|
My mate tells me stories about it that are so awful you just have to laugh. He himself is as rough as fuck, but a really good bloke. And funny as fuck, which is probably why I can't stop laughing whenever he describes really awful stuff.
Anyway. There's nowhere around where I live now that's that bad, but there are parts of Plaistow/West Ham where I was brought up that are pretty diabolical at any time of day or night.
|