I am now ready to fill you in on more **** particulars of Bognor Regis and perhaps share in the story of “The Bognor Regis Hobbit ***** and things that go Punching in the Night”.
Having had the pleasure of going to University in Chichester it was quickly realised that it was far cheaper to live in the neighbouring town of Bognor Regis. But as we all know, where there is cheaper there is ****.
Imagine if you will a pleasant summers evening. The smell of kebab in the air, the pathways glistening with the now dried blood from the night before, on the evening breeze whispers can be heard of “ **** off Shelly I ****** him first” and other such **** clichés that can be heard in many a town centre across our fair country. Ah yes, another day in Chavadise.
Several friends and myself had made our way from the Uni campus towards the town centre. Thursday is student night at the local nightclub Sheiks and is the one time local students venture out of the high walled campus into **** central. As we are walking past one of the many pound shops a group of what I can only describe as Hobbit ***** fly out of some concealed alleyway towards us like starved hyenas towards a rotting carcass. One of these rodents then went on to sucker punch a big South African friend of mine whilst still running!!
Now, this S.African friend of mine had played youth international rugby and was not one to be messed with. The **** thinking he had landed the sucker blow of the century started to run off. The only thing was his legs were moving but his little scrawny malnourished Hobbit **** body on the other hand was not. Imagine his surprise when this Hobbit realised that a 16 stone South African had managed to catch collar of his Ralph Lauren jacket. Quicker than the **** could say “benefit payment” he found himself receiving one almighty peach of an upper cut. This resulted in the **** being knocked back about ten feet flat on his back. A wondeful moment i wish could have been shared by all.
The rest of the Hobbits came back for their fallen man and helped him to his feet. Now I know ***** aren’t particularly clever nor are they particularly nice but credit where credit is due they can run from the scene of crime like lighting.
But the best thing of all was yet to come. As these Hobbit ***** disappeared into the sunset, one of them stopped, turned back, pointed at us and shouted
“ and don’t forget, we’re the Untouchables!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Need I say more.
And there it ends. I will never forget the Untouchables and that night but one thing always bothers me particularly about *****. Why is it that every **** you see seems to be blissfully unaware that they are a ****???? Any answers would be gratefully received.
Thanks for reading!!! ******* ***** I hate them
