I lived in Stoke-On-Trent for three years, and worked there for over 10, and there’s one irrefutable truth about the place that has remained unchanged for all that time – the place is a complete sh*thole, and the people really are as thick as pig sh*t.
It’s not that their accents make them sound braindead – they actually are. The only time you will find a working brain cell in the whole of Stoke-On-Trent is if somebody from outside drives through or visits. They have no idea how to drive, how to speak in a civil tone and their dialect is at once irritating and incomprehensible. They use phrases like ‘geen downtown’ to mean they’re going into the city centre, and when they’re not stuffing their faces with oatcakes and Wrights pies, they’re mutilating the English language further with words like ‘enneeettttttt?’ instead of ‘isn’t it?’.
It’s like somebody kidnapped every single village idiot in the world, gave them a sh*te accent and dropped them in Stoke. I’m amazed a single member of the population remembers where they live every day.
As for the city, well, it’s every man for himself on the roads. Nobody drives with any care and attention (see lack of intelligence above) and the city centre is a s******e. Most of the smaller businesses have closed down now and it’s corporate central. Mind you, the big Tesco on Clough Street attracts your typical incomprehensible Stoke scallies with names like Mark (pronounced Mork – yes, really!) and Mortin.
Travel through here, but don’t stop. Don’t trip over the knuckle grooves that have been eroded into the city’s pavements since time immemorial – the residents still walk around dragging their knuckles and glaring at people who smile at them.
A sh*t hole.