Only in Llandyrnog

Oh Llandyrnog! What a terrible place for a young boy like me to be sired! Wales is such a bore. Oh how I long for the ivory coast of England... All day long on weekends, I watch rugby matches on the tele with my father. All we fucking do here is admire. It's a shame and a sin, the fact that we can't have our own fuckin' identities. If I tried in earnest to create something new, the first thing I'd have to do is strip away the hundreds of fucking years of damn influence... It's like stripping the enamel off of your teeth- easy to do with some high-tech equipment, but years to implement by means of soda, gatorade, etc... Anyways, I digress... The most fucking important person to come out of this damn fucking sad excuse for a country, this sad plot of sod, this shitty little absence of water, was Princess Diana. The only reason she ever emerged from indentured servitude was because she was striking, aesthetically pleasing and all that shit. She wasn't brilliant, she wasn't fuckin' prodigious at anything! All she did was be born. Here I am, Adam Van Loewenboorgeor, an ugly fuck. A supreme Cock, in every sense of the word. I have no reason to strive to be anything. So it goes, eh....

2.
I don't know why I rode bus 53. I usually took the 76, but that day I was feeling adventurous. She walked on the bus, holding a jar of peanut butter and a spoon. Fuckin' slut. Her name was Virginia, possibly the least apt name for this particular wench. Just like a dresser that one, some bloke always runnin' through her drawers. But after she walked on, the most beautiful girl in the world followed. (In this case, the phrase most beautiful is a relative superlative, because in Llandyrnog there are no absolutely beautiful women, only conditional ones.) She sat next to me, as there were no other seats. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Virginia licking the bejeesus out of that spoon, probably trying to prove to some bloke she knew a few things. Fuckin' slut. So as I was talking to this relatively attractive girl, I must have let my hate for Virginia slip a few times, contrasting this new nice girl to that slut Virginia, because the girl sitting next to me reprimanded me. Apparently I spent more time talking about Virginia than she would have liked. I guess she's right. What's so great about Virginia? Nothing. Virginia. Fuckin' slut. I love her. Why did she leave me? Why? It may have been the infidelity issue. Don't get me wrong, Virginia bless her heart, was faithful. I slept with another woman during our marriage. She was a girl I'd met at St. Tyrnog's. Fuckin' slut.

3.
Being a member of the Llandyrnog Binge Drinking Society was tough! We practiced thrice a week and honestly, conditions were never great. The rickety, dilapidated, shitty pieces of crap we called "our buildings" seemed to be irreversibly fucked. The beer mugs would break tables as the other members of the LBDS plopped them down. All my life i've wanted to take pride in something. Anything really. This was my last hope. The society was the only thing this town really had going for it. We've won the Denbighshire Cup twice in the last 300 years. Believe it or not, those are the best stats anyone can boast in this town. The society had really been losing its "umph" these last few centuries. How was I to put up with the grueling workouts if I didn't have the same faith my father and my father's father had? Tradition wasn't enough and ultimately i decided to have a kid so I wouldn't have to continue. In Llandyrnog it is tradition to retire from the society and pass its traditions onto the new generation. I'm milking this loophole as much I can now.