Woking rides again!!!

Woking! Christ in ****** napkins it’s the fetid drippings of the devils ****!
Never has the human gene pool needed sieving so much as the chavtacular pond life that make up this rancid boil of a town which swirls round in it’s own cesspool of Sodom and Gomorrah on the outskirts of the M25.
Once more my friend’s lets us ride into the breach of Woking town, watch your wallets and look down at the floor. No eye contacts as you’re in **** country now!
Marvel at the pedestrianised walkway that runs the length of the town centre. Here you can see the ***** in there perfect environment, taking a turn up and down the walkway looking for inadvertent theft opportunity’s that are the breeds staple diet to support their giros and there constant addiction to sucking from the bleeding teat of government handouts.
Other attractions are the **** hang out of the Big Apple. Not sure exactly what this is, self styled youth attraction or in my view, Septic rancid hook up joint for soon to be pregnant 14 year olds ********* and there 21 year old leisure suit wearing hooded topped ***** boyfriends, who walk like monkeys who have **** themselves. Either that or they have haemorrhoids as I really can’t see another reason for walking like their John Wayne and yes, he had piles, big time.
Just around the corner you will find Chertsey road. I have mentioned this road in a previous rant, but not the fact that it’s a one way street and perfect for the motorist **** to burn some rubber on in there souped up, or is that ****** up, Citroen Saxos. Christ knows why they go for these cars, lets face it, their French! But know doubt in their shadowy world by adding a big boy exhaust and a ‘fat Willys surf shack’ sticker makes it the dog’s ********! Instant ******** pre-pubescent pulling power with added unlimited back seat mimsy touching potential!!!!!!!
I would like to end my current rant by paying homage to another of Woking’s great establishments, Chameleons nightclub. If by the word ‘homage’ you think ‘piss take’, your right. Sitting like a soiled leper on Chertsey road it’s the mermaids call to all ***** after an evenings drinking in Witherspoons, and like ships pulled onto the rocks their drawn like moths to a flame. In this case the moths of course being **** *****/***** looking for a fight and a kicking in the back or a black Mariah by the local constabulary, and the flame being chameleons, which is essentially a big room with flashing lights and curious smells.
But lets face it, to the **** who’s just drunk 8 pints of wife beater and has had a couple of pills, its ******* heaven. Where all the angels are soft as **** and have just spilt their pint, or have looked at them in a funny way.
Anyway, must go, I’m off to Witherspoons to get ****** on Stella………..think I’ll go to chameleons after that, wheres me tracksuit? ****, my secrets out!!!!!!

How grim is your Postcode?