Bradford, the land of dreams, if you dream of takeaways & pound shops

Living in Bradford, West Yorkshire
Living in Bradford, West Yorkshire

Well where should I start with this one. Bradford, the land of opportunity, if its a takeaway or a pound shop you dream of opening. Oh yes there’s plenty of them and drugs and prostitution too. Well actually its an every day thing in some parts of this ********. Speeding supercars flying past every corner, hired by the local drug dealers who you’ll surely see in the next edition of the Daily Telegraph. I mean drugs a so rampant in this piece of **** place that they make Pablo Escobar look small time. Forget Black Friday, want the best deals come to Bradford, buy 1 get 1 free chicken and chips from Rajas rat ******** chippie, a stolen PS4 from some Slovakian at Foster Square or some cheap deodorants from the local junkie desperate for his next fix.

Or you could take a walk through one of the wonderful Bradford Council Estates, I personally recommend Holmewood, this place is so run down and such a **** hole, even people in ghettos will think they’re living in luxury. But only enter at your own risk or take an army with you or maybe the RSPCA, to catch all the donkeys running around.

Yes I’m not joking around, it’s like a Zoo is this place, I mean in your town people drive around in VWs or Vauxhalls, not around here pal, it strictly donkeys. Or you could take a stroll onto Leeds Road, but buckle up because its going to be a bumpy ride, I mean it like playing GTA when driving up there, how some of them guys got their drivers license I’ll never know. Pakistan, Poland wink wink. Then you got takeaways on literally the whole street, it’s like the Asian Vegas Strip.

How grim is your Postcode?

If you really want your adrenaline pumping then I recommend “the Bronx”, yes the Bronx, it’s basically a ******** up Leeds Road, why it called “Bronx”, I’ll never know. Just take one of your Asian mates and say you know one of the local dealers, you should be okay. Swiftly moving onto the heart of all the action, the Bradford Interchange. Just stand there for about half an hour and you’ll know what I mean. This place is such a ******** the local bin men should start using it as a tipping point.

Just take a good look at the buses, they belong in a museum and the toilets have been pulled out of a horror movie with **** stains ******* everywhere, and then there’s the locals, mostly *****, with their AirMax trainers, TN Caps and Fred Perry Jackets. If fashion was a person he’d be dead by now, the way some of these nobs dress. These ***** are such low lifes, they hang around the Interchange till late at night causing trouble, listening to baseline of their D500. I could go on for ever about this hole but I got fares waiting at BRI…….

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