Folkestone is (or rather was) a quaint little town by the english channel. As if it wasn’t bad enough having to live with the faint smell of France wafting across the channel, it has now become the home of a rare breed of c**v, the middle class c**v.
The further north you travel, the less concentrated this genii of c**v become but they are just as dangerous. The only main difference is that they have nicer cars and they’re girlfriends are called things like candice and chardonnay (like off footballers wives innit).
Being a small town its almost impossible to get beaten up by a gang (or a “strut”) of c***s and not see them ever again. but for them its like monetary agriculture, they farm cash off the weak and the passive all the while telling the world that they’re ‘gay’ because they don’t like tracksuit bottoms with elasticated bicycle clip ankles. in short, don’t come here, we’ve got some good local bands like Kingskin and battle ska gallactica but they tour so wait for them to come to you. i hope i’ve helped you cross off folkestone from your holiday list and maybe saved a few wallets in the process.