Kingswinford

Kingswinford, a quiet little village in the West Midlands. A jolly working mans place with nice local people, nice local parks and oh yeah a park pool ******** with empty two litre bottles of white lightning cider. The ducks and swans witch once inhabited the splendour that was K’ford Park are no more! ****** of by a tide of hooded morons with their cheap and nasty cider and alco-pops and even cheaper girlfriends and (If possible) even cheaper jewellery. With hoop earrings bigger that the basket ball nets that once stood tall they plague! Worse that **** they litter the streets with their fool language. Children now enjoy games where they try to spot a car witch isn’t a Nova or Corsa with pointless spoilers and long music with no rhythm or melody. It’s become worse as cider sales have increased in village’s most popular pub the British Oak but as too have bar room brawls random beatings and teenager pregnancies. Local experts claim the recent increase is from other near-by hives such as Seadley and Gornal. This quiet little town is getting louder and it’s not a noise many of us want to hear; The Game and 50 Pence playing with so much base you can’t hear what they are on about. So please spare a thought for us simple folk when you next see a **** pleasuring his orange girlfriend whiles downing a bottle of cider in a bus stop!

How grim is your Postcode?