Mattalogue; Back to the Dark Ages

So a few weeks back our Washing Machine did the dishonourable thing and killed itself right in the middle of washing my favourite shirts. Luckily no one was harmed. Sadly enough, rather than going out like a warrior, in a hail of explosions, blood and bullets, it did the deed a different way. Like a middle class Emo kid whose mother had just refused to buy him a box of his favourite brand of cereal. It simply locked itself and drowned in its own lumpy grey bile.

It was because of this and one other unspoken reason that I decided “fuck it…time to go home”, so I hopped in my time machine, set the dial to 1392 and went to Leigh.

Now, some people don't believe me and my fellow escapees what this genetic cul-de-sac really is like. I've always maintained that if the world were to ever need an enema, Wigan would be the place to insert it. With that in mind, Leigh is the piles of the arse hole of the British Isles. It's so insignificant that it's not even the main subject of a metaphor describing it.

Of course, I don't blame the town, its done well with what it's had (i.e. nothing), constantly robbed of resources and credit by its neighbouring overlords, the pie eaters. We do try though...every so often we're able to gather enough dry wood (mostly stolen from Astley) and construct a giant Wickerman with which to burn a virgin (mostly stolen from Astley) to appease the Gods of the borough council.

Occasionally they give us shiny new benches for our 'parks'. I say 'parks', they're really just Dogging facilities.

It's quite an interesting town, considering there is less facial variation than a PSone game. Which is why I've set 2/6 of my 'project' in this lovely little hovel. After all, where better place for a sociopathic clone and racist Dinosaur to have their first contact with modern day society than this place? Of course, by the time the narrative leaves the town it is some how even worse but that's for another blog post.

I'm spending the next few days in my Grandparents old house, a rather spacious terrace which commands lovely views of the Marsh Playing Field (or as the Wigan town council wanted it to be known, the Marsh Playing Car Park) and the Pataks Curry factory.

Although I complain, I quite enjoy my days in this house, its been in the family for nigh on a hundred years so I always manage to find new and interesting items which have been stowed away in a dusty drawer or plonked precariously on a bookshelf. Before I started Uni I actually found "Fly Fishing by J.R. Hartley". Of course, I realise that reference is probably lost on most people my age, but still. I had a massive fan/nerdgasm.

I'm currently looking out the window and amazed at how nice a day it is, the sun glinting off the corrugated roof of Pataks and ASDA is almost blinding at certain times of day.

As I mentioned earlier, 2 parts of my 'project' (namely, Land/World of the Poisoned Skies and Filling the Void) are set here, which is why I'm planning on spending at least one day wandering the town looking for decent events/places to note down and use. That's the upside of being in this town, never a dull moment.

I should probably leave it at this for now, I can see they've almost finished the legs of the Wickerman. Soon I'll be called up for a raiding party into Astley, better don my horned helmet and box of eggs.