Nothing prepares you for the neverending misery of this godforesaken shitpit. Old men in slum pubs with their arms(heavily covered in homemade tattoos, and scabs of all shades of purple)round their pre-pubescent girlfriends dirty anaemic, pox-ridden, excuse for life-form.
Every(part boarded- up) shop is a throwback to the seventies.The “Working(I kid you not )Men’s Club”, sells Long Life beer(Surely Some Joke),to “barely breathing rubbish in clothes “.
No house is complete without the obligatory piss stained mattress in the front garden , and the brick sustained car outside.The Tilbury 4×4 is an old converted Ice Cream Van.

I went to see a “client” in his home for a valuation . His estimate was that his Hillbilly shack was worth 200000 (I nearly said “Rupees yes sir ,UK Sterling no”) . I actually told him that if I excuded at least two zeros from his figure we might be in business.
As I left , I took one last glance at him , he meanwhile was looking lustily at the crumpled creature in the corner who I thought was his pet mongrel, but was actually his daughter .
I left with mixed feelings ,sad that Iever had to go there ,happy Iwas on my way home.

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