A small club from Kirklees surrounded by larger, more successful clubs like Bradford, Leeds and Halifax. Thought they were the dogs bollox (pun not intended) when they spent two years being whipping boys in the Premier League. Unfortunately, most of the glory boys have buggered off and now all you hear is singing about the afore mentioned bigger clubs in their sparsely populated ground and they watch the out of towners kick the bag of wind into their goal several times a game.
"Fookin ell Huddersfield Town really are shit aren't they? Time to start singing about the Bratfud bottlers and L666ds imploding again, OOOOERRR to be a Terrier!"
"Nah Relax mate, let's just go find some cocker spaniel porn and rub one out."
38đź‘Ť 4đź‘Ž
(verb) To appear at a number of different parties or venues during a given a night. To travel from party to party throughout a neighborhood or city.
First I'm going to start drinking at Kristy's place. Then I'm going to head to the house party on Wilford. I think I'll probably end up at Mike's party too. I'm going to paint the town!
128đź‘Ť 16đź‘Ž
The ghettolicious 'hoods of milwaukee .
Glenn "Big Dog" Robinson went from G.I. 2 da Mil-town 2 Hotlanta 2 Philly.
514đź‘Ť 72đź‘Ž
The girl that everyone has had sex with, the analogy is the town bike that everyone gets a ride from.
481đź‘Ť 70đź‘Ž
A cool school with so much cool stuff. Surprising it's in the terror town of Yishun.
Tom: Hey dude! I got 255 for my PSLE. What school should I go?
Rex: Yishun Town dude!
Tom: But it's in Yishun!
Rex: then go die
23đź‘Ť 1đź‘Ž
In the author’s note, John writes about how paper towns were not real places, but names of places on maps, “…created to protect against copyright infringement,” (p. 307). It’s the thought of creating something that other people want to make real, which resembles Margo so well. As she said, “It’s great being an idea that everybody likes. But I could never be the idea to myself, not all the way. And Algoe is a place where paper creation became real… I thought the paper cutout of a girl could become real here also,” (p. 294). Maybe life is not about belonging to anything or anyone. Maybe it’s not about being anything at all. Maybe it’s just about being one’s own Margo.
…All the houses that were built to fall apart… All the things paper-thin and paper frail
From a distance… You can’t see the rust or the weeds or the paint cracking. You see the place as someone once imagined it
“You will go to the Paper Towns.
And you will never come back.”
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