A particularly unpleasant place to visit on a wet day during the mid-Easter hols, the day I went was sprawling with *****.
Being a resident of Crowthorne, recently polled as the ‘second happiest place to live in the UK’ and substantially ****-free, it is surprising that Camberley is only a twenty-five minute bus journey away and bears a huge contrast, and to add to that, Crowthorne is sandwiched between there and Bracknell. It was horrible.
I travel a lot on my own and entering secluded areas where these scallies hang out is a pretty nerve-wracking experience. You don’t know what possesses them to do it, but there are some ***** and ********* who will randomly shout out abuse at you. The particularly nasty bit besides the aftershock of what has just been said to you is the moment before entering the ‘danger zone’, but quite often it is preceded by that horrible, cold, brooding look or that laugh in your face. Usually one **** does it first, then he/she tells his/her mate and it sets off a chain reaction, and then you are the joke. And you haven’t done anything! You haven’t fallen over. You haven’t insulted them in anyway. You have just made a joke of yourself simply by being in their presence, and that’s the part I hate the most. You just want to make it in the world, you are happy, but someone doesn’t like it, and they have to **** it up, and you are once again, as with much of my life, back on that downward slope and, for someone in my position, it can take quite a while to things to go back to normal. And to think this happens in public.
After paying in some money at HSBC, it beared noticing that on this day, the entrance to the Main Square shopping centre had 12-15 *****/********* outside. That is a frightening number of *****. How conveniant that it was on the same street as a McDonalds AND a KFC! (I didn’t mention Burger King because even the separate side orders are too pricey for them).
Okay, I’m not particularly good looking, but these knobs like to make this clear, and yet most of them are the most unattractive people on the planet, and you spend days wondering whether what they say is right, or whether they get to rub shoulders with all the hot girls and turn them against you, and you can spend up to an entire two years finding ways to better yourself and boost your self-esteem that probably doesn’t need boosting. I am so sick and tired of doing this. It must stop.
Other **** hangouts may include outside Littlewoods or any of the entrances to Main Square or any inner-town bus stops along the A30.
