Dangling from the ragged backside of the similarly abysmal Weymouth like something a good wipe failed to dislodge, is the isle of Portland.
I saw another post on here pointing out that locals talk about the island’s beauty when what they really mean is that the views AWAY from Portland, out to sea, are beautiful. Portland itself – not so much. Scarred by years of quarrying, Portland’s natural landscape is vaguely lunar. If the moon was covered with dogsh*t and populated by single, teenage mothers and people with pumpkin sized heads and teeth like tombstones in a bombed out graveyard – it would look very much like Portland.
Never in my life have I seen so much dogsh*t. It’s everywhere – all over the pavements, up the walls, dangling in every hedge or tree in a plastic bag; the traditional ‘Portland Bauble.’ And slugs – often crawling on the dogsh*t. And seagulls. I once went into work past a seagull and a crow fighting over a sh*tty nappy in the middle of the road and came out later to see the seagull eating a sh*tty nappy and a flat crow from the middle of the road. I thought there was some profound message about Portland for me in that simple, everyday scene.
Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit
Portland people are afraid of rabbits. If you say ‘the r word’ – people know what you’re talking about. You can say ‘the r word’ – just don’t say rabbit. You can also call them bunnies, or long eared mutton. Portland people are also afraid of working, leaving the island, talking to anybody not from Portland, foreigners (anybody not from Portland) and work capability assessments. Actually, the bits about working and WCAs don’t really apply to your native Portlander, who tends to be hardworking and conservative (but afraid of rabbits, leaving the island etc) – they apply more to the massive population of ne’er-do-wells and social refuseniks imported from sink estates in inner cities to prop up the local mephedrone and spice trade and keep the food bank busy.
Top Portland news stories in the local rag over the last few months have been the **** of a schoolgirl, a child *** abuse ring, the planned building of a waste incinerator and the ram raiding of the local Co-op. The most famous person living on Portland is Gary Glitter. What more can you say?
The Isle of Portland: The jewel in Dorset’s butt cheeks
Bournemouth, quite possibly the biggest lie ever conceived.
I had the misfortune of visiting Boscombe
Poole “it’s a beautiful place”, yeah right!!!!!!
Boscombe & Southbourne in Bournemouth, my advice is stay away!
Bridport: historic **** town
Weymouth: Every day is like Sunday
Shaftesbury – it’s great if you’re old and rich
Sherborne is a quiet peaceful town, but underneath it is a festering wound