Hatfield, Hertfordshire.

Ah Yes! Hatfield. Or ‘Sh*tfield’ as it’s affectionately known by anyone who has passed through.

I had the misfortune to have worked there for 3 years. I can honestly say it is full of the most ******** bunch of ****** **** c*nts I’ve ever come across. If ever there was a place that was in dire need of a nuclear bomb-look no further! Just visit the town centre on a Saturday afternoon and play spot the Vicky Pollard lookalike: hoop earringed, hatchet-faced scrubbers and DSS babies galore! Male ***** are equally repulsive: feral, pea-brained illiterate bellends -and that’s me being chariable to them.
Bit of friendly advice: if you’re ever on train going through Hatfied, DO FLUSH the toilet when it stops at the station.

How grim is your Postcode?