I truly thought that travelling across the world from Canada would be an eye-opening experience. Arriving in Stanny/**** Mecca only reinforced that idea. It was like walking through the streets of sunny Fallujah on a summers day. Smells like no other – my son nearly gagged on a daily basis walking to the little **** school! We got a first-hand education in all things ****. I’ve never seen so much ****** plaid/burberry in my life! My son, having received a fairly decent education for 3 yrs, regressed back to infancy in behaviour after attending the local “school”. After being bullied for his non-**** accent and physically assaulted on a daily basis, he turned into an even more aggressive version of Martin from EastEnders. My mother was horrified when we returned home to Canada 11 months later. He sounded awful with his mock-Cockney accent. It was not “well good”. Here in Canada we have ***** as well. Although not as refined as the ones I witnessed firsthand over in the UK. We were absolutely blown away by the burnt out shells of Novas scattered along the motorways. Little ten yr old kiddies smoking ganja at mignight along King Street and Nursery Road. I tried to claim 2 weeks of jobseeker benefits when I first arrived, only to be told by a Jamaican lady that I wasn’t really a British citizen! I’m pretty sure I was born there though – says so on my British birth certificate. Needless to say, after deciding to leave the UK and return to Canada we both nearly kissed the ground in the Calgary airport, thankful to be back on Canadian soil. God help us if the virus known as “****” jumps the Atlantic! Perhaps we will have to move to an isolated corner of the world just to avoid it. The entire UK is circling the drain. My sympathies to all non-*****! 🙂

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