I went back to my hometown a couple of years ago - Bumblefuck in the middle of Somerset, for anyone interested.
I visited my old local; a battered old boozer which hasn't been touched since 1972. It's clientelle consists entirely of rural alcoholics drinking enough to numb the pain of their inevitable suicide, and chavs doing cheap recreational drugs while enjoying throwaway racism and ignorance in an attempt to try and impress either the donor of or recepticle for DNA hideously twisted through centuries of in-breeding, that they can enjoy a life of idle, drug-adled, booze-fuelled bliss on one of the local council estates.

"A Vagabond!" cried the barman, "'Ow be an?"

"Grand" said I, "Up in London, now, working ..."

"London ... !" cried a decrepit old barfly through his beard and into his real ale, "My mate went to London once ... "
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 4 Feb 2011, 12:38, 2 replies)

I
went to a pub like this in the darkest reaches of Devon, they laughed me out of the pub for producing a £20 note at opening time and told me I would have to change it at the post office and then come back.I had the last laugh though as I cleaned their viz fruit machine out on my return, the locals were not impressed. Is your last laugh the fact that they live there and you didn't?
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Fri 4 Feb 2011, 13:14, closed)

Yes.
Yes it most certainly is.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 4 Feb 2011, 14:07, closed)

Fair dues.
(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Fri 4 Feb 2011, 15:44, closed)

I get this at work.
When I mention having been to London, I have people say "Oooh, my sister went there once!" Thing is, I live in Cardiff... :|
(Draco Rattus ate all the pies on, Fri 4 Feb 2011, 14:13, closed)