Welcome fellow intrepid travellers to the glorious sububurbs of Nuneaton. My name is Woody and i have dedicated the past 20 years of my life investigating and monitoring the **** culture that inhabits this small backwards town.
Well you have all read the reports already of the places that the ***** visit. Well i have recently gone deep undercover into their natural habitat (in other words im poor and had to move into a **** part of town). I welcome you my inquisitive visitors to the area known as CALDWELL!! This little known area is often mis-interpretated as being part of hill top this is untrue!
The main features of this area are the beautiful school of George Eliot! (It amazes how this town prides itself on a transsexual writer!) And the former caddy club where there are stories of murder and arson!!
I wish first of all to tell you of my first hand experiences of the ***** and i swear down on my cork string hat these are all true. I have on one side of my house one of the most feared families in nuneaton whose name i dare not mention in case they hear the keys being typed! But shockingly these are the nicest people you could live next to but we moved in with warnings of dont get on the bad of them with the story of nearly being knived in their own home! And on the other a coke head mother whose currently living with her husbands twin brother who she got caught in the ritual art of mating on the sofa! (They probably got heated up by the latest Trisha show!) This family includes 1 young daughter who i fear may be on the game already at the age of 13! And 3 delightful boys the eldset being 14 and prides himself on menacing the asian members of a neighbourhood, a young red haired football fan who says he wants to be just like Micheal Owen and proves this by kicking the footbal through a near neighbours window. And the youngest a charming young 5 year old who asked me where i’d been upon my reply of work and i hate it replied “Thats **** if you dont ******* like it why dont you just ******* quit and stay at home and go on the dole like my mam. You ****!” Of course i was amazed to hear this obscenities from what looks like a sweet young child wished i had somehow caught this on tape!
A firm memory i have of this area is walking home one night at around 8am and being attacked by a group of 8 young adults obviously in a male dominance act to show who id the toughest. They demanded my money, my phone and my house keys and to tell them where i lived! Upon my refusal one decided to swing at me luckily instinct kicked in and i managed to dodge his blow and counter act with another one of mine. A comrade of his then swung for me and i unluckily caught this one in the back of the head but swung around anc gave him a firm knock on the nose! Upon seeing his nose explode realisation of the fact i am about to die by the hands of several ***** who would instantly be furied by the site ot a fellow **** being injured at the hands of a “gof” i decided to make my exit and ran for my life! I as you can tell managed to outrun them as they were heavily weighted down by their bottles of white lightening (and no **** will disgard of that just to attack a “gof”).
This story then leads onto a place that holds great sentimental value in my heart and to the many gig goers of nuneaton. THE CADDY CLUB! This was at one pint the place to play as a lot of touring underground punk bands were playing and giving the chance for local bands to play (myself included) Those were the days when it was good fun! Until the end when you all had to walk up the street together around 100 of you to avoid being picked off by the ***** who congregated outside. Then i opened the local paper one day and discovered a man had been found dead in the mens toilets and that the police had caught the killer still on the premises calmly propped up the bar! Then the caddy went down hill and all that remains are the ashes of where it used to stand. The police had to shut it down for health and safelty reasons and the local youngsters started using it as a) a drug and alcohol hive b) a toilet and c) a place to sleep when they were to fucked to walk the 3 metres home. Alas poor caddy club we will remember you forever and shed a tear!
Alas i must go as my concentration has been disturbed by the not so distant sound of police cars and scooters going faster than the hairdrier engine they posses should allow!
Farewell travellers i will return when i have investigated further!!