What a load of f*cking c*ck....
http://shedyourtears.com/default.aspx
Ive got a house in the village about a mile and a half up the canal from Hebden, this place is mega.
It's full of amusing looking lesbians, hoofing book shops and cool little boozers where you can lose the power of sight for less than £20.00
It is also full of f*cking bag heads. Filthy dishevilled creatures who float round the epi centre of the village scratching their hair and dragging round dogs attached to bits of blue string.
As is the norm a f*cking artsy type returns to his roots, locks up his Saab then immerses himself in the past to finally resurface clutching the sword of understanding, and a weepy classical soundtrack to accompany his film.
What he doesnt say is that the place is full of over indulged little c*nts and people who turn up there in a state anyway.
Many of the 'broken' victims of drug and alcohol abuse along that 3 mile stretch of loveliness have floated in from 3 and 4 bedroom detatched houses, who have had executives for parents and who have followed a trendy spiral of a bit of weed, few lines ect ect before ending up sharing a doss house in Todmorden with 3 or 4 other whingebags f*cked on brown and rock.
'there's nothing at all round here for me, no work or anything' said one in the paper once, not really something that holds a lot of water when Manchester, Leeds, Huddersfield and Halifax are all within 35 minutes and £5.00 on a train away.
More excuses for not working and liberally self medicating than the f*cking Jocks
http://shedyourtears.com/default.aspx
Ive got a house in the village about a mile and a half up the canal from Hebden, this place is mega.
It's full of amusing looking lesbians, hoofing book shops and cool little boozers where you can lose the power of sight for less than £20.00
It is also full of f*cking bag heads. Filthy dishevilled creatures who float round the epi centre of the village scratching their hair and dragging round dogs attached to bits of blue string.
As is the norm a f*cking artsy type returns to his roots, locks up his Saab then immerses himself in the past to finally resurface clutching the sword of understanding, and a weepy classical soundtrack to accompany his film.
What he doesnt say is that the place is full of over indulged little c*nts and people who turn up there in a state anyway.
Many of the 'broken' victims of drug and alcohol abuse along that 3 mile stretch of loveliness have floated in from 3 and 4 bedroom detatched houses, who have had executives for parents and who have followed a trendy spiral of a bit of weed, few lines ect ect before ending up sharing a doss house in Todmorden with 3 or 4 other whingebags f*cked on brown and rock.
'there's nothing at all round here for me, no work or anything' said one in the paper once, not really something that holds a lot of water when Manchester, Leeds, Huddersfield and Halifax are all within 35 minutes and £5.00 on a train away.
More excuses for not working and liberally self medicating than the f*cking Jocks
