Town that relies on tourists f**king hates tourists

A TOWN whose entire economy relies on the money brought in by tourists absolutely hates them, it has been confirmed.

Despite living or dying by the seasonal trade brought in by tourists and holidaymakers, the people of St Ives loathe out-of-towners with every fibre of their beings and wish they would leave them alone forever.

Local shop owner Tom Logan said: “If it wasn’t for people coming down here and spending their hard-earned cash on my overpriced souvenirs then I’d be unemployed and homeless. But I don’t see why I should be grateful to them.

“You should see the way they arrogantly stay in our hotels, smugly eat in our cafes and generally prop up our financial infrastructure with their generosity. It makes me sick.

“If I were in charge then twats who don’t know our ways would be barred from entry, yet somehow I’d still manage to make a living. A direct debit would probably do the trick.”

Visitor Mary Fisher said: “I had a lovely holiday in St Ives, the spectacular coastal scenery really lived up to my expectations. I’ll never return though because it was full of miserable f**kers who I hope all go under.”

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Service stations, and other shit places that seemed like wonderlands as a kid

THE world is a magical wonderland in the eyes of a child. Even these places you now know to be awful seemed amazing.

Furniture shops

While your parents argued about which couch to get to replace the one mauled by your elderly, incontinent dog, you were free to explore DFS to your heart’s content. An entire warehouse in a Sheffield industrial estate full of sofas for you to jump all over, you were in heaven. Until you were sworn at for the first time by the floor manager.

Service stations

For your father, a service station was a necessary toilet break on the drive to Pontins so he wouldn’t shit himself. For you it was Narnia on the M1, only better because Narnia didn’t have a Little Chef next to a playground covered in broken glass. Plus that faun prick Mr Tumnus was nowhere to be seen.

Garden centres

In adulthood, garden centres are nothing more than a convenient refuge from your imploding marriage. As a kid though your imagination transformed them into prehistoric jungles where a velociraptor could be hiding behind a display pile of compost sacks. Sadly, one never did leap out and eat your parents, no matter how hard you wished.

Pet shops

When you were young, pet shops were essentially zoos where you got to watch rabbits and guinea pigs scamper around for hours on end. Now you’re older you notice all the shit pellets lining their cages, and the whole place feels like a battery farm. Pet shops keep kids entertained for free though, so they’re not all bad.

A giant supermarket

The supermarket was a sensory overload for your tiny brain as you got pushed around aisles of beans and bleach from the comfort of your trolley chair. That’s why you let out unending screeches of joy until your parents bought you some chocolate. As an adult you’re resigned to screaming internally as you pick up a chicken tikka masala ready meal for one.