Accrington: The bus rider’s nightmare

I know a couple of other people have made posts about Accrington, but I thought I’d add some aspects which haven’t been mentioned.

Being stuck in the town because of work commitments, I envy people who say they used to live here but moved away, and can laughingly give a loveable account after they came back for a visit. hey, I still live here, and yes, I know it has gotten worse.

The town worsens by the day, particularly because there are a worrying amount of ******** who have been sent here because they have been “barred” from other towns. There is a charity based in accrington which helps out distressed ***** (I kid you not), and ***** from far and wide relocate to Accrington to sponge as much as they can off this charity. The charity can help out financially, as well as providing free food and clothes.

Something scary is happening with the ***** in Accrington, the gene pool seems to be getting smaller and smaller. Three weeks running, I have been going about my daily business only to be hassled for a great length of time by some **** -for-brains ****. Each one bore a remarkable similarity to the last, although it was clear that they were not blood related. They are just morphing into the same fooking person. I think, somewhere in Accy, there is a big house where ***** are being produced. Some kind of factory.

The Hyndburn Circular bus, which is a travelling **** box and takes in the delights of Rishton (Euurgh), Clayton-Le-Moors (**** city), Accrington (just ******* weird), Oswaldtwistle (land of the kiddie ****) and Blackburn (***** attracted by the “bright lights”) has to be seen to be believed. Never does a journey pass without:

  1. Older ***** sitting on the back seat and swearing at everyone who gets on the bus.
  2. ********* taking up all the seats with their prams.
  3. A rockport/bus ticket/baby **** hitting your head
  4. **** kids spraying each other with their fake perfume. After this experience, I got off the bus smelling like a ******* toilet duck factory.
  5. A **** with the most horrendous ringtone on its phone. Usually rings at a piercing volume. Usually “Barbie Girl”, or something equally distasteful. On a very busy bus, said **** answers phone very very loudly with those infamous words “I’M ON BUS LIKE WERE ARE YA?”. Then swears a lot and tries to explain to other **** on other end of phone that he is on a bus. For ten minutes. then battery dies and **** asks random stranger “YER GOT ENY CREDIT LIKE ME FONE’S FOOKED”
  6. The **** who decides that’s it’s a good idea to cough up all his lung butter on the back seat in the morning. One day son, if I ever come across you when I am feeling big and hard, I am going to make you drink my vomit until it kills you.
  7. This happens so frequently it scares me. On the Hyndburn Circular, almost EVERY DAY a big **** gets on and tries to pay half. Said **** is usually with ********, ******** uses quite a lot of swearwords when poor driver asks them both for date of birth. When both ***** give a year that implies that they are 22 and 20 respectively, the bus driver states that they have to pay full fair, ******** then states that he has “got this fing, like dis condition where he can’t remember years and stuff”… Ah, I see. Idiot syndrome.

Just writing this makes me feel nauseous about the place I live. Half of the time I walk through the town and feel as if an alien civilisation has landed, kidnapped all the normal people and replaced them with these prototype humans, people devoid of soul, thought and life.

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