Psycho's Geography : With Vitriol


There is a continuum that runs through town guides; from tourist puffery, through the closely observed and fanciful perceptions of the pyschogeographers, to…(Link)……

Do you have an overload of bile that needs to be dumped somewhere? Ilivehere is the dump. It sucks in advertisers and attracts eyeballs by letting locals vent. Even though they are frequently misogynistic and snotty and their grammar and spelling are often as bad as mine, they sometimes sport a lovely turn of phrase.  I have left all of it, and the shower of asterisks, in the extracts here. 


Think of 1950s East Berlin crossed with North Korea. The principal economic activity is selling over priced coffee to lazy people who can’t work a kettle. Sometimes when the weather is nice, a ferry runs. People have to sell their children to afford the fares. When they’re sick, people try to avoid going to the Hospital which is run by a Farmer.


…..couldn’t even believe they had a coffee shop seeing as no one in Lowestoft knows how to pronounce Caffe Latte without it sounding like some awful venerial disease…….I can’t imagine a better place to start a medical research facility seeing as no one has jobs and everyone is about as ******* intelligent as a chimp.


If Margate is a spot on England’s *******, Westgate on Sea is the pus.

St Leonards

… now becoming the (2nd) home of a quite different, but equally odious breed of investment class ********, the hipster’s parents. That’s right, the twenty something ‘self facilitating media node’ trustafarians still prefer Brighton or Dalston, but not their mummies and daddies.  The worst part of the gentrification is the gratitude these vultures expect from the indigenous working class. “Oh you’ve opened a poncey fine wine shop or a vegan cup cake bakery in one of the poorest wards in the constituency and the south east? gawd bless you guv’nor! You’re a wealth creator, dragging us unfortunates aaaght of the gutter!”

Boston Lincs

It’s almost like a parody of a chavtown, every bad thing done to excess. After washing the blood off my front door for the umpteenth time (I used to live in Vauxhall Rd near the footy ground) and wiping the phlegm off my shoes once again after walking the pavements, I decided to get out. No more twats trying to cycle through me on the pavement, no more dodging the skagheads and drunks trying to force money out of me when I went for a drink, no more wasters begging for drug money while eastern europeans were drafted in to work in the fields because the locals prefer to scrounge, no more burglars trying to get into my shed.


 the inhabitants are caught in a time warp circa 1970. It’s all Mungo Jerry this and Woolworths Pick’n’Mix that. What exactly HAVE you given to the world Stoke-on-Trent? Cups and saucers, Jackie Trent (technically not a Stokie but from over the border in Newcastle-under-Lyme) and Oatcakes. Jesus. You don’t even have a serial killer to boast about Stoke – you boring dying rectal fissure so just zip your dimwitted mouths and go and live in Rhyl or whatever other sh*tty place you holiday in and eat Arctic Roll.


Well the rabidly racists that live here would take you down the immigration route, let me tell you that is a load of ********. Most of the mouth breathers that have never worked a day in their lives are trash, with scuzzy malnourished offspring with a perennial runny nose and scabies.

…..the hatred for their own offspring by the bloated lycra wearing beauties is proof that the only reason they pop them out is for the ‘bennies’ that flood into their ****** Post Office accounts on a weekly basis. Standing outside Mickey D’s screaming at Kayden/Jayden/Letitia/Kylie to ‘finish your ******* nuggets you little sh*t’ is as common as they are. It is all here, money laundering enterprises disguised as vape shops and shisha bars, kebab vans that scream Ebola and more charity shops than people working are proof that human life is coming to an end.


There local young population are bad or worse, they regularly hang about in the town centre doing cocaine listening to their ‘sick beats bro’ which sound like a live ******** in a Syrian prison…... zoots’ in the adidas jacket, and their intention to hold up the local kebab shop with a knife they have nicked from Tesco’s.

The worst thing about the population of Rugeley and the whole of the place in general is the hateful and rat ******** Rugeley market. Inside resembles a Chernobyl tribute enactment museum, where people of sixty years of age look like they have seen as a ghost, with no hope and dreams left in them ….. It has mouldy old fruit, dog toys and the odd sweet seller whose products look like they’re from 1993. ...Anyway, Rugeley is the town equivalent of Ryanair. 

Another take on Rugely

The species chavus-scumbagus is an extremely interesting subject in this habitat they seem to live primarily upon items stolen from the nearby fish and chip shop and defend their territory of the estates using things stolen from the nearby SPAR shop……


….These old farts congregate in the tea shops and butterys and pass their time by eating buns and sipping their stone-cold tea, then it’s out on to the local shops which sell all the usual naff tourist **** from tea towels to bog roll holders. There are no yobs, ****** “lovely travelling folk” or any anti social elements in Battle, just a load of ******* boring pensioners who walk around aimlessly stinking of piss and talcum Powder.


The fact that it was the site of the UKs first public condom machine says all you need to know. Nuneatons retail area, is currently going through a slump bigger than a room full of pregnant ********* engaging in a cornetto eating contest. Type Nuneaton into the BBC news search engine and you will see just how inventive a Nuneaton **** can be, from setting a 11 year old’s hands on fire to happy slashings, where a random bystanders ear is cut off for the rest of the crews pleasure.


Anyone who even thinks of passing through Rochdale might be advised to take a safer route, eg. a rickety bridge over the Grand Canyon, or doing breaststroke through the river Styxx, or maybe an Al Quaieda training camp during a nuclear test. The highlight of the general conversations include who’s hardest, who you’re going to fancy “4eva”......

You have a choice, visit Rochdale, or have your gonads beaten 800 times with a rusty sledgehammer wielded by a German bodybuilder… I’ll get the hammer.


I mean C’mon if leaving the country and feeling safer in CALAIS of all places.......


(on the introduction of sculpture into the town centre) The first of these, by Elisabeth Frink, is a sculpture of a barefooted woman dressed entirely in cheap clothes which look like they’ve been stolen straight from the bargain basket in Poundstretcher. She has a haircut that only a particularly deranged bag-lady could like and is poised in a overly cautious stance that suggests she is being approached by hooligans and is just about to be mugged and beaten, which going on Harlow’s track-record, she probably is. Overall she just looks miserable, lost and has the unmistakeable air of a person who is about to sling themselves under the Stansted Express at the first available opportunity. This captures Harlow in a nutshell. 

‘The Water Gardens’, a shopping complex constructed around a God-forsaken water feature that looks suspiciously like a skillfully-crafted sewer run-off.

Biggerland is a truly wondrous place. It is a clothes shop that caters exclusively for people who are unable to refuse that forty-third helping of cake and has a very wide door. The smallest size they do is XL and the biggest is XXXXXXXXL. What the ****? How do you know if you’re an XXXXXXXL or an XXXXXXXXL and would you even bother celebrating if you’d gone down a size..

This post looks at some of the (Link)   Ilivehere posts on more local towns. The change in tone is quite entertaining. There is still lots on unkultured yoofs but a lot more complaints about designer clothes horses and conspicuous consumption. Accusations about in-breeding seem to be universal. 


the Strand Leisure Park in Gillingham, but it’s just a bit of grass with a swimming pool that sits by the side of a disgustingly filthy river, full of the sh–e that’s emptied into it. A Police diver once caught Weils disease and died from swallowing some of the water.

[Some supposedly better off places don't do much better. You just get more moans about designer clothes-horses and  middle class entitlement]. But the core complaints about unkultured yoofs and accusations of in-breeding seem to be universal]. 


By far Tring’s darkest and more sinister underbelly are the militant “Yarn Bombers” when they’re not decorating the town with cute and creative knitted creations they are in running battles with the Town Council, County Council and other Twonky Wonk groups including “Friends of Tring Memorial Garden”.

There are no longer any Banks in Tring, but if you want to have lunch, get a haircut, buy a house or grab a coffee then this is the Town for you, everywhere takes credit cards,your first born or soul so not a problem, 


.....has all the character of a pair of unisex, elasticated waisted, beige slacks whose only design mandate was to be as dull as they possibly could.

I do it a disservice. Surely a town whose local hospital has had to remove hand sanitiser bays due to alcoholics drinking from them must have a bit of life to it?


"A geriatric landfill on the SE Coast of Kent".

Your favourite phrase to hear (In a strong cockney accent) will be “It must be lovely to live by the beach. No. Sand gets everywhere and when we can enjoy the beach in the summer, people like you are here.

Oh the residents, how could we forget the Racist, Unwelcoming, Discriminative and unsavoury Old people, that will look at you like a piece of **** on their shoe.


Hitchin, allegedly one of the happiest places to live in the country. That is, if you’re the sort of person that gains immense pleasure from sitting in a barber shop and admiring one’s self in the mirror. .......elements of the town are populated with the most utterly obnoxious and objectionable people imaginable. The types that are sufficiently smug and horrible that they’d run someone over for daring to cross a road in front of their 4×4, and yet it would still be the victims fault simply for existing. 

High Wycombe

AKA BTEC Slough. The Eden centre is a failed attempt at rejuvenation for the town, as clearly they ran out of money mid project, leaving a shopping centre with no roof. This is as much a good idea as letting Edward scissorshands become a Gynaecologist. 

.....If Slough and Gazza had a love child...


........a town that now has more fake vegans per square metre than any other in the UK. Marlow used to be a friendly, welcoming place to enjoy and relax into but it is now blighted by narcissist residents…… may find yourself in the way of hoards of steely faced runners, yoga mat carrying mid-lifers or coat-wearing dogs all marking their territory on Marlow’s bustling streets.


is very flat and has lots of watercourses. It should flood more than it does, yet it does not. This really is the nicest thing anyone can say about the town.

Bishops Stortford

“more frustrating than a spoon with a hole in it”.


…..was more economically advanced when it was still a forest. If Berkshire needed an enema this is where they would stick the tube.

If you fancy an update, here is a link to their 2023 update on the worst places to live.          Link ILiveHere 2023


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