Too many burgers. Too many kebabs. Too little money. The stereotypes of northerners are well known. Particularly for those of us who regard any trip north of the Watford gap as a foreign adventure and venturing past Spaghetti Junction as akin to an intercontinental flight – as Mrs Thatcher once put it so aptly, you just cannot get home in time for dinner.
So it’s a real pleasure to have spent some time this past week with, amongst others, an up-and-coming local councilor / prospective parliamentarian from Burnley. Apparently “fat lad” is not an insult up there and is often used in a way to express endearment. It’s been somewhat refreshing to meet someone who comes from a community where civic pride is valued and where people do not sacrifice their humanity in a constant rat race for material luxuries.
I’m getting a little fed up with vacuous southern ponces. I think I need to spend more time in the north.
yes yes….come join us up in the north….rochdaleeeee
Dear Mustafa,
Get-your-tits-out, get-your-tits-out, get yoouuurrr tits out for the lads on tour!
The above does not even begin to express the sense amour I felt for you over the past two weeks. Your unkempt beard, your high-slung trousers that regularly brushed up against your nipples and alas, before I forget, the manner in which you let forth a spew of bile aimed at fatties,northerners and those of a “Mongolese” disposition. My experience with you is life changing.
Call me Nige.
Lol! Not sure what I’ve said about northerners (other than their relative socia-economic situations). I stand by my comments on a “fat tax”. As for the “high” trousers, that’s probably a reflection of your own vertically challenged nature.