriving outdoor market, good shops and nightlife. Thanks to the powers that be and a few numpties, all that magic has gone forever. Now it’s Mos Eisley and the […]
Read More… from Ashton under lyne, into the mouth of madness and straight out of the other end
Green green Saddleworth. Where you can escape the harsh reality from what is commonly known as Hiroshima little boy (Oldham). Saddleworthians are easily spotted in a crowd amongst their fellower Oldhamer’s. They’re the ones who have fake accents, no wit and a false sense of superiority. Yes if you like a bit of bullshit and […]
Read More… from Saddleworth is not Yorkshire and you’re not Alan Sugar
Whether you’re from top or bottom Mossley, there was always an issue of who is the most superior life form. With ***** who don’t have the complications of the inner city chavery to cloud their empty minds, their justification for territory extends to ********** characteristics such as who’s dad has six toes or who’s Uncle […]
Read More… from Mossley, home of the ‘Who’s got the most toes competition’
I was enchanted as a child by the fairground wonderland of Blackers. The promenade, the pleasure beach, the trams and the illuminations. Now even the thought of visiting this 10th rate smack-****** ********, grotty, STD happy shi@hole, makes me rather have root canal work done! I think Blackers has a tolerance limit of 4 hours, […]
Read More… from Blackpool, a bog-log bobbing adventure by the sea
