A big Woo! Yay! to my father, Professor Scaryduck, for giving me the Book of Crap Towns as an early winter solstice present. I was dismayed, however, to find that Dorchester - the most apathetic town in the country - was missing from the top fifty, mainly because no bugger could be bothered to write in. Portland was also missing as they're not allowed pens up there. C'est la vie.
Also missing, and experienced first hand on my Cornish adventure, was the town of Penryn. A town so dire it exists only as a warning to others. The only industry since the collapse (quite literally) of the port is a large laundry, which apparantly serves nearly every hotel in the South West, and a warehouse of an Asda supermarket, which has replaced the derelict High Street as the centre of the universe.
It is a place where shell suits, Top Man jumpers and mullets vie with little old ladies for the last bargain roast dinner in the cafeteria, a sight of epic comic proportions. A place where Care in the Community comes to life, in the shape of the frightening "Adsa Greeter". A place where the only thing left in your pointless life is to await the arrival of the Grim Reaper.
Penryn. It's worse than Basingstoke.
Now, I fully expect you to stick up for your home town. If you dare.
* I have been warned - on pain of death - not to mention the circumstances surrounding my brother's broken arm. Get well soon, bruv, hope it doesn't hurt too much.
Can I say Happy Christmas now? Happy Christmas.
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