All the fun of the Goose F**king fair

Ooooh the fairs in town, everyone get all excited like twats. Every year the world famous (sic) Goose Fair rolls in to Nottingham and becomes like a small boil on the cities already pimply arsehole. You can’t park anywhere even if you live there, they towed all my neighbours’ cars away on Wednesday morning and impounded them, I couldn’t get within a mile of my own bloody house. So not only do we have to put up with the noise, the smell, the increased level of crime, the gangs of pissed up chavs and homeboys and the pikeys themselves I have had to dump my car the other side of town. So what can you expects from this wondrous opportunity that blights the lives of the local residents. Well there’s the over priced rides, I think its £10 a go this year, £10 to have your head shook nearly off by a ride that looks like it was built by redneck mechanics while they were drunk, being spun round by Trevor on the waltzes who looks like sloth from the Goonies, no teeth and a spider tattoo across his face, scream if you want to go faster well I don’t need any more incentive mate than imagining you getting all deliverance on me. Three rides and you could have gone to Alton Towers at least they’ve got proper toilets. Then there’s the stalls selling all the tradition food stuffs at outrageously un-traditional prices, if I wanted an apple covered in the equivalent to three bags of silver spoon, which I don’t, I’m certainly not going to pay £5 for the privilege. How could I forget the games, hook a duck, lob a dog and twat a cat, ok I made the last two up but you get the idea, pay the man some hard earned cash knock over the obviously weighted tins and take home a cheap copy of an Eeyore stuff toy. How do I know it’s not kosher, its fucking pink with green stripes and only has three legs, do you really think I was born yesterday?. At least it’s now on concrete, in the old days it was all pitched on grass and you fucked if it rained. Plus all the kids with want a fucking oversized balloon with rice in it that they will not stop fucking shaking until I slip with a lit cigarette. So after five days of robbing you blind the Carney folk close early and hit the town on the last day, thus filling the city centre with the kind of people you spent the last four days trying to avoid only now they are spending your money on getting royally doomed out their minds before going back to pack up the rides. The local newspaper will always put a positive spin on it as well, every year without fail there is a picture of a sickly cute child holding a candyfloss bigger than her face in front of some carousel or other with the caption ‘all the fun of the fair’, if its so much fucking fun why don’t you live next to it you lying bastards. I’m sure it’s always taken in front of a fake background anyway  I can’t see you getting out of there with a decent camera. Overpriced, disruptive and corrupt if that’s your idea of fun you’ll love it.

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