Newquay, home sweet hell hole

CornwallSouth West

It may come as a surprise to some people, but I can write, operate a computer and I’m from Newquay. I’m kind of used to hearing people whine and bitch about how Newquay’s gone down hill, and that’s just from the rest of Cornwall. Let alone disappointed tourists.

So imagine my delight of returning home to Newquay after spending six months backpacking, to find that it was full of c***s. Literally, they were seaping out of the gutters, ally-ways, bus shelters. All with cans of Skol and Stella (I’ll twat ya!). Beautiful. You see before I left, the town had it’s fair share of rude boys, kevs and Trisha rejects. And within six months the c**v population of the UK upped and moved to the (not very) sunny shores of Newquay.

However, this is not a problem that happened over night. The stag/hen weekend crowds have been coming for years. Likewise the “insert generic name” crew on tour “insert year here”, have also been around for a few years. They just seem to be becoming less civilised and more chavilised. I should know, I used to be a busker in town. It used to earn me a bit of cash. Now the town’s entire economy revolves around the sale of Lambert & Butler, Stella Artois, Lambrini, Bacardi Breezers and other sugary alcoholic drinks, Marijuana, Ecstasy, Cocaine, Heroin, iron on t-shirts, faulty condoms, Burberry, Fred Perry (you know the rest), boyed-up Vauxhall Novas, Astras Chavaliers, Escorts (XR-3i) and Fiestas (XR-2i)…. I’ve had to get a proper job (well, still in the sevice industry). And as the locals complain, the tourists complain and everyone is complaining, I can look forward to a busy summer serving up Big Macs.

    Directions for c**v spotting in Newquay

    Open your eyes


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