Glossop – I escaped this place as soon as possible

Living in Glossop, Derbyshire

After having been raised here since birth to a rare pair of parents that weren’t related to each other in any way, I escaped Glossop as soon as possible and haven’t been back in 20 years. I hear it’s been hit by gentrification now, but in all seriousness it really needed hitting by a particularly large meteorite.

The locals are [allegedly but not really]******* who let their offspring who are also their nephews / nieces run feral, and since there is nothing to do for the obnoxious creatures that should have been aborted, they go around viciously attacking anyone who isn’t related to them, and generally destroying property.

There’s not much in terms of diversity for your palate either. The parochial nature of the place spills out into every aspect of it, including dull, tasteless food. When a colleague told me she’d bought a house there after moving up from daaahhn saaarf, I asked her if she was mad – she told me “It’s not that bad anymore, they have a deli now!”, as if having a deli transforms an absolute arsepit of a town into somewhere that isn’t the physical embodiment of depression. I can assure you, it could have 20 delis, and it would still be the worst place in the whole of the UK outside of Farnworth.

How grim is your Postcode?