Blackpool Illuminations
Blackpool is a seaside town, located in Lancashire, in the North-West of England it lies along the coastal line of the Irish sea and has a population o 142,900 according to Wikipedia.
As I grew up in Greater Manchester, may I just remind people that it does not have a coastal line of any sea surrounding the United Kingdom itself, so frequent trips to seasidal areas were often enjoyed. Blackpool being the most. I’ve seen everything that Blackpool has to offer, Its Tower, the Pier, the Pleasure beach, the Shops you name it I’ve been there. The only thing I haven’t seen however were the Illuminations which are only on for a certain amount of months throughout the year.
In early October 2007 my mum informed me that we was going to be staying at a Caravan Park (we have a lot of them in England) in Cleaveleys which is about twenty minutes away from Blackpool and fifteen from Fleetwood which is an adjacent of Blackpool. I didn’t particulary want to go as I thought it’d would be quite boring seeing as it was only going to be Me, my mum, my dad and my gran. My brother, who is seventeen excluded himself from going which caused a lot of… friction between him and my parents. I can’t say I blamed him for not going actually.
As we arrived there, I knew from the start that it was going to be boring. The Caravan Park itself was full of old aged pensioners or middle-aged people that were abit more upper-class. And seeing as my family and I were brought up middle class, we didn’t feel right there. I was glad that we was only going to spend two nights in that shithole. Seriously, I think that I would have jumped off Blackpool Pier itself, swam out to sea and then would have purposely drowned if I was to spend a week there.
We decided on going to Fleetwood Market the next morning, in hopes of finding some bargains. I destest markets very much I dislike those annoying men that are Londoners (well the majority of them) and go “Ello there dahlinnn, you alright, wanna get sarm barrgeens, designer handbags goin’ cheap as cheeps laa’” It’s like “I wish I did have some chips to ram down your throat you stupid idiot. And by the way I’m not your darling, you don’t even know me.” Oh God and don’t get me started on those rip-off ‘designer’ bags that you get, that have looked like they’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards and mangled by a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. I’ve never seen the point in them and I don’t think I ever will. Hmm… maybe breaching the copyright law didn’t appeal to the market owners I suspect? I don’t think Louis Vuitton or Balenciaga will be happy and jolly at the fact that some twerp is ripping off their own designs.
Anyway, it was packed out which didn’t suprise me. It’s a wonder that I actually survived there, I’m not a very patient person a lot of the time and I find it hard to be patient. It isn’t just me though, I blame my father for my limited paitence, he’s just as bad. So we travelled back to the Igloo (the Caravan, it was cold as Antarctica in that weekend I tells you). I was bored out of my brains with nothing on television, alls I could ever do was take my dog out on a walk and even that bored the arse off me so I made a suggestion to visit Blackpol Illuminations, and suprisingly my family accepted it. Needless to say, I was happy that I was going but being the pessimist that I am, I had my doubts about the event that was going to happen.
Looks like I thought too soon on the pessimist note. God it was shit as for one, it was raining when we arrived there we had to delve into the back streets of houses for a parking space after we had gone through the Illuminations which lasted about friggin’ 3 hours at that and even then it was chock-a-block. The Illuminations themselves were waste of time seeing as they looked like a load of tacky over powered lights from Las Vegas or an OTT Crimbo’ tree decked out with like TONS of Multi-coloured lights that you could buy at a cheap supermarket (the ones that conk out after a day of purchasing) like OMGZZZ they were like so HAWWTT. Not.
When we evenutally got out of the car and walked a long the promenade, it then came to the ridiculously over-priced items eg. Flashing Bunny Ears yeahh as if I really wanted to put them on my head. Smart move that was. Even the refreshments totalled up to a large amount of money for instance, Candy Floss or Cotton Candy for ya’ll Americans was around about £3.00 just for on measly Candy Floss which was on a stick. The price doubled up when it came to a bucketful, £6.00 I know! 6 bleedin’ pound! Red nosed robbers I tell you.
Oh yeah, then you got the jeering drunks, who were, predictively acting like right prats just because England had won some cup in Rugby. Wow like I really did care, I show no interest in Rugby I think it’s pointless and boring and rough. If I did want to show my patrotic side of things I’d just watch England at football but then again, we have shit team and haven’t won anything since 1966 that pretty much brings England to shame. I despise Drunken men I really do I don’t even like my dad being drunk.. I mean one even leered at that particular night he said that I was beautiful and that he’d love to do it with me. I hit back with a slight “Fuck off you perverted creep, go shag some tramp.” this was when my parents and my gran were from a distance. I said it loud enough for him to hear which ended up with him lunging at me but then some other guy jumped in so they started fighting and then it all kicked off just because he said that to me, and I was quick enough to retaliate. I quickly scurried along, it weren’t just that fight that I witnessed there were tons, probaly brawling about the team England won or whatever.
Then the playboy bunnies came on the scene, oh yeah lovely site that was you know it really
is so nice to see women who are in between their early forties to late fifties trying to get away with looking young.. *ahem* cough not. I’m not against young girls dressing up in Playboy bunny outfits because some suit it, the party-goers and dancers at a strip-club I mean it is their job and what they enjoy doing after all. Although you’d never see me dressed in any skimpy stuff whatsoever but these women that I saw were dolled up like dogs dinners that looked like they were going to a porno shoot in ’sexy’ clad underwear and corsets In fact, I wouldn’t even say they were corsets, just a bra about 159038860689 sizes too small for their overflowing mountainious breasts to handle. Even Dolly Parton would have had a run for her money. So they were doing this trashy, slaggy act, flirting with the men and trying to get it on with them. Mhm yeah, they [the men] must have been drunk to get with them bunch of tossers.Either that or on some fuckin’ illusinative.
Furthermore, let me conclude that I did not enjoy seeing Blackpool Illuminations one bit. I’m still young, thirteen so I’m not that old for me to grow out of stuff. But that has put me off going to Blackpool probably for ever. Nothing’s the same anymore if I was six in the late 90’s I would have actually enjoyed that trip. Now Blackpool has just become a dump. If you like riots, drunken men/women, gangs of yobs and tacky lights then Blackpool’s teh place to be COZ ITZ LIKE SO0O0O C00L.
Oh and if you want food posioning, I suggest you do try the delicious disgusting Kebabs that they have from the insect/rodent infected Kebab houses they have in Blackpool. The taste is of an overwhelming piece of shit.
