Chorley (small insignificant sh*thole between Blackburn and Preston)

Living in Chorley

From the moment you enter this diseased hell hole you can smell the social waste of time, first stop is market walk, a ridiculous sort of shopping centre but with cheap ****** shops, like ***** favourite the Card Factory complete with squawking sprog and ecig cloud blown in your face.  Home of the shoplifting ****, he’ll most probably be ******* around in Game, a smelly ridden unit that sells  games to entertain the work shy chorlian, who has plenty of time on his hands, complete with the stolen smart phone and grubby tracksuit from Sports Direct.  To finish the look a few stains from his pound bakery pie dripped on his sleeve, on the move again his bird says she going looking in Card Shop for a baby shower card, quickly reappearing she says its f*cking expensive in there get 20 for 1 on market.

Night time is heaven to the dedicated **** spotter,they all congregate in the Prince of Wales, which has had 20 different allegedly ex con landlords since it opened.

After swigging the cheap lager, it’s tradition to threaten the bouncer on the way out. A favourite threat is (our kid is going to **** you after). The more randy **** will head for Applejax, which is without doubt the shitest nightclub anywhere in Britain (probably the world). If you’re unlucky enough to find yourself there, avoid all the tattooed birds at the bar as they’ve got a fantastic line in head butting, fighting ***** will also be in attendance, looking for it.

How grim is your Postcode?

At closing time, all the delights of Chorley congregate at the nile takeaway abusing the local asians, while impressing their latest conquest, dressed to impress in the latest fashions from temptation clothes shop. After making their way to the taxi rank its the usual snog and a quick finger then slope off into the taxi home to the Pall mall, Eaves Lane or the Coppull area.