Kingston Upon Hull
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“ Ah yes, how well I remember that pioneering place; the home of "standard toilets" ”
“ It was me who said; if a man is tired of Hull, he has become sane.”
“ We looked into destroying Hull, but then we realised..... what's the point?”
“Hull.. *randy eyebrows* ”
Erkay, serh, behhsicly... (translation: ok, so, basically)
Hull is situated just 20 miles from the village that homes the National Centre for Paedophile Rehabilitation, Goole. Now called Kingston-upon-Hull, due to its ties with Kingston, Jamaica, and the large population of Afro-Caribbeans that inhabit the more affluent areas of Hull.
It was founded on the banks of the River Phoenix in 1065, but after the villagers decided to call their village 'Hull', they altered the name of the river to fit.
Hull is unique in that it is one of only 18 cities in the world to have had their own civil war. As a result of various agreements to end the bloodshed, the inhabitants have been divided along religious lines, with the predominantly Jewish-Muslims in the East of the city, and the Sikh-Christians in the West. For those
crazy bastards tourists interested in visiting, the divide can be seen by travelling along Holderness Rerd to the east, and Hessle Rerd to the west.
There are two types of Hullopian (also known as Hullies in non-standard English), the inbred lower class council house tenants and the upper class people who hunt them on horses. The people who live in Hull mostly think themselves lucky to live there... a place where you can see the very air that you breathe. Sited near the banks of the River Hull, famed for it's clear excrement-brown waters it is an ideal place for those set on, or just contemplating, depression followed by suicide.
'Tourist industry / media types trying to make money from old rope'
Hull is occasionally visited by 'cocky bastards'. These are posh twats, who originate from such towns as 'Winchester' and 'Basingstoke', and have never actually had to work for a living. They tend to think that poor folk are beneath them, and do not appreciate the fact that they keep the nation afloat.
As people from Hull were starting to appear everywhere in the country, such as Rod Hull, it was decided to build a citadel wall, not keep the inhabitants safe from outsider threats, but to keep the local populace inside. Although built in 985AD, it has not weathered time very well, and only a section is still visible at the end of Whitefriargate - you can actually tell when you're almost upon it, as there will be a foul stench of shit wafting through the air from the poorly designed sewerage system.
Hull has a wealth of tourist attractions. These include the world's smallest window ever (previously the world's smallest glory hole), located in the wall of a public convenience. It has an attraction called The Deep, the world's only 'submarium'. It is the only submarium in the world, as the name was made up in order to be unique. It is in fact a big fish tank, that houses things like Giant Squid, Nemo, and Neptune. You can also buy fish and chips here. Irony is not taught in Hull schools.
During the Second World War, Hull took a pounding, as German bombers that had miscalculated the distance to Goole and North Ferriby, prematurely ejaculated their load onto the streets of Hull. Luckily, the council estates were not yet built, so only 6 people were killed, of which 3 of these were in one terrible incident of a direct hit on a chippy - the deep fat fryer was breached and sent hot oil and scraps onto the folk queueing for a spam fritter and scraps. All 3 fatalities were battered to death.
Other notable features of the Hull include the tendency of its citizens to substitute the "o" sound in words (such as "no" and "broke") with an unclassified sound best described as "errhhhh". Indeed sentences such as "errrhhh nerrhhh the ceerrrhhceh cerrrla machine's breeerrrhhhke" have often been uttered around Hull.
A little known fact is that the slappers of Hull are biologically different from other women, and are able to pop out a 'bairn' in the space of 3 weeks. This has resulted from the pressures of evolution: Hull birds have adapted to be able to pop one out in order to keep the benefits rolling in. Families of up to 23 are quite commonplace - living in council funded mansions.
It is not uncommon for a Hullopian to become bored of its surroundings and take a little R & R, often with a few 'bairns' in tow and a fresh Giro. They head towards such havens as Tunstal, Withernsea (A Hullopians Hawaii) or even as far as the seaside town of Bridlington (the cheap council houses and immigrants make them feel at home.) Offering dog shite laden beaches, rich in hyperdermic needles and empty cans of Kestrel Special Brew, it seems the seaside resorts surrounding Hull have much to offer any self-discerning Hullie looking for sun, sand, sea and a sexually transmitted infection.(And yes, you are the only one.)
It is also worth noting, that when you die... you go to Hull
In the news...
In June 2007, God sent the rain. It rained for 40 days and 29 nights, or something like that, and as the flood waters rose, cries of "eerrhh nerrhh" were heard from inside the walls of Hull. Because of these walls, the flood water had nowhere to go, and so for the next month, when a satellite focused on Hull, all that could be seen was what appeared to be a giant swimming pool. Although God had promised never again to send a flood like the one in the Noah story, he did anyway, and like in the story, a hero rose to save the day. And this time, it was the turn of a woman: a lesbian, coincidentally also known as Noah. Luckily, she didn't have to build a boat, as Hull has plenty sitting around anyway. And there weren't that many animals to save so she didn't have to worry about that. Noah took two of every type of Hullie: the crackheads, Hull FC fans, the doley-bums, the (super) mentally challenged, the fat, the slags, the fat slags, the dirty good-for-nothing chavs, the sweaty greebos, the elephant men/women, the pathetic emo kids and whatever else she could find, and stuck them on a P&O ferry. She also grabbed as many chicken pies and hypodermic needles as possible to supply the Hullies with all they would need. The Hullies on the ferry were told they had to repopulate Hull, a task which the slags and chavettes rose to fantastically...
Hull also has its own seaside resort, it is called Withernsea, situated about 117 miles to the east on the bracing North Sea Coast, hopefully sometime soon it will be in the sea due to coastal erosion, as this will give the local paper something to get excited about after the recent opening of Aldi in 2008 and the last time the traffic lights changed in 1978. Since the year 1979, when a bizarre serious of events involving a cat, 3 firemen and 12 square feet of poison ivy led to an elderly woman accidentally receiving a historectomy, nothing has happened in Withernsea.
Withernsea is also the home of playing bingo for crap prizes such as plastic fish which light up (batteries not included), ashtrays which spin round to hide the dogends when you press the top down, and assorted plastic and fake porcelain ornanments.
Hull is used by the British army for training it's drivers before they depart for less violent parts of the world, such as Iran and Afghanistan. The drivers are housed in the relative safety of Beverley and only brought forward to the hot zones of Bransholme and Orchard Park Estate after they have undergone extensive training to deal with threats. The youths of Bransholme and Orchard Park take great delight in ambushing Saxon armored cars with petrol bombs and RPGS 7s. Colonel Gerald Tomkin-Blaggard of the Army Central School of Driving stated "Hull is the ideal training ground for our young chaps, it provides them a realistic hostile environment that mirrors the conditions we face in war zones"
Unconfirmed reports are stating that there is a young Chav-Lad driving around in a T reg Audi that is actually insured under his name, and paid for legitimately. Although bound to be a rumour, one has to wonder, what has that chav done to afford that car? Drug dealing? Probably.
Meanwhile, in the luxury villas of Bransholme, a young girl is crying as her pregnancy results have come back negative. You can hear the benefits slipping away as I write this. One girl with eight multi-coloured children are thrown out onto the mean streets. Making way for the honda driving square heads.
Hull was once home to so called 'intellectuals', however, they disappeared up their own arses when asked to contribute something of real value to modern society. Today the city lives by its wits, with a mixture of scroungers and genuine 'ordinary' people, who don't have to depend on Mater and Pater to subsidise their denigration of those poorer than themselves.