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Rough Guide To Stubbington Village
by Rebecca Burke

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.