Bangor, Gwynedd

Bangor ***** are easy to find, all you have to do is look in the general direction of the town clock and there they are! As nature intended. Gathered like a gang of pre-historic monkey staring at the clock still trying to work out what this weird object is for! They also like to hang around the bus shelters, the only place where they can pretend they got somewhere to be. They vandalise the windows with such funny remarks as “i am hard”, such witty creatures.

Very well we all know that they are twats with absolutley no fasion sense and the brains the size of their ability to talk in sentences, but what are we going to do about them! I have a plan! We poison their cheap bacardi breezer knock offs with eostrogen, make sure the males have absolutley no sperm left to repopulate the **** world! Plus they will have **** and it will be quite funny! secondly we have to play “REAL” music to warp their feeble minds, get Jimi hendrix playing 24/7 until their ears bleed and their brains slowly trickle out of their ears! It has to work, omg i have gone crazy! ah well…

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Bangor, Gwynedd

This is the chaviest of the chaviest! The only place left in Britain where people are still wearing shell-suits from the first time they were popular.
The average age of first-time mothers is probably 15, I know one lad whose 22 and has 9 kids with different mothers. Check out: the ruins of the Wellfield Centre, where ***** run about like wild dogs. The only Poundstretcher in the world where kids nickl stuff from cos they’re too tight. Hang about the Bible Gardens long enough and you’ll get them drinking their weak Bacardi Breezer rip offs in their hoodies in all weather. One of the most sad backwater hopeless holes left with anybody living there.
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