I lived for a while in a great metropolis of um, several hundred people, somewhere in the wilds south of the Humber, west of the Trent. It was physically not tremendously far from either Doncaster or Scunthorpe, but, in all other ways was galactic distance from the rest of the world.
And then! Traffic lights! The wonder of the age, at the crossroads where Sue's house kept getting crunched by lorries. On a friday night, we'd put rows of seats out, and the locals would sit for hours, watching the colours change.
p.s. Said village... pay me in gold, quick, or I'll reveal your backward name. p.p.s. Has the parish council decided if the witches grave can be ploughed over yet?
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It looks like a baby making kind of town.
We have the highest level of teenage pregnancy would you believe!
I lived for a while in a great metropolis of um, several hundred people, somewhere in the wilds south of the Humber, west of the Trent.
It was physically not tremendously far from either Doncaster or Scunthorpe, but, in all other ways was galactic distance from the rest of the world.
And then! Traffic lights! The wonder of the age, at the crossroads where Sue's house kept getting crunched by lorries.
On a friday night, we'd put rows of seats out, and the locals would sit for hours, watching the colours change.
p.s. Said village... pay me in gold, quick, or I'll reveal your backward name.
p.p.s. Has the parish council decided if the witches grave can be ploughed over yet?
Sob, The nearest village still uses the ducking still to check the witches. I suspect there are a few down that way myself.....
Sob, The nearest village still uses the ducking still to check the witches. I suspect there are a few down that way myself.....
Hee hee, gotta love it!
No, you don't have to love it.....
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