Ah Thanet, the once regal town of Ramsgate where Queen Elizabeth I had her holiday home, the beaches where the affluent classes would remedy their inner city woes by indulging in the clean and fresh sea air with said healing properties that no doctor could challenge. One need look no further than the majestic architecture that is so generously portioned amongst the cliff tops, with added delights as the bandstands and parades which were so fondly used for Sunday afternoon walks with the family.
Ah Thanet, inbreeding capitol of Southern England. Thanet has managed to attract the lions share of the country’s unemployed, care in the community patients, mainline drug abusers and one would need look no further to find the *********** of *****, be they in training, wannabes or fully fledged. You would be advised to avoid being in public during the afternoon and twilight hours as this seems to the natural congregating hours for them. The Thanet **** is indeed lucky that they have no fewer than 3 towns within commutable distance (commutable by means of bunking trains for the under 12’s, joyriding for the 12-16’s and fitting an illegally obscene amount of people into a Corsa for the over 17’s) and a plethora of venues in which to hang out and abuse the innocent by passer. Indeed with more markets than you can shake a stolen imitation Burberry cap at, one would assume that the Thanet **** would be a little more tailored in their attire – unfortunately you would be mistaken as the common **** merely assumes that tailored clothes mean that they’ve bothered to nick their gleaming white classics in their size.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the baseball caps serve a third use (other than being used as a form of recognition amongst peers or adumbration when ‘shopping’ – and I use that term very loosely) and that is to restrict cranial expansion. After all the only form of abstinence known to the **** under culture is that of the education system, as proven on a daily basis with the hoards of children in the town centres pushing buggies and prams of their own. Their grasp of the English language, or spectacular lack thereof, can be most readily witnessed in the summer months when thousands of foreign students spend 6 weeks wondering why their parents have sent them to live in a hovel in a dive town with nothing to do. It becomes a free for all between the ***** and the students, and is enough to brighten up anyones day being spectator to such scenes of hilarity.
In Margate the ***** again have a multitude of desired territories that they feel the need to protect in hoards. They also display a migratory pattern with Cecil Square being the alpha choice during winter months and with such delights as defacing the readily available public transport or terrorising any locals who might wish to visit the library they are spoilt for choice in the endless list of pointless activities that their lives evolve around. However it actually a sense of solidarity that dictates that they wait around Cecil Square for their fallen comrades to leave the court minus their provisional driving licenses before consoling them with a stolen bottle of breezer or can of stella, depending on gender.
In the summer months the ***** migratory instincts can be witnessed as they convene around the clock tower. A perfect location for them as the beach, arcades, primark, a kebab shop and a corner store selling the obligatory 10 mayfairs and sovereigns can all be found within spitting distance (and yes this has been tried and tested). This covers all their basic needs without actually having to over exert themselves. After all their strength will be needed to sustain them through the evening and into the early hours of the morning when the ***** mating rituals begin in full view of the public.
A discerning **** might well break away from the pack to allow his 14 year old biatch/girlfriend some degree of privacy (which means only 4 of his mates can be witness at any one time) as she gets on with her duty behind the desk shed. But on the whole this is not needed as in order for her to rise up the ranks of the **** hierarchy she needs to show leadership qualities to the younger members of the crew, and seeing as they lack the fundamental skills of linguistic communications it comes down to a show and tell session. The following Q&A session is not allowed in front of their male counterparts and is reserved solely for when travelling on buses and trains. If travel is not available then it must be done as loudly as possible when walking in heavily populated public areas.
I can think of no better proof, if indeed any is needed, that a bigger gene pool is preferable in order for us to avoid the consequences that our future generations will have to endure if this phenomenon continues.
Yes indeed, Thanet is rife with *****. And in their glorious absence of sophistication I can only solute them – the one fingered solute of course, the only befitting gesture of which their stature requires.