One time mill town, now premier league s******e of demolition and dereliction with few functioning adult males still above ground. (Most of em f**k off for better pastures in their 20’s as soon as they have finished breast-feeding off their mums..)
What was not burnt down in the riots seems to be being pulled down by the council and re-grassed, to allow easier terrain for the world famous Burnley Wood retards to take their 15 spazzy mongrels per home for a s***e without having to face the walk to townely park stolen car racing track and dog toilet.
Difficult to spot the true c**v as most cannot even afford the price of a burberry cap if they pooled resources..
Not enough people with anything decent to steal off it seems..
Burnley is more the place for the apprentice c**v whose dad is in prison and whose mum and grandma are on good benefits to afford the gear while he is at school.. Maybe also the shagged-out old retired c**v (aged 33) as he comes back to mum and her new punter(s) to find his final rotting place beneath the litter and dog s**t..
Famed as having the most stupid council in the country, trying to implement a recycling scheme that requires an IQ of over 10 in Burnley just aint gonna work.. now everyone just throws their rubbish on the street when the wheely bins are all full and set on fire..
Following the trail of animal and human excrement on the way to Burnley Centre, (often hidden by mountains of takeaway wrappers hiding syringes and a lovely chewing gum covered pavement..) it is easy to spot the budding infant c***s hanging round in gangs as their mothers sit open legged and smoking tabs on their doorsteps and some dodgy bloke swings pitbulls round his head attached by the teeth to tree branches..
One of the features of the burnley c**v seems to be taking the sofa onto the street and relaxing with company and a few beers..
Saturday night is always a good laugh if you like trying a pub crawl round the chlamydia capital of the UK and risking meeting your mates at the clinic the following week as you all try and get an impossible appointment to sort out the dick rot..
Start at the bars that all congregate round the area of the post office and try to avoid pulling the excess of fat dumb birds who spend most of thier time trying to flash thier credentials at the police officers who pretend to be trying to maintain law and order while looking up girls skirts..
Not that it is particularly difficult to avoid as there are literally hundreds of fit young women trying to attract the attentions of the few males over 18 still in the town..
All activity seems to finally be focused on the Lava ignite club at the end of the evening, where you can pay an extortionate amount of money to queue 5 deep for an hour at the few bars in the club to drink alcopops.
Then, another hour loitering outside provides a last chance opportunity for skinny c***s to engage in fisticuffs with each other while Mr Plod eyes up the tarts falling over and is glad of an excuse to not be doing what we really pay our cops to do.. stop the thieving s**m bags from robbing our homes, not pretending to be hard in their riot gear while chatting up the tarts..
Alternatively, for the more mature, check out the Austrailia bar and pick up an old minger who has not had sex for weeks and whose ex’s are all probably in the same bar and recognisable in the gents as the guys who scream in agony as they urinate what feels like broken glass..
Aye, reckon the special clinic has been run down in an attempt to make all the local women infertile with untreated STD’s..
If you must have sex in Burnley, bring your own stock with you!
Not really a classic c**v town, because even c***s have standards.. I have tried breeding with a few of the chavettes, but as soon as they get enough kids to get the benefits to bugger off to a town where the council actually bothers to clean up after em, off they f**k..
I hear they once opened a lap dancing club, but it soon closed, after all, you cant sell for a tenner what most Burnley girls do better for free..
And, if you do pull a Burnley girl, the first thing they will say is ” I am not a typical Burnley girl”.. The first thing they say, but of course not until the morning after when you actually need to try and make an escape..
Don’t say you were not warned!