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Here's a little social experiment for you all to try one
weekend. Drive to Sunderland, go into a pub, order a bevvy and
strike up a conversation with one of the locals (He'll be wearing a
hoop gold earring). Then casually slip this in, '...tell you what
mate, you Geordies are fuckin' sound, fog on the tyne's all mine
all mine....' I'll stop there because that's probably as far as
you'll get and the next voice you hear will be the paramedic's.
We English harbour a xenophobic philosophy, we can't help it. Put
it under the microscope and witness scene's like the one above and
you begin to see where it comes from; if we hate our nearest
neighbours, what chance does the rest of the world have?
And so it is that rivalries are bred across our (un)fair Isles.
But wait, what about those mild-mannered people of The Wirral,
surrounded by water on three sides with the lunatic border
guardians of Ellesmere Port (home of the Astra) keeping out the
riff-raff, who could they possibly have a beef with? Right? Read
on.
A Coral Fan Vents His Spleen.
Right, contrary to popular belief, Hoylake is important for two
reasons. Firstly, it spawned the Coral, music gods, kings of the
universe etc. More importantly, a couple of years ago, it spawned
me. Now that you know that, I think its pretty clear I am more than
qualified to tell you about the not-so-subtle differences between
the Good (Us), the bad (Scousers) and the ugly (Welsh).
N.B. In the true spirit of political correctness I feel it
necessary to abuse those from Wales and those from Liverpool
equally.
On with those reasons:
So there you are. Quite simply, we're a superior race. So just remember the old Tranmere chant:
So fuck your cathedral
And your Pier Head
We are not Scousers
We're from Birkenhead
'Til next time, (if there is one)
Fred