|The real meaning of Christmas|
Council houses throughout the borough are bejewelled in cheap flashing lights that would make even a gypo retch in an epileptic frenzy. At the local Poundland, 6 foot high plastic Santa’s adorn the dog shit bestrewn aisles. The local pawn/porn shops are agape with stolen gifts and televisions with screens wider than Tipton High Street. The Yuletide cheer continues unabated as merry folk wander in and out of each other's houses stealing each other's stolen property.
Street urchins abound/confound on every street corner, fighting and vomiting uncontrollably, relinquishing stomach contents awash with kebabs and cheap liquor. The sound of family discord echoes from every hovel and stray dogs urinate on the legs of itinerant passers-by whilst baying at the moon in harmonious unison and frank despair......... HOWL.
|Roast leg of venison will make a nice change from turkey Arse|
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