Darwen
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“Those dark, satanic mills, the flowing River Darwen down to the Ribble, the moorland, what a shitehole”
~ Noel Coward on Darwen
“You Can Get A Right Tasty Pasty”
~ Chris Byrne on Darwen
“You Can Shag A Dirtsie Here Layd !”
~ Pietro Capitelli on Darwen
“Youve got to visit the Roxy, Probably the best night life in the World!!”
~ Reggie Botox on Darwen
“I don't just fit aerials i run the fuckin town!!!”
~ Paul 'Who's the daddy' Browne on Darwen
“I'm going to run every pub possible in Darwen”
~ Craig 'you're fired' Rustidge on Darwen
“I ventured forth and bought a pasty, got deliriously pissed in the New Inn, walked outside and got filled in. ”
~ E.E.Cummings on Darwen
Darwen (Often confused with bullshit or "the road just off Blackburn") is a small town, no bigger than a basket of fruit, situated in the East Lancs area of Northern England. The town was named after Charles Darwin, after he discovered the missing link between apes and humans were actually still alive and well living here. Not one person who lives there is not interbred, making it the worlds largest and most handicapped family. It also has interesting wildlife, with Chavs nesting outside Bargain Booze throughout most of the year. It has a small colony and soldier house called Runshaw College created for them by their local god tinky winky. It's also known to have strong connections to Narnia where it sends all of its beautiful people to be raped and burnt at a stake as they're far too good looking to live in this crummy little town.
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[edit] History
Darwen, also known as "Blackburn's Bitch" was founded in 10 million BC by a caveman, he and his wives left no evidence of their habitation. It is however known that he was there. More recently, in 1832 the Government decided to section off an area of Northern England for industrial activities, and chose Darwen, because only Mongs, Chavs and drugged cats called 'Wilma' lived there, and nobody cared.
Hundreds of cotton mills were built or flown in, some having to be stacked on top of one another, due to lack of space, which is one of many comparisons that can be drawn between Tokyo and Darwen. (Incidentally, Tokyo was named in 1999 as Darwens “Sister City”, after a long and fruitful relationship in the human traffic business.)
Unfortunately in the last fifty years or so, the demand for cotton fell, as clothes started to be produced from crude oil byproducts and into Kappa tracksuits. This meant that everybody lost their jobs, and started pratting around in wheelchairs to try and claim "compo". Either that or they were disabled.
Darwen residents do not believe in the physics of planet earth as we would know it. They simply believe that Darwen is a small flat continent floating through space of which it is possible to "fall off the edge". Hence, no Darwener has ever travelled beyond the limits of the town boundary for fear that they may "fall off Darwen". This theory has existed here since the very dawn of time and has been embellished by the educational establishments, thus instilling those very beliefs in the townsfolk from birth onwards. There have been unconfirmed reports of Darweners taking it upon themselves to foolishly attempt the journey to the unknown (a.k.a. bus into Blackburn) although none have made it so far.
The mayor of Darwen, Mr Mick Darwen, lives in the nearby hamlet of Hoddlesden with his common law wife, Erogenique. He has hairy, mal-formed, six-toed feet and has worked as the foot stunt double of Elijah Wood (Frodo Baggins) in the Lord of the Rings films. He also spent several years as the keyboard player and flautist of 1970s Dutch progressive rock band Focus.
[edit] Places to go and see
There are many famous landmarks in darwen, and the town attracts a healthy number of visitors from Tokyo, who take many many pictures. A list is given but is by no means comprehensive. There is a finalised comprehensive list in the Tourist office.
- Jubilee tower: Many people think that this was opened by Queen Victoria during her jubilee anniversary to honour Darwen’s contribution to Britains prosperity during the industrial revolution. This is wrong, and anyone who says differently is a fucking liar. "homeless-cock-sucking-fuckers", the plural for people from darwen believe the tower is actually a rocket ship, it's waiting until the dawners masterplan of World Domination. They believe that when the "homeless-cock-sucking-fuckers" take over the world, they will enter the ship and take off to the next planet.
After many years in a psychiatric clinic named after george formby, people from darwen are begining to accept this as utter bolloks. It was actually the product of large government spending, aimed at housing the north-west. Little did the complete southern cunts realise was that the tower would need a greater capacity that 8 tramps to hold the entirity of the north west of [england]]
Recently, a dog or more likely a koala, was hit by a motorcar in the Sudellside area. The car was of course driven by a non local, or “outlander” as they are named, and the lady was burned at the stake in the town centre, before being catapulted to blackburn rovers football club in accordence with Darwen Common Law. (See subclause A – proper burning of foes)
A commemorative plaque is present dedicated to the ladies family, with an Official Apology from Darwen Council, who were powerless in the incident. If you are quick, you can still catch the departed animal in its later stages of decomposition, however there is an entrance fee of 15p (2001 prices) purely charged for upkeep of the grounds and to provide a skeleton staff.
- There are numerous pastie shops in the town and tours of these can be arranged.
- For the more discerning a variety of pound shops are available.
- Methadone centres and needle exchanges are always fun for kids and Darwen has plenty on offer.
- Darwen is home to Britains most popular hotel, Darwen Tower, which is home to at least half of the Darwen population every day.
Don't worry about wheelchair accessibility. If you let go of a wheelchair from 100ft either side of the town centre, it will provide a thrilling ride down the valley, give an overview of the pastie and pound shops and make it to the other side, where every piece of available land or building is being turned into flats. Or pastie and pound shops.
Before any visit to Darwen is complete, one should seek out and glimpse a view of the town's most famous binge-drinker and failed womaniser, Jefferson Mizon.
Jeff can be seen in any number of Darwen's public houses from the hours of lunch time on Fridays, right through until after mid-night, on the following Monday morning. If an early tour can be organized, Jeff can be caught in the Sunnyhurst Public House at around 9am on a Sunday Morning. This is the best time to catch Jeff in his natural habitat -
- girls be aware that the Mizon is at his predatory best in this situation and would do well to not feed it fresh apple cider - be especially aware if it has eaten, "prescription based pharmaceuticals." In this instance, he would surely consume you with his lustful appetite - Girls, HOLD ON!!
He will be unclean and unshaven as he clutches his cider. He may well give off an odour that will give clues as to where he spent the night. These fumes will range from cheap perfume (a creature from Roxy) to the smell of "street" (where Jeff didn't pull and his parents locked him out)
BREAKING NEWS JUST IN: ----
This journalist had just gone out to celebrate a friend's birthday, when I glimpsed the, almost legendary, "Mizon," animal! Fear and awe struck me speechless, as it lurched past me, and leant its almighty weight against the bar. Its speech was incomprehensible to the bar tender. A series of painful growls, coupled with a flurry of inaccurate hoof pointing toward the intended liquid it required, eventually brought its rewards, and yet more cider was thrust toward this rank, insatiable, spawn of the Roxy.
As I gazed, warily, at this filthy, odious beast, I could see that it had grazed very recently, as its snout was red, and traces of the poison it had consumed, were clear on its ravaged nose. The tell-tale marks of its insidious night's rambling were clear. From its pelt, which was sodden in its own sweat, and had reacted badly to the bottled musk that it had learned to open, and then spray upon its ogreish frame, in a laughable attempt to mask the creatures stale fumes, to the enraged eye.... the mad eye, (for it has only one), that appears after the Mizon is rejected, again, by the females that it yearns for. Suddenly, its eye opened wide! It had seen prey!!!! A young girl had wandered away from her herd and left herself isolated. In its uncanny way of knowing that it was a single mother, it reeled toward her! I had heard the mythical tales of this beast, long before I had witnessed its shallow depths, this evening. Stories of its desire to breed, despite the malfunctions of its penis.... Legend has it, that the Mizon receives only one erection in every 7 day periods and, as a result, consumes this erection to itself in the security of its parent's lair.
This inability to consumate and therefore breed, may go a long way to explain as to why the Mizon only seeks females with child.
As the Mizon stumbled toward its goal, greeting onlookers he passed as if he were a Peter Stringfellow-type animal, the elders of the girls group suddenly became aware of his presence, and rushed to aid their vulnerable sister.
Calm descended upon the group as it arrived. It circled and it pursed its lips; an action it does when it is confused, and an action it does most often! It was clear that the Mizon had met this confrontation before, for it did not yield! It stood its ground, and was not ashamed as it sweat in front of them! And then it attempted to woo the young girl. I had my recorder with me, and this is the detailed transcript: -
The Mizon - "Hiya. Didn't I see you in Last Orders, before?"
Female Group Leader - "Fuck off, you scruffy fat cunt! You're a slapper! You've already tried it on with me tonight, and you couldn't even remember you tried to shag my sister!"
Young Prey - "Aww, leave it; his eye is dead blue! And, let's not forget, I'm gonna have to bring this kid up on my own if I don't get someone!"
The Mizon - (to Female Group Leader) "I didn't try to shag your sister! I only ever wanted to shag you, but you're both ugly, so I get confused! You've fucked things up, now. I've forgotten who I want to get knocked back off!! D'oh!"
I couldn't record any more, as the doormen gripped the befuddled creature and removed him from the female's danger.
That was the last time I saw the Mizon, that night. But the mind plays strange tricks; On my way home from my friends house, at 8am the next morning, I could have sworn I heard a wretched, eerie sound coming from an alley way. As the noise settled on the wind, I believed I could hear the Mizon's scrambled voice screeching......
"I'm-not-getting-any-sex-with-my-useless-cock-that-won't-ever-go-hard-unless-I-wank-and-even-then-its-about-the-metal-that-work-with,"
........ but I could've been mistaken.
Surely the Mizon, this creature that stalks the streets of Darwen, would be rapping at the window of the White Lion at this time on a Sunday morning.......?
[edit] Local activities
Visitors who don’t just want to go down the “tourist route”, and wish to experience the rich textures and creamy wholesomeness of life enjoyed by Darwen folk, are advised to “get out” and be welcomed by the warm population.
Witness a traditional factory worker making condoms from local plastic by peeping your head around Dalecuts door. Although this factory claims to recycle plastic, their product looks suspiciously like spaghetti, which they then chop up into pellets. This is obviously the site of the food factory which feeds the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
Employees eat only sausage barms as they are primarily meat-based beings serving McJesus.
Employees have a distinctive 'gay-laugh' which can be elicited easily by chanting the following phrase: "Mary loves Dick".
They can be effectively provoked by asking "what was the pre-paedo point?". They are sometimes guarded by drunken Aztecs, this is the company next door which is trying to rebuild the aincent civilisation by drinking and worshipping wood. They like wood.
Dalecuts Dwarfs are all under three feet tall and are photographed only on rare occasions as they are close relatives of the Oompa Loompas and Munchkins, feel free to ask them to show you their spaghetti.
You could take a traditional Darwen night out with the locals, and have a hearty meal at one of Darwen’s premier eateries. This guide personally recommends “The Akash” where if asked, the Michelin-starred Chef will put a bit of toilet paper on top of your curry to absorb grease. (as recommended by weightwatchers). This could be followed by a few cocktails at an exclusive bar, such as the Victoria Hotel. Visitors are reminded that “the stockmarket “ is where meat juices are traded, and that “the property ladder” exists for a man to gain access to a property from a first floor window.
For those who wish to sample the more cultural aspects of Darwen, "Fight Night" in one of the local pubs is definitely worth a go. "Fight Night" is a naturally occurring phenomenon and can be witnessed in any given pub at any day or night of the week. However, for the discerning weekend visitor, the New Inn on Market Street is highly recommended for those who seek Return On Investment (ROI). If one can stomach the low quality alcohol served then prepare for a spectacle. Mine host will guarantee a fight which will commence upon entry or will already be underway. However, there is no guarantee that you may not be directly involved.
You could top the night off with a visit to one of the UK’s hottest nightspots, “The Roxy”. Here, you will meet the famous duo , Pietro Capitelli and Matt Duerden. In this internationally acclaimed arena of music, the Hacienda of Darwen, once you have patiently queued and avoided the bouts of fisticuffs that appeal to slack-jawed locals, as they attempt to attract the romantic attentions of their sisters and cousins, then slipped the doormen a gramme to gain entry, you will find yourself in the shining beacon that is Roxy - nightclub, par excellence! If you are a reasonable looking female, aged 10 - 14, you will find yourself catapulted to the head of the queue and straight to Reg; King of Kiddies, whereupon he will attend to your every whim. This 80+ year old, orange-skinned lothario, is famous in this luscious, late-night heaven and, as the old Darwen maxim goes, "If you've never been fingered by Reg, you must have reached puberty!"
Remember, nothing finishes the night like joining warm company around a glowing fire. This can be accomplished by arriving at Jay and AK around 12 midnight when the local branch of cultural development group "Scally McChav" like to bring the communities youth together by setting alight the inviting building. If you are willing to 'cop-off' then local delicacies Pastie Barm and warm White Lightening may be provided. Perhaps even entertainment in the form of Dalecuts staff working nightshift coming out, wearing their 'dickies' uniforms, to play with their special instruments in the corner.
One of the finer traditions of the elite class of Darweners (those that reside in high-class condos in the districts of Sunnyhurst, or Whitehall) is that of 'tranny-baiting'. Simply put, a group of men, riding horses and adorned in red jacketry, ride into local pubs and try and flush out a tranvestite. Then they are chased throughout town until they are caught and ritualistically Rodgered with a fishfork. There has been much debate in Parliament of late about the morality of this practice, yet Darweners steadfastly maintain it is the underpinning of their cultural identity. The most likely places to find transvestites include the Anchor, the George and the Millstone.
Whatever you decide to do, please come and visit, and remember Darwens motto "We welcome outsiders.......To Hell."
[edit] Local Ramblings of Darwenian citizens section
Unconfirmed reports state that "The Flying Spaghetti Monster" was sighted over Darwen, other reports state it was last nights dinner being thrown out of a top floor kitchen by an irate all engulfing local resident Condoleeza Rice. Either way Darwen is in a permanent state of Pasta War, and tourists are encouraged to travel with several collinders and a bottle of pesto. People are also invited to view local legend Josh Riley who is, at times, found feasting on the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
[edit] Redevelopment plans
There have been talks about redevolping Darwen town centre and it's surrounding areas. One such plan involved flattening everything, cementing over it all and simply starting again. Another involved lifting the whole town into the air with thousands of helicopters and dumping it in Chernobyl's exclusion zone to try and improve hygeine. One critic argued that these plans were too expensive, but was then correctly shown that the plans were aimed at Darwen.
[edit] Interesting Facts
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi is believed to have one visited Darwen at the beginning of the 20th century, surprisingly he didn't stop for long.
Darwen has the highest methadone user statistics in the north west.
It is the only place in the world that defies evolution, with it's residents maintaining the same intelligence as the caveman that created the town 10 million years ago.
It has the most pastie shops of any north west town.
Greggs Bakery in the town centre is the biggest selling Pasty outlet worldwide. They shift between 3-5 million Pasties per hour. Often purchased by a single customer. Sometimes two.
There is a McDonalds in Darwen. It is the only branch worldwide which serves White Lightning.
It has the biggest rat problem in the north west.
Darwen Tower, a small stone bus-stop shelter on a hill, is the home of Sir Dr Sam Halliwell OBE MBE BBC OCD ASBO.
Miss Darwen 2007 John Sedgwick lives there.
It is unclear if these are linked unless you enter a Darwen home, then it is clear.
At 1pm sharp every day, the local Wailing Woman stands in front of Boots on Duckworth Street and wails for 5 minutes. Many local residents treat this as a way to tell the time, very much like the 1pm cannon at Edinburgh Castle.
At 1.05pm each afternoon, a group of around 50 ex-employees from Belgrave Mill gather inside the White Lion pub and get pissed, including the wailing woman.
Many believe that darwen chavs are a whole new breed as they seem to be less intelligent then your average chav and are most often interbred.
Darwen is thought to be the largest single family in the entire cosmos which has led to the breed of humans known as chavs
They worship tinky winky and one of their most famous colonies was the temple of roonshore now known as runshaw
Darwen was one of the few industrial towns in the UK not to be bombed by the Germans during the second world war. German historian Herr E Twat argues that the reason for this was that German pilots flying overhead looked down and assumed it had already been bombed.
[edit] Blackburn
[edit] Background
Situated near the idyllic town of Darwen, Blackburn boasts the nations highest rate of muslims(18.3 per 3Bedroom House). Acclaimed for its award winning immigration levels Blackburn centre on a Saturday is like a U.N Summit(without the intelligence).
[edit] History
Amid mass debate variations of the true meaning of Blackburn have been derived, scholars claim the true meaning is of course 'Arabic' for 'Cunt-Ridden-Dump'. Although credible figures back this up the Blackburn residents or 'wankers'(as known throughout) refuse to see the black and white evidence. Of course the town's total IQ level is matched by the record attendance of 'Walkers Rentboys' lying at around 35.
[edit] Sports
Of course Blackburn isn't just a shit-hole filled with chav's and foreign imports. Many of the population are descendants of the late Jack'the twat'Walker, it is a well known fact that during the cunt's time in the town he was an instant success. The women of Blackburn craved a man who showered weekly and used electricity, women struggled to fend off his wealth and it is believed he impregnated Kerry Katona before giving birth to many of todays population. The locals pay pilgrimage to the towns rich tradition and every market day mass inbreeding takes place in the local Iceland. Inbreeding is Blackburn's finest sporting accolade, currently 3rd in the highly acclaimed Welsh-League it is believed that over 43 'Walk-tonas' are spurted out of the holy bargain base.
Darwen recently acquired a branch of the popular 'Subway' chain. Unfortunately they didn't have a sub for when your mum has just given birth to your second child and you want to go out for a celebratory 'posh' tea. They also didn't serve pasties, two fundamental flaws in their marketing scheme for Darwen.
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