Into the Lungs of Hell

This is how the country would look if Nick Griffin's BNP gets in power:


What with the country still in the ICY GRIP OF WINTERY DEATH, I haven't been able to go very far from the house, the news has been telling people to make journeys only if they are essential. But having said that, I mentioned to Ninjasaurus Rex that I wanted to go to Meadowsmell at some point. Since Monday I've had this seed planted in my head about buying a Marks and Spencer pizza. I just fancied one and the desire has grown out of all proportion driven by the lack of ability to move far. I have woken up everyday with a feeling gnawing at my mind: Pizza, pizza, pizza. I have also been wanting to buy some parcels for the books I'm selling on EBay. Ninjasaurus told me his wife, Sarah, was wanting to get a new phone, so we reasoned that all these were legitimate reasons for essential travel in these harsh conditions. They both came to my house and I managed to get the car out of the garage with no problems, but two hundred yards up the road it came to a grinding halt on the small incline up to the main road.

'Try it in a lower gear.'

It took nearly an hour or slipping, sliding and clearing snow with a rake (standing in for a shovel) to get the car back into the garage. We decided that our journey was still essential enough to continue on the bus. It was an exciting adventure for me, journeying into the unknown on public transport. Since having a car I've been able to travel like a KING, whilst the great unwashed moved about crushed together in cattle cars.

'A Daysaver, please'

But Winter turned the tables on me and needs must as the Devil drives, whatever that means, and we took the bus into town. Sarah and Ninjasaurus were old hands at this game and helped me choose the ticket that was right for me.

'Where the fuck is this bus, these two are boring me now...'

We changed buses in Rotherham after a debate over taking the train or another bus. I don't think I would have been able to sustain the excitement had we gone on the train, so we took another bus. This involved standing in the ICY GRIP OF THE WINTER OF DEATH for a while until one arrived. God alone knows how we survived.

'I thought the X78 runs every 12 minutes?'

After battling the elements and scrubbers on the X78 (the route originates in Doncaster, the home of an altogether lower class of people than those from Rotherham...) we arrived at our destination, the Land of Shopportunity: Meadowhell. It was the quietest I'd seen it for a long time, although there were still great gangs of children roaming around. Every single school in Britain has been closed, due to lazy teachers seizing any excuse to not work (they get about 40 weeks off a year already, what more do they want? Blood?) and as a result the children have been running wild in the streets like animals. As it was so quiet I managed to get everything I needed within about ten minutes whilst Sarah signed her soul away on a new phone contract.

Just as Meadowhell should be, when I visit.

Sarah insisted on getting a cover for her new phone so we stepped into the future in the Apple Shop. It was so far into the future there were no tills and Sarah had to pay by telekinesis. With Sarah's mind probed, we needed nothing more and once more boarded a bus, homeward bound.

The future's shite, the future's Apple...