A picturesque town on the north Somerset coast, in the middle of lots of picturesque villages and beaches. Not many shops but if you are brave, Taunton is only 22 miles down the road. Lovely setting, tranquil beaches,…sounds great, right?
Wrong. The masses from Birmingham, Liverpool and Cardiff seem to wish to make it their life’s work to come to our quiet little town and wreak ****** havoc. Any time the sun comes up – even if it is only 3’C with an onshore wind which would freeze a brass monkeys ******** off – you will see copious amounts of grockel flesh wobbling about as thighs slap and stomachs spill over the top of yoga pants and cargo shorts. Why on earth anyone would want to expose as much of their pasty, stubbly flesh and insult the eyes of us poor locals I don’t know, but it is a sight which cannot be unseen. Sadly this insult to he ocular is repeated often, with hairy **** cracks and fluff-laden belly buttons exposed to the elements for all to see.
Grockels can be found wandering up and down the length of the town, towards Butlins and beyond towards Tescos and McDonalds. They are easily spotted – even if the expanse of flesh on show doesn’t give them away the screeching and raucous laughter gives them away.
Grockels come to Somerset to get drunk, get **** tattoos, paddle their hairy toes in our seas and complain about tractors and the smell of cows.
Ilfracombe: gluten intolerant middle class nightmare
Wiveliscombe: sh*te rolled down hill and collected in one glorious cesspit
“I hate life and Watchet” – said a poignant piece of graffiti
Chard, the houses remind me of Cambridge… if it had been bombed
Glastonbury: it’s hard to find anyone who isn’t blowing shamanic smoke up their own ****
Yeovil, neatly situated in the **** end of nowhere
Frome: Trapped in Vegan Hell
Bath – Just Because It’s Posh, Doesn’t Mean It’s Pleasant
Bristol: A battle between hipster and yokel