Warsop is a place where people have
only just learnt to stand up straight, we refer to these as
Warsopians. Ex pit workers, single parent families or just dossers,
you know where to find them.

The pubs make a roaring trade in
the daytime, and they would not dare shut down the post office for
fear of all the Warsopians claiming their Living Allowance, burning
the place to cinders, these simple-minded invertabrae have not yet
developed a way of expressing their frustration, so they can only
express it through violence or vandalism.

Ex-miners tend to
live in the pub on their pensions, whilst the other old Warsopians
stay in their houses in fear of even going to Somerfield, the only
supermarket in this godforsaken hole.

The very few enlightened
Warsopians will leave the s**thole as soon as it dawns on them that
there is absolutely no chance of enlightenment for the majority of
Warsopians.

The centre of local culture are the Talbot and the
Hare and Hounds, where fishwives gather to receive the daily gossip
and to grab a quick wrap of skag.

Most female Warsopians leave
Meden school unable to read with an aspiration to become knocked up
by any local skaghead whose dick has not yet fallen off, fortunately
for these disgusting uneducated foul mouthed and foul c**ted sluts,
the average Warsopian male is usually either too drunk , stoned or
just plain stupid to care who his fishwife might shag.

These
young sluts are so rough, disgusting and unkempt when they lose their
cherry, it is referred to as loosing their Sardine.

Dumpies’
the local cornershop, is the local socialising point for the young
Warsopian chavs. The Male chavs tend opt for Diamond white as this
offers the best alcohol to money ratio for their meagre state
benefits which they have worked Scrounged hard all week for, although
many do not even manage to collect it for weeks because getting out
of bed before 5pm when the post office shuts is too much of an effort
for these hard scrounging parasites. Female Warsopians will try to
appear adult and sophisticated with their taste of wine by drinking
Lambrini cherry.

The local lingo consists of the salutations
flower, petal, love, duck, babe and chick as most Warsopians lack the
mental agility to remember names and faces due to past alcohol
abuse.

The only nice part of Warsop is the Carrs,
unfortunately due to the problems of delinquent juvenile Warsopians
who have not yet taken up the local job of scrounging, the Carrs is
the centre of youth activities which include attempting to drown in 2
foot of water, shooting swans with a pellet gun and getting drunk and
leaving all the empty cans and used needles.

Some forward
thinking female Warsopians are known to walk around with a mattress
and bells attached to their back just in case they happen to meet a
family member/inbred.

They are f**king inbreds!