of spennymoor

heya


it is said that the population of the UK is about 63 million. this is quite superficial, look you see. a far better, more informed way of saying this is that there are 62,980,000 people living in the UK who seek a much better life and 20,000 in the UK who already have it, for they live in Spennymoor.

yes, no, yes. yes, this is about Spennymoor, no i am not going to do some sort of "tourist information" thing because yes, i know you already know how awesome it is. when it comes to tourism, Spennymoor outranks virtually all non-Royal related attractions in the UK, and even then beats most of the ones with a Royal link that is tenuous at best, such as anything to do with Prince Edward.

as i had the pleasure of recently being a guest within the grounds of Spennymoor i did, however, think that some of you might like some insights, observations and what have you. pictures, yes, to be sure.

oh, surely, yes, that is decidedly a drain. but not just any drain. no, this is a drain in Spennymoor, and thus it is of a calibre and nature superior to others.

to be honest i don't know all that much about the Spennymoor life, other than people in colloquial terms call the place "the Spenny" or "the S". but that picture does give every suggestion of an exciting life. one cannot but help wonder of the circumstances in which a pair of scuba style swimming goggles and a quaffed, emptied and distressed can of Fosters lager ended up down there.

would it be fair to refer to Spennym...the Spenny as "the inland Hartlepool of the Moors"? i am not sure. my observations suggest that the people of Spenny don't go around hanging people or members of the animal kingdom on the grounds of suspicion of being French. yet what they lack in that regard they would seem to make up for, most agreeably, in not randomly handing out parking tickets to anyone who dares visit their fine corner of the land.

yes, that's a mattress in the middle of a road, discarded by someone who has presumably found something more agreeable to sleep on. no, as point of fact, this was not taken in the Spenny. closeish to the place, i suppose, but not actually. i just really had nowhere else to add this picture.

but, that said, i have every confidence that the people of Spennymoor have mattresses on which to sleep and so forth. whereas i do not have first hand knowledge of this, surely it must be the case. the fact that i saw, so far as i can recall, no discarded mattresses during my time in the Spenny suggests that they have developed a more sophisticated means of disposing of unwanted ones. good for them, i say, good for them.

speaking of mattresses for sleeping and so forth, this.

ah, now then. strictly speaking no, this picture was not taken in the Spenny, and nor was it in the land of the abandoned mattress. somewhere central, or in between, the two, we shall say. if they look like what some might call "cock pills" to you, then that is precisely because they are such. two, so far as i could ascertain, empty packets discarded in a bathroom for the gentry. around midday, no less.

i must confess i am quite fascinated by the detail of the consumer, or consumers, of these. was it, i wonder, one gentleman who took both packets, or two gents who took one each, having met in the bathroom and further electing to form a slightly longer than usual short term yet mutually beneficial friendship.

these tablets, or pills, would appear to be called "ultimg" or "ultim8".  believe they are a variation on them famous viagra pills, the blue ones. someone i know, and please for legal reasons can we all just agree that i did not specify or state that it was Spiros, once took four times the prescribed amount of viagra, decking them with several cans of super strength cider. i know this because Spi...because the anonymous person what did it chose to phone me, declare himself the "w@nk!ng warlock" and claimed that for several days after he had been mistaken for a walking, somewhat horizontal version of Gibraltar by several passers by.

smoking in the Spenny? it is not frowned upon any more or less than it is in the rest of the country. a conspired effort, alas, has managed to distract all and sundry with the real evils of society by convincing the masses that cigarettes are to blame for everything.

yes, i really rather enjoyed smoking in Spennymoor. i mean, let's not get carried away. no, it was not "well, i was going to quit, right, but the pleasant experience of smoking in Spennymoor reaffirmed my love of doing it so now i shall not". cigarettes away from the Spenny have been just as enjoyable, let me assure you. but i shall always fondly remember the one or two, several, that i had whilst there.

that's the machine next to the sink where the empty pill packets were. at £3 a go, blimey. the gentleman who had two or gentlemen who had one each were clearly determined that expense should present nor provide any barrier to pleasure. and why not.

have i ever dabbled with such pills? not really, that i am aware of. although no David Lee Roth, my skills and prowess as a sexualist seem to be all natural. perhaps a time shall come when i feel that i require such to enhance or maintain my proclivities. as and when such a time comes, maybe i will rather consult a suitably trained physician or similar rather than relying on a vending machine located in a bathroom of a well known supermarket.

yes, go on then, a slightly closer look at the discarded mattress, to finish off. since, it seems, i took nowhere near as many pictures that i thought i had in The S. maybe i just had a dream, a juicy and succulent one, of taking lots and lots of pictures in the place.

and, well, there we have it. should you be considering a trip to Spennymoor, The Spenny, The S, and for some reason you are looking here for tips and advice, all i can really say is that there's no barrier that should prevent you from going. enjoy it; i did.

right, let me go and have a think or consideration about other matters to write of here.



be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!