Wilmslow? Pretty place. Can't say I ever noticed the footballsie types, but then I'd struggle to spot them if they were right up in m'face doing a wee dance. My hometown's not too far away. It's a bloody sty. Courtesy of my parents' hard work and general yuppiness I had the good fortune to live on the verge of the only decent road in the place. Went back about a month ago. The local's shut. The cricket field's been set aside for housing. Drains were broke and overflowing. Some pleb had done their business in the street. Was it always like that? And what happened to the row-upon-row of pale birches and towering horse-chestnuts? Did they always have "Generic Chav Woz Ere" carved into their trunks and bog roll cast into their branches? Woe.![]()
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