Glossop The *********** Just Keeps Spreading

DerbyshireEast Midlands

You would think you’d be safe from the inbreeds making it as far into the hills as Glossop but just like warts they can pop up anywhere and then there ain’t no stopping the sheep.

Yes we now have a Gregg’s, an Argos and a Shoe Supermarket that draws the ‘bling bling crews’ from their ‘a penny down and a penny a month Littlewoods catalogue furnished hovels’ into the bustling streets of Glossop on a Saturday morning. Some of them haven’t even gone home from the previous night where twenty of them will sit around a one pound mini fillet keeping a watch out for the ‘five-0’ (police) in case they get ‘busted up good’.

They are, as always, fully resplendent in their tacky nylon made-in-China tracksuits (it looks like the start of the London marathon outside the market). Many will tuck their silly little nylon jogging bottoms into their equally tacky nylon Nike socks (to keep the fleas away from their ankles at home?) making them look like a cross between Tin Tin and Linford Christie.

A group of six of them means that ‘their crew is 3 times as ‘ard as any crew which comes along only sporting 2 members’. Should one become detached from ‘the posse’ then they frantically search for reinforcements from anyone ‘sporting the bling’ who is a familiar face.

You can barely walk ten feet without hearing silly little words screamed in a falsetto voice such as ‘innit’ and ‘phatt’. Naturally the word ‘man’ has to be stuck onto the end of each sentence to emulate their black gangsta idols (bless them)’.

The females ( a description I use lightly) usually sport a laughingly tight pair of trousers that makes their Gregg’s cheese pasty fuelled paunch spill out nauseatingly over their waist band so that we can just catch a glimpse of a ten quid star or dolphin tattoo and a nasty cheap belly chain. The males will try to puff themselves up to their full height, arms sticking out at the side, hoods pulled down low to look menacing (lmao!) and a swagger that would shame Mike Tyson.

Be careful that you don’t look at them ‘cause they is well ‘ard’ (lmao again) and don’t take kindly at being ogled by normal folk. Should any rockers, Goths or emos (you know lads and lasses with a bit of individuality) walk by they will be met with a chorus of high pitched pseudo gangsta talk and insults by the flock of track suited sheep.

When God shared out resources he gave the Arabs oil, the Africans a beautiful country, the Germans an industrial nature and the UK ***** man made fibres and 10% off at Argos.

I don’t know what they see when they look in the mirror but it sure as hell isn’t what the rest of the world see. How difficult can it be to look the part? Twenty quid down the local market will kit you out  ( a tacky tracky, plastic trainers and some imitation ‘bling’.)

I love scrubbers like this because they make me look so good in comparison.


Top 10 worst places to live in England 2020