As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, sorry I mean Holsworthy, but it’s them gangsters messing up my paradise that have got my goat.
I regularly walk through Holsworthy, and my route takes me from the bustling historic Town Square, past the houses that shall no longer be called green, along to our one and only roundabout, scene of many a near miss, through the majestic park gates in to the park that was gifted to the town by Earl Stanhope all of those years ago to be a green and pleasant area for all to enjoy. Ironically this happened when it actually was “all green fields around ere” what a forward thinking chap he was.
So into the park, past the play area for the younger citizens, round the green space for the more sporty among us and the gentleman that play the cricket and bowls, and those joggers that go round and round and round that are cutting down on their pork life. There are benches and bins along the way, many splendid trees and the newly refurbished sports pavilion. I push on, walking along side the new football pitch and down to the skate park where those that seek high octane thrills pull the odd ‘olly’ or something like that. A lovely walk, but something is very wrong!
Every week, maybe twice a week, some arse hat does the same route as me, but insists of throwing the empty glass Budweiser bottles around like fucking confetti, the wanker.
Your time is short, you will be spotted and we shall tut at you under our breath until you grow up and use a fucking bin.
The Holsworthy mafia spoke to the ‘Don’ to get his take on the situation, he had this to say:- “Who’s betty?”.