I've just spent a fortnight in that cockney infested, shandy drinking pit of depravity.... and despite its nasty habit of pulling its kex down and taking a dump all over my childhood and everything i hold dear i did love it. I was on the piss every night, i had something resembling a job to go to, i met a load of new people, i saw some crazy shit, ate in semi-swanky restaurants (£15 for a steak is fucking highbrow alright)... there was always something to do.... and ive just spent my first 2 days back in Hartlepool sitting on a beanbag in my pants watching UK Gold and eating pastys.
Its fucked up my life something awful because bafore all this shite i was happy blowing a few days of life on a thundercats marathon and a couple of bottles of jack daniels but now i want to go out and do exciting things... i want to punch a fucking grizzly bear in the face... i want to call gordon brown a cycloptic skirt wearing bagpipe blowing cunt and then use a dulux colour chart to gague how angry he is bu the colour of his bloated stroke victim shaped meathead..... oh and i want to knock fuck out of morrissey with a leg of lamb but thats always been an ambition of mine so it dosent really count.
oh and i was sharing a room with 5 french girls for a couple of nights too... that was a highlight.
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