Annan, a peaceful town on the border of Scotland and England, well take the ‘peaceful’ part out. Take a stroll down the high street at 8pm you will see the local chippy, and further down a p*ss pot of a pub ‘The Shed’, where middle aged cougars and old men come to get out of it with their hard earned benefits.
If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, maybe go down to Kimmeter Square, a banged up council estate filled with drug addicts and ne’er-d-wells. Oh and a small shop called the ‘Keystore’ which everyone can’t get enough of. I tend to live in the nicer area, but if you ever hear of people wanting to go to ‘the flats’, turn around and never come back. With more heroin needles than grass blades, I will be surprised if you don’t catch anything.
If Robert Burns visited this town now a days, I’m pretty sure he would have been abused by the mass amount of 16 year old mothers who smoke fake mayfairs (‘mayfs’). If you’re ever driving through this town, roll down the windows and breathe in the fresh aroma of ‘cheese’ aka a disgusting smelling weed. Someone had been stabbed in Annan because of a ‘G’ no, not a thousand quid but a gram of weed.
If you’re up for a late night walk down the River Annan, expect to see hordes of hammered 14 year olds at the pavilion (the ‘Pav’), which will come sprinting at you with tenners in their hand demanding you to buy them Bucky (Buckfast, a cheap horrendous tonic wine which is worshipped by the local council estate kids). If you refuse, you may be subjected to abuse such as ‘shady ****’, ‘wee g*yboy’ or even, ‘I [had] your maw ya wee sh*tebag’.
So if you’re ever driving through Annan, roll up the windows (make sure they’re knife proof), tint them to hell, lock all your doors, and NEVER come back (for your own safety).