Dartford – I escaped

Living in Dartford, Kent
Living in Dartford, Kent

After dating for 3 years it was time my partner and I bought a house together. She growing up in rural paradise of Horton Kirby and myself growing up in Abbey Wood we plumped for somewhere in the middle – Dartford!

At first inspection I thought “at least Dartford can’t get any worse!” How wrong I was. Dartford is a hell hole populated by uneducated knuckle draggers.

Dartford is host to many drinking establishments that you wouldn’t house prisoners of war in for fear of breaching the Geneva convention act for inhuman treatment. Establishments such as the [one we can’t legally name] on Dartford high street. Mostly frequented by **** males that would fail a DNA test and females hoping to be injected with said questionable DNA at the nearest bus stop.

How grim is your Postcode?

But my fears where put to rest by the local authorities attempt to smarten up Dartford Central Park. An admiral effort indeed. In all seriousness the effort was excellent. A band stand, new swing park for ner’do’wells children to play at, cafe serving the finest Rosé that the ****’s consume in vast quantities and a sound system playing classical music in the tunnel linking dartford park to Brookfield lakes which invoked memories of the Clockwork Orange.

I’m happy to report that I have moved far away to a quieter part of Kent where the average IQ is considerably higher than it is in Dirtford.

In summary Dartford is an awful place due to the awful ner’do’wells that reside there, their families have lived there for generations and never moved on, so if you think you can move there as an outsider and integrate into their ways, forget it! You will he spotted a mile off for having the correct number of Chromosomes and be set upon. Leave this town to the ***** and live somewhere else. I hear Baghdad is lovely now!


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