Caernarfon, Wales

The famed Coronation Town where Prince Charles was recognised as the heir to the throne. Also the town where ***** are the Kings.. the so-called Cofis. I was unfortunate enough to be born amongst the putrid filth of Hendre and Ysgubor Goch where one side of a very diverse culture of ***** in this town live. As the others about this town have said… they use the word “****” as both a greeting and punctuation.. they’re entire vocabulary consists of 10 words in english and 4 welsh words, that’s 4 up on normal *****!!!

The main street [ironically called Pool Street] consistently smells of urine from the chavvettes having a night out the evening before… not that they go to pubs… no Caernarfon is too cheap for that.. they emerge from Spar and a cheap booze shop we have and merrily drink in front of their tough-guy **** lads [usually 12-15 year olds] all the while pummeling the old people, which are the only people to come remotely close to equalling the number of ***** in the town, with carling cans.

Now unlike most other places in the country, there is no “safe haven” in Caernarfon, Morrisons is plagued by them, Argos is always full of ****-men buying **** jewellry to “woo” their next mother, and then nicking stuff from any shop unfortunate enough to be nearby.

How grim is your Postcode?

But the worst thing about Cofi-*****, is that they every tuesday wonder off into neighbouring villages and **** the occupants into a pulp, before returning to mug their cousins at home [everyone in Caernarfon is related in some way].

Wear black in Caernarfon – Deathwish… the only time you’d be safe from them is if you quickly pull a Burberry cap out and throw it… it will confuse their small brains enough to let you get away.

The only good thing that could happen to the place is it being nuked… luckily I have moved a good few miles away now… so feel free to sack the town.