Tales from the Septic Isle

As a frequent traveller to the four corners of this once Green and Pleasant Land, I can only empathise and wholeheartedly concur with the views of your many contributors at the amoebic growth of these pestilential, night crawling, ********* caricatures. As I mostly travel for work it brings me not only in touch with these ghetto zombies but also the victims of their callous, slack jawed, drug induced violence. In my own experience, my car has been vandalised several times (once outside a Doctors Surgery in Morpeth where, not content with tooling open the doors they proceded to attack the radio with a blunt instrument in a hopeless, pea-brained attempt to extract a face-off stereo with the face already removed! As the car alarm went off the Doctor and I stood, mouths agape at the window while these Kappa clad ******* pretended to be invisible by hiding behind a chain link fence! As a parting shot, they lobbed a cobble at the front door of the Surgery splintering the glass. The Doctor remarked that half of them would be back the next day for their dose of Diazepan……..anyway I digress) While recently in Liverpool a work colleague recounted a story that may offer hope to all those opressed by the curse of ****. In his local neighbourhood the after dark streets are ruled by these supporating sores on the **** of mankind. They roam the streets in gangs of up to 30, abusing and terrifying anyone, who they deem in their poisonous little world to be “normal”.. One of the highlights of their evening after a skinful of Alldays Special Offer Cider is to pepper vehicles with stones, bottles and used cans, causing as much damage as they possibly can then daring the owners to come out and get a “good *******, kicking”. One night in particular the victim car was a Beamer which they joyously stoned, bottled and finally danced on in some sort of Neanderthal victory celebration. The owner was not at that time unfortunately available to come out and get a good ******’ kickin’ but later it transpired that he was a Heavy gentleman visiting Liverpool from the land of the kneecapping and the punishment beating. A few phone calls later he was joined by several like minded Heavy gentlemen who set out upon an erstwhile enquiry into the identities of the malefactors. A brief stop at the local Alldays to interview the junior Chavlings elucidated through the usual means of bribery and fear the name of the local Hostelry where their elders might be found enjoying their evening tipple of Tizer and Methadone. The gentlemen in question descended on the boozer and proceeded to redecorate the fixtures and fittings an exciting shade of claret **** emulsion. Apparently the police refused to attend the incident and the fleet of ambulances who arrived to take the injured to A&E were prevented from getting to the scene by cheering residents who shouted “let the ******** die!”…….Now while I don’t condone violence of any kind, it’s heartening to know that at least someone can speak to these **** in a language they understand, even though it is with an Ulster accent! Regards to all, keep the faith.

How grim is your Postcode?