Britain, Britain, Britain . . .
A once magical place, rich in wealth and prosperous living, an envied place to live.
Hmmm what happened ahy??
How did we manage to completely embarrassed our self in-front of the rest of the world??
Saturday night out is a perfect example of where it all went wrong.
When you first walk out of the car park next to Weatherspoon's the only other company apart from ASDA to make its way into every town, village and back garden across the country, you enjoy the sight of a pissed up guy, age may vary, urinating in public all over his shoes.
Nice mate, and to think you probably will get laid tonight as well.
This is 10pm, its not looking like a great start.
Next you walk into the over crowded bar, which has the same layout wither its the St Austell branch or the Southampton branch you walk into.
"Here don't like change!"
Fight to get a drink amongst all the sad bastards who are there every week, wearing the same clothes as last time, desperately pissing their lives away. Including their hard earned cash.
No wonder no one can afford a fucking house, or they end up getting it repossessed.
I blame Jeramey Kyle, twat!!
But then it hits me, maybe its me, maybe I'm the one who needs to change???
Saturday night, I'm home by midnight, neither my mother or brother are in. Whats going on??
Is this called growing up, being an adult.
I hate my job, I hate my best friend, yet I can't help still love my best friend, my heads all over the place.
Ruuubbbbiiissshhhhh!
I think this 6 month escape has come just at the right time!
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