The Idler magazine has embarked on efforts most noble in finding the crappest town in the British Isles, and the results are a romp. I’ve always found the self-deprecating nature of most English (and Welsh and Scottish and Irish of course; geez these national sensitivities are tiresome) humour immensely endearing (this is especially so after smiling politely at American exchange students who don’t understand irony) and the contributors to this feature have it in spades. Here are some randomly chosen gems, but rest assured that any town you click on will be hilariously torn down.
On Portsmouth – “When you are able for one moment to get the stench of deep fried reconstituted chicken guts from the far too numerous fast food eateries from your nostrils, and quite probably the taste of your own blood and smashed teeth from your mouth, you are greeted by the rancid odour of the thousands of gallons of effluent that is pumped mercilessly into the sea on a daily basis.”
On Bath – “In the summer it fills to the brim with loud American and European tourists who clog the narrow streets like the coagulated grease in a Scotsman’s arteries. In the winter the only escape is incest and the insistent call of the bong.”
On Stockport – “The overiding ‘look’ for Stockport’s locals is a shaven head with optional Fila cap / visor perched on top, a Reebok shell suit the legs of which are tucked into a pair of overpowering patterned socks and a pair of Rockport, Timberland or Kicker boots. Gold jewellry is popular, usually incorporating sovereigns and / or Marijuana leaf motifs. The male uniform is fairly similar.”