Sadly this is a true reflection of a town that has rapidly degenerated to the point of shame. I too have ventured down Stockport on a Saturday night, and let me tell you this…Heaven and Hell is a club you go to once, and only once. A truly memorable experience, if only to laugh at the underage slappers and spotty scally lads who all look identical with their shaved heads, stripy jumpers and Rockports (is this so the police can’t distinguish between them?)
And don’t forget the delightful gold clowns that swing round the chav girl’s necks on Argos’s cheapest gold chains – don’t stand too close, they are a deadly weapon in disguise. One toss of their greasy scraped back pony tail and that clown will have your eye out. And there’s no point claiming, because Stockport Magistrates is NOT a place you want to be associated with. Never have I seen so many inappropriately-dressed miscreants congregate en famille…would a suit from TKMaxx cost so much, or even just a top that didn’t reveal the majority of their Loret de Mar tan?? Surely all those benefits should be put towards something other than a 2litre bottle of White Lightning, 3 Big Macs and a pack of 20 Sovereign?
I have to admit I feel ashamed to have to write Stockport on my address, despite being from one of its much, much nicer suburbs (yes they do exist).
OK, in it’s defence…actually, I can’t think of anything. Avoid it.