The “Bargoedian” **** is like no other. Not only does he continue to chew ‘tar-tainted’ gum whilst smoking endless L&Bs, he also has an uncanny ability to seek out and possess vicious looking dogs with extreme bowel problems.
This particular breed of **** will spend his days getting thoroughly “pissed” in Bargoed park with his mates (this delightful social get-together usually “kicks off” around mid-day when ***** awake from slumber desiring cider.) The exception to the rule is market day – whereby droves of them (having saved a few quid from their dole-cheque) spill into the town centre to ‘haggle’ over fake gold chains (and generally scare old ladies!) On non-market days however, the decent folk of Bargoed are free to wander at will around the piles of dog-**** that adorn their streets.They are not subject to offensive sexual remarks (that normally concern their immediate family), and neither do they have to contend with unnecessary “z”s (that make understanding the intended offensive remark very difficult!)

Duz youz knowz wot I meanz?

How the good people of Bargoed are lucky to have a ****-******** park to keep such creatures in one place…until early evening!!!
The favourite “after-dark” haunt of the ******** is a bench conveniently located outside the “Spar” shop in the centre of town. Here, she will perch her track-suited **** on the back of the bench and place her feet on the seat. This is a very clever move considering her limited intelligence: (1) Her trainers are now clearly visible to any passing **** that may happen to stroll by – a kind of primitive ‘mating call’ (2) She is now further away from the fore-mentioned dog-**** that may tarnish her “pride and joy” (3)From her elevated position she is able to spot any brave/stupid non-**** from a distance – thus giving her tiny brain time to think of a good sware word to shout by the time they draw level.
**** meanwhile (being “drunk as can be”!) can take his pick from the many “**** happy” locations on offer in Bargoed town: Will he choose to loiter at the train station and wave the “V” sign at passing trains? Will he elect to “hang out” at the bus stop where he may attempt to melt any “plastic bits” with his ***? Will he venture into one of the available car parks and indulge in a game of “Who can throw the rock/bottle/passer-by’s limb the furthest”? OR Will he take a wander down one of the town’s many back lanes and check out the ‘revving ability’ of his mate’s chavmobile?

How grim is your Postcode?


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