I’ve never really understood football mesen. Where’s the fun in kicking a sack of air arahnd for ninety minutes and throwing yourself to the ground every time someone comes within ten feet of yer? Aqua aerobics is more my cuppa tea; I’ve been practicing for weeks and finally perfected my underwater side shuffle the other day, despite me lickle legs.
Any road, when football fever hit Hoodtown, the eediats came out in full force. Everyone gorra bit excited when England put a few goals in the net, and some resorted to stomping on bus stops. One unsuspecting taxi driver got his car smashed up by some hooligans right in the middle of town, while the rest of the drunken dimwits surrounded the bogger poppin’ champers. It’s not all bad though; someone started a crowdfunder to support the poor guy, and the perpetrators eventually got the handcuff treatment. It din’t even come home in the end, so all that bother was for nowt.
HIDE AND PEEP
I thought we’d seen the last of treasure hunts after LeftLion buried some booty dahn Stonebridge City Farm last month, but now robin statues have popped up all over the city as part of a scheme by the council. I heard that if you find all thirty of ‘em, summat beltin’ will happen. Bob knows what, though.
The weather’s been ruddy marvellous these last few weeks. Who cares if the city’s goths have melted in a puddle and the grass is nuff dry? We deserve it. It’s great stuff, but I am starting to get a bit wam under the owd cap. It’s mekkin’ me dead mardy.
CROSS TO BEAR
There was some disgruntled honking from me when I heard the Malt Cross had shut shop. Let’s hope that the staff find themsens a new job soon. That place was bob-on, especially when the LeftLion lot used to whack events on there back in the day. Market Bar’s just gone an’all. We best get some decent watering holes opening up soon.