Grimsby & Cleethorpes

East MidlandsLincolnshire

Grimsby is the largest town in the relative calm that is Lincolnshire. If you should ever visit, come equipped with a Burberry baseball cap and socks tucked into your shellsuit bottoms otherwise you will stand out like a sore non-C**v thumb!

I suppose everyone who’s added their town to this impressive iLiveHere list will think their inhabitants are by far the worst, but I both urge and challenge you to spend a day in Grimsby and neighbouring Cleethorpes. “What’s this?” I hear you cry, “Two towns nominated? Surely that’s not allowed”. Regrettably Cleethorpes goes with Grimsby as well as butter goes with bread.

By day the C***s play havoc within Grimsby town centre, either lurking in the shadow cast by McDonald’s doorway; swigging meths from the bottle at the old Brighowgate bus station; stripping chest-bare and jumping into the condom infested river Freshney to ‘big up’ their possy; or undertake drugs and petty crime within the shopping precinct, Freshney Place. Many are only truly understood by their three-legged, half bald, limping canine companions called Leo.

Malicious intent and behaviour come as something natural to Grimsby’s finest C***s. Grimsby has more single-parent mothers than any other town in the UK, and the UK leads Europe, so statistically Grimsby has more loose, up-for-it, sexually moral-less women than any other settlement in the soon-to-be Super State that is Europa. Just the kind of women that C***s nationwide like to prey upon and knock about after a few pints; the women, who know nothing else, see this as acceptable behaviour.

This is where Cleethorpes rears its ugly head. By day it’s becoming an ever-growing seaside resort, where the Yorkie C***s come with their possessions in bin bags to reside at the “Fitties” holiday camp. Yorkie C***s do not mix with Grimsby/Cleethorpes C***s and the bloodshed is generally within the family so-to-speak until nighfall, when the pubs and clubs open, luring the Burberry cap-wearing local C***s “up Meggies” (the slang name for Cleethorpes) to share a 5 litre bottle of p*ss (sorry, I mean cheap cider) and go on the rampage at 1.45am attacking, slapping, spitting at whoever comes between them and their chance to show off in front of a CCTV camera.

Nowhere but Grimsby/Cleethorpes are there C***s that go out intent on injuring specific people – bus drivers, train conductors, door men – none are safe. I was once on a bus in Sheffield where the native C***s there took a random pop at the bus with a brick; no one was specifically targeted, just the bus, owned by some anti-gay Scottish millionaire. Not so in Grimsby! Ah yes, Grimsby, the home of the fastest running train conductors.


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