The Idler

Great Yarmouth

Looking for somewhere to go on holiday this summer? Well, if you’re the type of holidaymaker who likes to drink, beat, rape, and piss in the street then Great Yarmouth is the place for you.

In fact, if you’re even considering Yarmouth as a holiday destination, you probably fit the description above. Each summer the town is plagued by foul-mouthed reprobates who won a week in a pissy caravan park from a competition in The Sun. The streets are awash with obese, drunken imbeciles, their screaming kids, regurgitated candyfloss, and dogshit.
Which makes a pleasant change from the scag-addled locals, who roam the streets in desolate winter looking for a quiet place out of the driving wind, to shoot up / rape / abuse their children.

In winter there’s something beautiful about Yarmouth, in a post-apocalyptic kind of way; sand blows across the promenade like nuclear dust, while mewling miscreants drool in the gutter or prowl the backstreets like packs of rabid dogs.
It’s hate-crime heaven.

People who remain in Yarmouth after leaving school fit into two distinct categories: heroin addicts and alcoholics. The height of a Yarmouth boy’s ambition is to own a Vauxhall Nova with a spoiler on the back. The height of a Yarmouth girl’s ambition is to have as many children as possible. Whilst chain smoking. And shooting up.

Did I mention incest?

Don’t even go there on a dare.

C White