Amusing write-ups of what these people say are crap towns.
http//idler.co.uk/crap/?page_id=264
Of my birth place (Peterborough) it says-
Pros attractive cathedral, nice boat pub.
Cons indigenous population of devil-worshipping Nazis
There are some who will only ever know Peterborough as a convenient train-link to London or the north. Others will only have driven through, glancing at the Toblerone-shaped Pizza Hut building on the outskirts. Those so inclined may even have visited it during ‘Truckfest’ rallies held annually at the East of England Show-ground. These people are the lucky ones. As well as being perhaps the most culturally stagnant city of its size in the UK - the local Key Theatre rarely deviating from farces starring an array of stars from ‘Emmerdale’ or ‘Corrie’ while the local multiplex will routinely jettison quality releases in favour of an extra screen for ‘American Pie 2’ – Peterborough is dominated by a populace with the political instincts of a lynch mob.
Though ostensibly a New Labour marginal since 1997, few cities are in fact more reactionary. The local Council Tory leader, effectively an East Anglian Jean Marie Le Pen with an IQ in single figures was recently elected ‘Personality of the Year’ by readers of the local ‘Daily Mail’-like rag, whilst pop figures Andy Bell (who grew up in the city) and Paul Heaton have publicly lambasted the city for its bigotry.
Redeeming features? There are some. ‘Charters’ the marine pub, is a fine one, never really needing the ‘Pub of the Year 1994’ banner which it sported for nigh on seven years. The 10th Century Cathedral is also indeed very nice, but even this was recently victim to the city’s escalating crime rate and is recovering from fire-damage. The yobs of today’s city are more pernicious even than Cromwell’s 17th century hordes.
Seems pretty accurate to me.
Stockport
Amenities The actor who plays Frasier Crane’s dad in the American sit-com Frasier once owned a house here.
Stockport is a small town in South Manchester. Much of Engels’ research for Marx’s Communist Manifesto was based on the apalling working conditions in the town’s hat mills. And to be honest it’s gone down hill ever since.
The overiding ‘look’ for Stockport’s locals is a shaven head with optional Fila cap / visor perched on top, a Reebok shell suit the legs of which are tucked into a pair of overpowering patterned socks and a pair of Rockport, Timberland or Kicker boots. Gold jewellry is popular, usually incorporating sovereigns and / or Marijuana leaf motifs. The male uniform is fairly similar.
Anyone deviating from this universally accepted look faces daily verbal and physical abuse.
Entertainment includes avoiding being glassed in one of the town’s many pubs, avoiding being stabbed on the infamous “192″ bus and avoiding leaving your house as much
as possible.
Merseyway precinct is the town’s heart. If you do wish to buy anything from Woolworths, Argos or “Everything
For £1″, avoid walking within stone’s throw of the 2nd floor balcony edge or you face a shower of gob, McDonald’s fries and of course stones from the gangs of youths above.
Recent attempts to open an Amsterdam-style cannbis cafe were thwarted by local police.
For more information for tourists wishing to visit Stockport please log onto
http://www.stockport.gov.uk.
Charlie Hungerford
A KIND LETTER
I was only made aware of your magazine, by reading an article in the local Stockport paper, which expresses it’s outrage at your comments on the town, and decided to look you up on the net. I, myself, am Stockport born and bred, and can assure you that your comments were absoloutely spot on. It’s shite. Well Done.
Our local MP, Ann Coffey, alleges that she doesn’t know the town from your description, and thinks you must mean Southport ! She has obviously never glanced at someone, accidentally, in Luckies on a Friday night and then got filled in, in the car park afterwards.
I’ll be writing to the “Letters To The Editor” part of the paper, this week, (anonnymously) commending your article. I’ll let you know how I go on.
Regards.
Anon
Bracknell
Amenities
58 trees
70 Underpasses
No hospitals
I worked for ten terrible months in Bracknell. This ‘bustling’ new town seems to have been designed to inflict the maximum cruelty on visitors and residents. A combination of violent drunken locals, the horrendous new town road system and a disgusting shopping centre combine to make this an essential place to visit and then leave again as the first available opportunity.
This website says more than I ever could, officially condemned by the town council. The Alternative Guide To Bracknell.
James Robin
BRACKNELL DEFENDED!
‘Ralph El Turk’ writes
This man has no poetry in his soul. Bracknell has perhaps some of the best roundabouts in the country; once upon a time had a pub called “Frisco Jacks”; and the platform attendent at the railway station once played an Ewok in Return Of The Jedi.
Hanging out in Clerkenwell, sipping fruit cocktails, and chatting about Rimbaud is nothing compared to flying around Bracknell’s roundabout system in Mum’s Citroyen AX 1.3. The constant threat of being roughed up by a local for looking vaguely middle class only adds to the excitment of the place.
Plus, as home to the meterological office, the large number of weathermen and women, famous hell raisers, only adds to Bracknell’s sparkle.
Moreover, it has some excellent video shops, a very large KFC, and a battalion of Kebab vans. Any idler worth his salt would relish the opportunity to embrace the place and its denizens.
(So true.....)
Skegness
Picture, if you will, the wonders of Lumley Road and the fattest of families pushing multiple prams while displaying excessive mounds of flash fried flesh restrained in attractive string vests and Kappa jogging bottoms. The irony of such attire is wasted on the wearer who can bearly crawl off the trash saved sofa to collect his/her/its bi-monthly dole cheque.
More beautiful still is the Sea Front, liberally littered with run down 1960’s fairground attractions/death traps, arcade amusements and the amputated stump of a pier which first burnt down and was subsequently washed away in the mid 20th Century. The Council has wisely failed to rebuild such an attraction in the interests of common decency and to avoid accusations of crimes against taste.
/yeah, sounds about right.
An anagram of Bacup is Bollocks. Well, if you came from Bacup, you’d fall for that.
The vast majority of the inhabitants can barely spell dole on their benefit form.
The only reason that Kappa haven’t built a factory here to supply the townies is that it would provide jobs… and they wouldn’t want that.
Oh no,…the dole is just fine thank you. And if all else fails, become a drug dealer. And if that doesn’t work, you can always stand about and do nothing. Which is the favourite past time of “bored” youngsters here.
Rain is an integral part of every day modern Bacup living. You would have thought the locals would have realised that when they vandalise something in (stolen) marker pen, that they don’t have to go back the next day and write some more - the rain doesn’t wash stuff off on the INSIDE of the bus stop.
The most interesting feature in this cesspool of the Pennines is a sign saying “you are now leaving Bacup”. Or at least it would be if it hadn’t been stolen.
Against all of the above, Bacup does have a very efficient dumping ground. The River Irwell. Lovely shade of orange. “Its been tangoed”.
Michael Ashford
MAGGOTS
I think the person who wrote the review of Bacup is obviously someone who used to live there and has now moved on . This has led him/her to flights of fancy about the state of the town. He/she paints a picture of doom and gloom and fails to note several places of note in Bacup.
1. The local Tesco where, you may take money from the cash machines only to have it stolen from you by the gangs of unwashed, “boarder dudes” who loiter around this mecca of enetrtainment.
2. The ‘loverly’ local pubs where you may sit on broken stools at cracked tables, no doubt broken in Saturday nights only entertainment, “I’m gonna have a fight with me mate”
3. And, the ‘piece de la resistance’ of Bacup, the maggot farm a few miles out of town towards Todmorden whose sultry aroma can be smelt throughout Bacup on days when the wind blows from the East.
Lee Neville
Too true about the river and the rain, the rest is unfortunately true too. Arggggh, thank the noodle I got out as a wee scunner.
lol lol
It hasn't got my hometown. Only London. You can't lump all of London into one group.
Mr Bungle, you are forgetting some of the other jewels in Peterborough's crown.
Queensgate shopping centre - houses top names like BHS and C&A.
The mighty Posh - Not had a good season since beating Stockport in the 2nd division playoffs.
Its a great hub to reach towns like Grantham and Kings Lynn.
Thorney Golf Course - The flatest golf course ever created.
Playing "lets drive under the Bridge of Death" - cross your fingers as you go under this pedestrian walkway that links the city to Englands largest permanent gypsy site. People were killed by young scallywags enjoying themselves by hurling bricks into cars on the dual carriage way below.
Showcase Cinema - and hoping your car's still there when you get out (see above).
I also once lived near Bracknell; that was shit.
Mr Bungle, you are forgetting some of the other jewels in Peterborough's crown.
Its a great hub to reach towns like Grantham and Kings Lynn.
Grantham was the other side of the county. Everyone knows that Lincolnshire is filled with cannibal zombie werewolf pirate ghosts who will suck the brains out of your head if you're out after dark. Unless you're drunk in which case you're safe.
I also once lived near Bracknell; that was .
I once met a scouser at a pub quiz on the Oregon Coast and when he asked where I used to live and I said Bracknell, he rolled his eyes and shouted for the whole pub "Bracknell? That place is a shyte-hole!"
Never a truer word.....
The vast majority of the inhabitants can barely spell dole on their benefit form.
I honestly wept with laughter when I read that.
I havent read Cockney Wanker in ages :mrgreen:
remember Ravey Davey Gravey? :lol:
I never see a review of Worcester at all, (which come as a suprise) but Redditch got a great review wink
I just read a review of Newquay, and I love the place dearly but I read in a different review that described it politely that 'Newquay has an identity problem'
I think this review puts Newquay's identity problem in its proper perspective................... wink
Newquay
Once upon a time Newquay was a sleepy fishing village that had some of the best surf spots in the country. That was then now you will find it promoted by ‘The Sun’ as the Ibiza in the UK.
Go mid summer or any bank holiday and you will find a town over run by illiterate morons who are trashed on a concoction of Scrumpy cider and as may illegal substances as their body will hold, slurring obscenities at any member of the opposite sex that crossed their path.
If you can find a space on the beach it is likely to be littered with used condoms and empty McDonalds burger boxes and god forbid you try surfing these legendary waters, again you will be assailed with sewage and joined by thousands of people who cram themselves into the sea only leaving space for a small five year old.
Night time will bring out the lager outs, prostitutes, drug dealers and night club vampires who swarm on the streets on mass and pile into these extortionately priced dens of iniquity they deem to call night clubs.
Newquay was once a place of relaxation, now it’s just a place of desperation where brides and grooms to be gather for their last night of freedom and debauchery.
It says something when the local people leave during the summer.
James
My home town isn't there but the nearest other town is...the write up for Aldershot is spot on....total hole.
