Welcome to the
bustling hedonistic throb of Stubbington
Village Square.
Lets look at the main highlights the
thrill-seeking traveller can find there.
Some find it baffling that Stubbington's
officially classed a small town.
Feeling that compared to Leicester Square
it is rather a let down. But there's a pulsating
library with books on war time saving.
Plus a community centre full of over 50s
raving.
For the adrenalin junkies theres a
bowling yawn over yonder.
Why do people play tennis next door in
the rain? Sane people ponder.
If you need to
spend a penny the toilet facilities are
first rate.
Inside each unflushed cistern who knows
what sights await!
The authentic aroma of urine, the
grafittied walls so dapper.
Pleasant musings of charming young
schoolgirls -"Kelly is a slapper."
The transport
networks found in the village are truly
world class.
The bus stop with haggard pensioners
clutching their bus pass.
The no.72 approaches with stressed driver
and his silent rages.
Occasional taxi waits in rank so driver
can read the sports pages.
At the butchers
unsurprisingly batchelors slice carcasses
with a passion.
While over-enthusiastic geriatrics queue
for beef like its cold war rations.
At the chemist, where the no. of staff
working there is over prescribed.
Taking their daily siesta as mothers with
ill babies wait outside.
Evelyns with over-priced
photo frames a highlight of this town?
Tiffanys ballgowns with haughty faced
spinsters eyeing you up and down.
The dazzling pattisserie, gaudy iced
birthday cake and the odd stale roll.
Iceland next door, perfect for harassed
mums and those on the dole.
Pot bellied fools
splurging their giro in the bookies,
risking all for a bet.
Feeling peckish? Pop next door for a
kebab with a side order of sweat.
If that makes you keel over theres a
funeral directors next door.
A florist alongside for well wishers -
could you ask for anything more?
To further
complement this state of affairs and just
to lessen their load.
Stuck up estate agents assist greedy
relatives, selling your humble abode.
Parkers DIY the route to the pay desk
seem like the Green Mile.
Your questions met with blank expressions
- good ole service with a smile.
The bewildering
array of shops await you in the
Stubbington Mall.
As drunken oiks emerge bewilderingly into
daylight from the snooker hall.
Status Carpets mistake your home for the
Taj Mahal when quoting a price.
Dull craft shop with ink pots and card
making stencils all very nice.
How they make money
is beyond anyone but then again...
There are unconfirmed sightings of one
customer buying a pen.
For the less discerning customer Martins
offers cheap bics and kids' toys.
Friendly manager Barry chastising
gormless paper boys.
The Piece De
Resistance, Budgens, staff training was
never taught.
Food way over-priced and customer service
an afterthought.
A charming throng of Nike wearing louts
spewing up cider outside.
Sneering at wimpy bobbies who drive past,
off to their offices to hide.
The historic War
Memorial now a breeding ground for
inarticulate thugs
Who wouldn't know sacrifice if it hit
these turds in their ungrateful mugs.
Want more fun? The Red Lion pub where
washed up couples hold hands.
Suspiciously eye other couples while
pretending to enjoy dull jazz bands.
Why would anyone
want to sip coffee in some upmarket
Parisien square?
Do the Hollywood boulevard or malls of
Milan even compare?
You wanted the Rough Guide and thats what
you got
Welcome to Stubbington the "town"
that time forgot.
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