What did I do wrong?
During my 9 year career in IT I have worked in the following places;
Hounslow
Preston
Bracknell
Birmingham
Wolverhampton
Salford Quays - Manchester*

I now work in Crewe.

I have no doubt I will go to hell when I die, but I am already there in life

*Opposite Old Trafford football ground- it was all I could see from my 'luxury' office window. I hate football. I hate Man Utd.
(audreyforbes audreyforbes, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 17:07, 3 replies)

Morden
Apparently the Northern Line was meant to go further South, but when it got to Morden they just couldn't be arsed to build it any more.

Having lived there I can sympathise.
(Axeman Jim, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 17:03, 5 replies)

Seriously?
No-one's mentioned Wolverhampton? Or is that too obvious?

Everything you've heard about it is most likely true. What really gets my goat is the way the council are presenting it as a shiney 21st century city. I don't know who they're presenting it to as that, but for crying out loud...you can't polish shit. The town is rubbish, the nightlife is rubbish, and the sub-human scum is rubbish. And backwards. Like most people, I like having a little natter with complete strangers but if you try it here, you will be given a withering look that either makes you feel 5 years old, or may actually kill you. Pot luck.

But then, it does have its little kooks to keep it interesting. Like the Cowboy Man, who would talk to any young teenage girl about 'those tennis girls and their skirts'. Actually, he stopped being the Cowbow Man a few years ago. Now he's Jesus Man. There was Fred the Tramp who lived on the Ring Road but died a couple of years ago. I miss him. There's Eastern Elvis, who gets a little bit pissed off when you run at him when drunk and yell 'Eastern Elvis!!! I want a photo with you!!' He has a scary scowl. And there's a crazy lady that rides the buses, and either has multiple personalites (I counted 4) or schizphrenia or a mixture of the both. It's actually kinda upsetting to hear what she argues with herself about. There was another Jesus guy who would preach all morning in town, then go home and clean the park at the top of my street. Bless.

Still, it's free entertainment, can't knock it.
(Beacon, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 17:00, 4 replies)

This just happened about 10 mins from my house
news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/8332416.stm

Just shows the state of England in general
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:56, 2 replies)

Liverpool - 'City of Culture'.
Yeah right - and Chernobyl is the 'City of Health and Safety'.
(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:52, 15 replies)

Frankfurt
I'm fully aware of the shortcomings of my own home town, although I'm immensely proud of it too. But Frankfurt, FFS what a monstrosity. I spent an evening there a few months ago. I thought I'd pass the evening in a bar, idly chatting to the locals as I have done on many occasions the world over.
BOY was I wrong!
After trudging in the drizzle from the station some of the first things I encountered were; people shooting up between parked cars, some of their friends spark out in doorways under sleeping bags and every second building was either a brothel or a peepshow. Classy! I eventually ended up in a little corner bar where I got into a 'discussion' with a lairy local guy because I was English, and therefore responsible for the eyesore that was Frankfurt, all that bombing y'know. I explained that by his own logic HE was responsible for the perceived shiteness of MY home town.
"How can that be?, I've been to London and it's a great place" he argued.
"Ah, but you see I'm not from London, and the Luftwaffe made my home town what it is today" I replied.
"Where are you from?" He asked in quite a belligerent tone.

"Coventry".

Belligerent to sheepish in three syllables

My home town outshited Frankfurt AND bitchslapped Johnny Foreigner all in one evening.
No wonder I'm proud.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:51, 7 replies)

Boston
there was a rumour that the whole county had been used as a testing ground for various things back in WWII. I would put money on it being true- nobody gets that weird naturally.

We moved there for 3 or 4 years when I was 11. This was the second most obese place in the country, the place that started the riots when Portugal beat England- burning down the local Portugese pub, burning a police car etc. Because we were from down south we were automatically posh, and there was a campaign of abuse against my dad and other teachers- one unfortunate sod and his family were almost turned in their car on the street. Chav doesn't describe this place. Being beaten up because you wear a grammar school uniform takes the biscuit.

You'd see old men waddle by with their stomach dangling between their legs, chav mothers in short skirts and no knickers flashing people. It was like a hell-hole, the eight circle of hell, where everyone despaired. Six fingers, webbed toes, no foreheads, I saw them all- and those were just my school-mates.

Looking back at it, it was bizarre. The labourers who smoked weed all day as they chopped cabbage, and the man who didn't notice he'd lopped his fingers off because he was so high on whatever he was taking. The sort of place where old ladies would hawk up massive gobbets of phlegm at your feet and tell you to get out of the way.

Sorry any b3tans from Boston but it is genuinely the worst place in the world
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:49, 4 replies)

Cambridge
Actually it's quite nice but took me nearly 90 minutes to get out of the bastard place due to the stupid signs on the ring road.
The signs were basically "Ooop North" & "That Lundun" which was shite as I was going to Norfolk.
I'd stopped at three petrol stations & they sent me in the Ooop North direction. Being a Northerner they probably thought that's what I wanted as they couldn't understand me.
Bastards.
( ERG1008 is climbing in yo windows & snatchin yo people up, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:48, 1 reply)

Droitwich
Yes, it's another crap satellite town (half an hour to south Birmingham) where nothing of note happens except for countless petty incidents born of the small mindedness, bigotry and sheer stupidity of the inhabitants. Like a thousand that will get talked about this week, I'm sure.

But it's my town, and for the moment I cannot escape, and as such for the me it is the innermost circle of hell.

All but one of my schoolmates have left, mostly for London, other big cities or abroad. I was brought up to be academic, and my friends were good at school, had artistic leanings and got the hell out of Droitwich at the earliest opportunity. I've stayed behind (mainly because I'm a bit of a useless twat, which I wont go into further), and am slowly going insane here.

There is nothing to do. Except go to the pub. Most evenings I get out of the house and walk around. And end up at the pub. Usually one of the pubs in the centre of town. The clientele are near-identical in every single one. The youngsters are a combination of drug dealers, single parents, scrappers, slappers, illiterates, fifth-generation benefit-cases and racists; the older folk either read the Mail or the Sun and are are all racist. There is a strong pro-BNP sentiment in the area that is used as a measure of your worth in any conversation about politics with almost anyone. Young and old wear ratty tracksuits and baseball caps, perhaps combined with tacky nu-rave gear from topshop for the young or maybe whatever Liam Gallagher would have worn in '96 for the old. The very old wear a look of absolute defeat - people who have given in to living here. I fear one day I may sport that that look myself.

Over the last two years it's been rarer and rarer to see my old friends. For want of anything better to do I've taken to hanging around the pubs on my own, hoping to make friends. I don't make friends. In fact I've become a laughing stock. The youngsters have names for me and always have to compare me to someone silly, a TV chef because of my longish hair, or even f-ing Jon McCririck because last winter I wore a hat with earflaps and had sideburns. Cars drive past and kids lean out shouting "Wally". I don't know where "Wally" came from, and I'm not sure I want to know. So I hang around the older people. However once it has been established I hate the BNP, and that I live in one of the most affluent areas of the town, I become my other character - the wooly middle-class liberal patrronising good honest "working class" folk. "Working class" despite that few of them work full-time, or even at all.

Looking at facebook groups my acquaintances frequent, none of them can spell or use grammar in much capacity at all. None of them.

I don't like this place. This is the depths of the West Midlands, of "chav Britain", the gap in the world's soul. To me, Droitwich beats all your shitty home towns for outright shitness.
(raymond "three griddle pans" luxury yacht lovin' the christmas action, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:46, 9 replies)

Makes me go ARGH
Ok fair enough there are probably loads of 'Rubbish towns', but what really makes my blood boil to the point of needing to see a toddler fall over on gravel just to calm down, is when people spend their lives whingeing to whoever will listen about how their town sucks mahoosive dick.

It's usually taxi drivers who are the worst offenders, but most people are guilty of it at some point and i can't say i'm exempt.

Ok, i used to live in Basingstoke and i didn't really care for it much, but you know what? I moved somewhere i liked! If you don't like it just shut up and bugger off for shit sake.
(cheerymaddox 'Quite cute when not talking', Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:44, 2 replies)

Aldershot.bas
10 PRINT "Chavs!"
20 PRINT "Squaddies!"
30 PRINT "Violence!"
40 PRINT "Despair!"
50 GOTO 10
(Axeman Jim, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:44, 2 replies)

It isn't all Disney. . .thank god.
Having just spent the weekend in downtown Orlando, Florida, I can say it is crap. The Disneyification happens in another part of the city, so when office hours are over almost all of downtown seems to close -- until a few places re-open at night for people to get drunk and act stupid. To say it was dull would be a compliment; if we hadn't been there for a reason (friends' wedding, which was grand), I would never have wasted time or money there. I recommend avoiding it.
(louveciennes , Volvospotter, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:41, Reply)

Hatfield.
It seems my life has been lived in shite towns.

I think I'm destined to venture from one to the next, desperate to move on, but compelled to remain hopelessly trapped for too long in too awful a place.

To begin with, let's have a look at Hatfield.

I've since lived in Peckham, Lewisham, Deptford & a few other equally stabby corners of South East London. I've worked in Hounslow for well over seven years; a town that seems overrun by youths with a sharp, pointy look in their eye and the ever present threat of "Gunny" hiding about their person; yet no town has left me feeling less safe than Hatfield.

In pursuit of the then love of my life, blended almost too perfectly with the heady promise of a Music degree, I packed up my room in Spalding (a truly unique town that I'll come onto later) and set fair for the promise of Hatfield Poly, or "The Univershity of Hertfordshite" as it is so easily misspelled. My first days were spent living in a glorious stoned haze, my sweetheart crushed alongside me in an over-soft single bed as we smoked & humped our way through lazy afternoons while the summer slid carelessly into a warm and colourful autumn.

Its one of those places where the very mention causes anyone who knows of it to draw air through their teeth and shake their head like a builder who's about to shaft you. At first I didn't get why... maybe my brain was clouded by a fog of smoke and wrapped in a sexy haze, but it seemed idyllic to my mind and I couldn't have been happier.

Until, that is, the first time I was awoken by a stolen car. Some towns have a reputation for car thievery that stretches way beyond its boundaries; Hatfield truly deserved such acclaim, and I was to discover this on an almost nightly basis once the clocks had rolled back and the nights long drawn in. The first instance came with an horrific bang that shook me from my stoned slumber in the shivery hours of the morning. Outside my window was a road that seemed popular with the local Car Liberation Front and the halls opposite me were a regular dumping ground for their unwanted booty. The occupants of this particular motor had neglected to use the roundabout in a conventional "round-a-bout" fashion, instead opting for a daredevil leap over it. By the time I'd got myself downstairs to investigate (including a short wait to see if anyone else would get there first), only the driver was still hanging around. A short exchange left us in the knowledge that he was "fucking alright, ok?", that we could "cunt off if we intend to call the rozzers." (yes really, rozzers) and that we were a bunch of "cunty student twats, fucking stupid, cunting fuc... [here follows a long, unhinged bout of incomprehensible ranting and raving accompanied by a fair selection of drool and a far away look].". He swiftly staggered away talking about the "fucking hospital", none of us had the inclination to point him in the opposite direction, that of the actual hospital.

I soon grew accustomed to these instances and the screeching twin tones of a police siren swiftly began to produce a Pavlovian effect that would see me leap to the window in the knowledge that I'd be treated to yet another wildly entertaining display of ridiculously poor driving (I wasn't the most diligent of students, by any means). I'm sure it'd remain true to this day, but the years spent in the South East of London gave that familiar two tone tune a very different meaning...
( Moey, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:39, Reply)

Shit pun...
I thought about moving to Ponders End for a while but soon stopped.
(Haywood Manley, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:32, 1 reply)

Just to restore some Karma
and to point out to those smug holier-than-thou types who say that "everywhere is shit" etc that it's not true:

Nice towns in the UK that I have visited:

* Tonbridge
* Warwick
* Stirling
* Ironbridge
* Dorking
* Exeter

These places (as far as I can tell) are not crap. In fact they are well worth a visit. And they put places like King's Lynn ("aaaar yow laucle?") Basingstoke and Aldershot into pretty sharp relief.
(Axeman Jim, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:31, 8 replies)

Mercury
Its fucking hot (can get as hot as 427 °C), and its also bloody freezing (can get as cold as −183 °C). It doesn't have any moons. Also theres almost no atmosphere, so even if you were somewhere with a mild temperature, you'd instantly asphyxiate. Its rubbish.
( Lumpbucket tekcubpmuL, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:27, 1 reply)

On my own doorstep - Cromer
'Jewel of the North Norfolk Coast' they'd have you believe, and yes, the beach can be nice. However, it really is a dark and dingy place in the town. Crime is rife, there's nothing there to appeal much to the locals, and the Chruch in the centre of town is a haven for kids drinking at night and other dodgy dealings. A really 'creepy' place.

Just 3 -4 miles down the road, Sheringham. Much brighter, nicer beach, better pubs, more shops/eateries and generally just more friendly. Lovely place, be a great place for a B3ta Bash at some point, especially in the summer.
( The Great Architect is still waiting for his account to be deleted on, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:21, 4 replies)

Glastonbury
Is full of the most up their own arse types i've ever had the misfortune of crossing. It's split between upper-middle-class twats and wannabe wizards. The types who think buying a quartz encrusted 'wand' suddenly makes them so high and mighty and far more spiritually sound than anyone else.

Also full of trustafarian , Yippie types - who have more money than sense, yet spend half the time squatting in fields just because it makes them feel like 'normal' folk.

Fucking hate the place.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:21, 5 replies)

Spain
My mate Rob is a bit of a ponce, gets his hair done at Toni & Guy and that sort of thing. Anyway a while ago a few of us went on holiday to Spain and got royally sunburnt all except Rob who managed to go a deep shade of bronze. We were gutted all looking like lobsters and Rob managed to get away with it, and then we found out that he'd been going to sunbeds for two months to build up his tan before we went. At last, we had found out the secret of Robbie's Tan.
(davidcompression, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:20, 3 replies)

Formula for posts this week:
[Insert town name] is the worst place on the face of the earth because:

[Insert list of petty irritants which are not funny]

[Ignore the obvious fact that it is inevitable you will despise the place you live/spend most of your time because familiarity most certainly breeds contempt and that, really, all places are equally shit. You only think your town is worse because you see more of it]

[Claim moral and intellectual superiority]

[Final LOL and length gag]
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:18, 9 replies)

Runcorn
is slightly more shite than Sthelens.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:16, 1 reply)

I think it's safe to say
That the whole of the UK is a shithole as every town will at somepoint be mentioned for being full of chavs, having slags plopping out sprogs constantly and having fuckall to do there.

But where i live is worse than yours.
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:12, 1 reply)

Trowbridge
Anyone that's been there will know this doesn't need to be expanded-upon. The only place on the planet with perpetual drizzle.
(RABBALIPZ, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:12, 5 replies)

Hounslow
The only high street I've ever visited with a Poundland, a 99p Store AND a 98p Store.
(Axeman Jim, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:04, 7 replies)

I can sum this qotw up in one fell swoop.
Get an atlas.
Write "It's shit" next to every placename in the index.

Fin.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 16:00, 3 replies)

Just a thought...
Why don't all those people who live in Arsend-by-Nowhere [typical post: there's nothing to do here, it's so bloody quiet] swap with all those who live in Chavington [typical post: it's so bloody noisy, there's crime, rottweilers and chavs. So many chavs...]?
(Merson, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 15:59, Reply)

Bruges
Never has a place been built up and hyped so much, only to disappoint so, so badly.

Perhaps the circumstances of my visit may have clouded my opinion somewhat though:

a) I was there with on an exchange visit with a group of knuckle-dragging schoolmates who thought they were gangsters, but hid in a pub in Lille town centre for 4 hours the week before because a gaggle of local French rudeboys had eyeballed them.

b) It was Sunday, and everything was closed.

c) The few shops that were open didn't take our French Francs, despite us all having been assured otherwise.

d) Even if they did, all you could buy was chocolate and lace, neither of which is much use to a 15-year old boy.

e) There was a 2-hour hailstorm, and the only shelter we could find was under the canopy of a (closed) market stall, where my companions whiled the afternoon away arguing about which jungle DJs were the best.

f) We eventually found an off-licence that took French Francs, and several my esteemed contemporaries proceeded to drink their weedy under-aged frames insensible with the local pear liqueur, resulting in an outbreak of highly comedic violence that resulted in the following day's promised visit to Paris being cancelled.

g) It's in fucking Belgium.

So maybe I'm biased, but I've no intention of ever going back.
(Axeman Jim, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 15:59, 11 replies)

Melton Mowbray
I went expecting to spend the day endulging in gluttonous pie-lust. I couldn't find a decent pie shop and the pie musuem was dull, shabby and depressing.
(Amos Moses, Thu 29 Oct 2009, 15:53, 2 replies)