Lucky Col
Dance as though nobody's watching, love like it's never going to hurt

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Border crossing

It's not very often I venture into the disease ridden urban wasteland down the A52 for a night out, in fact, last night was the first time in 38 years.

There's no coincidence that the powers that be built the M1 where they did, the farm instrument wielding in-breds from D***y, intent on finding out what a proper city looks like, pick up their burning torches with their webbed fingers intent on storming Nottingham, only to be scared off by the bright lights & the wheeled metal beasts 'blocking' their path.

But a works outing to a curry house in the worst city in the world meant I had to swallow my pride & my inoculations and travel down Chris Rea's "Road to Hell".

The food was alright at The Shalimar, although whoever decided to extend a very popular restaurant but leave it with one toilet needs shooting. A couple of beers after in the Waterfall and my duck was broken. I feel unclean.

I just hope it's another 38 years before I have to return.

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