When you think of Bournemouth, you think of a nice, happy place with nice views and sandy beaches, with nice weather. I’ll admit, having come from Dagenham, and with family all across East London and Essex, nothing could beat those sh*tholes, but alas, an unlikely contender reared its ugly head, and typically, it happened to be the one bloody place on planet earth that I had moved to. Bollocks.
I’m lucky enough to live in Southbourne, one of the few good areas of Bournemouth, which contains quite possibly the only estate of council houses in the world where there isn’t 12 year old slags bragging about how many 21 year old men they’ve slept with, or mothers with six kids that all smoke and look like they’ve all done some sort of Class A drug at some point in their young lives.
Now that I’ve mentioned one of the few good things about this hellhole, it’s time for the bad. First of all, the weather is s**t. Seriously, if you expect to come down from anywhere inland, expecting a pleasant, sunny day at the beach, then you’re a fool. Plus, on the odd occasion that you do come across the beach on a good day, expect the beach to be full of foreign students and whiny kids who start screaming and crying when you don’t get them an ice cream. There’s also the chance that your beach hut will be broken into and burgled, even if the only thing left is a bunch of mouldy biscuits which went out of date five years ago. Gotta love it.
Secondly, the people are s**t. The younger kids all go out together to the park in their Nike AirMax which looks like it was handed down to them from their older sister who probably already has four kids, so they can film their shitty diss tracks and call themselves musicians. If they aren’t there, they’re normally asking homeless people to buy them alcohol, mouthing off to people who actually have some decency, and hanging around street corners and McDonalds, chatting s**t to anyone who isn’t part of their group.
The older lads are basically like this as well, except their behaviour is even more c*ntish, even more devious, and have probably just about got the maturity to tell jokes about banging someone’s mother, but instead banging someone’s sister. These people are not to be feared though, as they are wannabe roadmen, all talk, nothing to back it up. If you see one, do not be alarmed.
The parents aren’t much better ever, and will deliberately ignore anyone who tries to point out any flaws about their children, even if this statement is about as obvious as water being wet, the sky being blue and Donald Trump being a Sacha Baron Cohen character which was a “joke gone a little too far”. They also have a tendency to believe that the Polish people are stealing their jobs, despite the fact that an immigrant is not stealing your jobs if you have 2 GCSE’s and an STI.
Some areas, such as Southbourne (My area) are okay, but you have some places where you wish that Bournemouth would be hit by a giant f*****g asteroid and sent back to a time when c***s didn’t exist, 10 year olds sold lollipops and not LSD, and when you could actually walk down an alley in Boscombe without having to worry about drug dealers, getting stabbed or encountering Gazza completely off his head, saying that he’s a friend of Raoul Moat again.
Until that day comes, I will wait for the time when a wannabe roadman actually stops talking s**t and gets in a fight with someone, however I doubt that day will ever happen, so here I am, stuck in the biggest lie since sliced bread.