Not strictly a town, but a small city of **** heaven.
The bus station is likely your first stop on your tour, and any time, day or night you will find fine specimins of **** for your viewing displeasure.
Typical genus include –
“1 Punch tale ****” – The **** who invariably leans against the wall of the bus station (Or on the shutters of that amusement bar that never seems to be open), and who tells a tale to all that are willing to listen (Or are unfortunate enough to be within earshot. Of his “Marra wot sparked owt this daffty **** last nite man” Who is apparantly “totally mental”
“Mumbling ****” – Usually traveling in packs, the mumbling **** would probably be funny if it were an animal or something like that. They talk to each other extremely fast, in a sort of mumbled tone. No one has yet been able to decipher their language or even alphabet since most are quite illiterate.
Any contact with a swarm of mumbling ***** can get quite dangerous, on the grounds that you wont have a f*****g clue what they’re saying when their overall message is “am gunna nok ya ***** heed in lad!”
Parental ***** & The ********* – Always pushing a pram, older parental ***** travel in rough family units, consisting of father and mother ****, and an assortment of *********, always different fathers, usually different skin colours, and with typical **** names.
Parental ***** of this type almost ALWAYS are seen in this area carrying huge boxes with Argos or something similar on. (Due to the close proximity of the city’s Argos store) You will always wonder just what the hell is in these packages, but will never know.
Younger variants of parental **** groupings consists of single teenage mum **** (ages 11-16), manly grandmother ****, and of course, the obligatory illegitimate ********.
Leaving the bus station you will find yourself on Durhams “North Road”, which would technically count as the city’s main street. Every other shop has been converted into a “Trendy **** club”, names include “Bar 19”, “Studio”, and “DH1”. Most of the remaining space is taken by Wetherspoons, Yates’s, and other pubs.
The former cinema, which entertained all, has now been converted into the **** haven that is “Walkabout”
The infamous poundshop is ever present, in fact at one point there were 2 poundshops side by side, in a double whammy of **** culture. “Poundshop Plus!” Just what the world needs.
From north road 3 avenues suggest themselves.
Upwards, to the train station, to get out of this god awful place.
South west – To the Milburngate shopping centre. Nuff said.
South east – To cross the river and head to the other side of the city.
Now you might be thinking that a city built on both sides of the river might have segregated areas, and that by crossing over you are entering a more **** free area. No such luck.
First shop once you cross the bridge – Pizza Hut.
And then Etam.
And then you look around….Orange, Vodafone, “The Carphone Warehouse”, You have stumbled into the **** technological research centre. For the only piece of electronics ***** are programmed from birth to understand. Their mobile phones. At least 10 mobile phone stores exist in Durham, and around 6-7 of them are right here, in around a 200ft radius.
You run up silver street, hoping for a reprieve, something, anything that doesn’t remind you of ****.
You come to the market place courtyard.
Historic statue – good start
Only 1 or 2 pubs – Getting warmer.
Close to Millennium plaza, containing a library, and a theatre. – Oh baby!
But whats this….some sort of terrible experiment gone wrong?
A short teenage boy approaches from the west, hair down to his shoulders, korn hoodie, jeans with straps on.
They look at you as if you are some sort of space alien and continue on their way.
Don’t make eye contact, for these are the ****-goths.
Many theorised that ***** and goths were in fact different species, and that cross breeding was not possible. Durham proves them wrong.
The market place is home to this particular mutant, usually populating in the area of 150 at any given time on an average weekend day, their appearance leans towards the goth.
But unlike true goths, who are far too busy in their melodramatic self pity and nihilism to bother with anyone. These goths display the aggressive tendencies, and ignorance that their **** bloodline has breed into them.
They tend to sit around on the steps around the statue, eating their cheesy chips and coke.
Crossing the market place in the daytime, is somewhat akin to Alfred Hitchcocks movie “The birds”. Walking slowly, avoiding eye contact, making no sudden movements.
The general tendency is the ****-goths breed with their own, however they are commonly known to breed with full ***** as well. Typically it is female ****-goths that date the full *****, probably due to their higher levels of **** they are seen as more desirable.
“Real” goths are rare in Durham, and are only really seen in the bus station, or occasionally in student accommodation. So it is possible this new half-breed has come about as a **** scheme to breed goths out.
The other base of operations for these freaks is “The bandstand”
which is exactly what it sounds like, a small bandstand near the river, on the university side of the city. Where even larger numbers of these twats congregate. True ***** and ****-goths maintain posturing stand-offs, with small scuffles every now and again.
So, Durham not only contains one of the highest ****:Human ratio’s, but it has also given birth to an entirely new, and particularly grotty variant.
Enjoy your stay in our historic city ¬_¬.