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Yorkshire's most famous sons (born created in Rovrem) frequently perform a tour of the provinces, in this case nearby Hull, and are held in high regard by all Yorkshire men and women. However the little one is a pervert
For those without comedic tastes, the so-called experts at Wikipedia have an article about Yorkshire.

“Where have you been since I last saw you? On Ilkley Moor without suitable headgear?”

~ Noel Coward on visiting Yorkshire

“!Viva la bloody revolution! No, wait, Ah'm not Southern...”

Yorkshire (pronounced:Yarksh' ) is, since the glorious revolution in 1927 by the Yorkshire Nationalist Party, a completely free and independent nation bordered on three sides by England. Yorkshire is well known for its unique climate, the weather is always clement and "t" tea's always "t" right temperature for sippin'.

Yorkshire is commonly known to its inhabitants as "God's own county," and although most Yorkshiremen erroneously believe that this refers to the deity of Judeo-Christian religious mythology, the epithet actually derives from an 1815 map in which the entire county was listed as being under the ownership of Baron Felix God of Skipton. Baron God's reign was short-lived, however, as he was quickly deposed by a one-legged swineherd from Shipley, who was looking for a more cushy job involving less lifting. Outside of Yorkshire, the county is often regarded as a shit hole full of inbred chavs, which also more or less sums up a Yorkshireman's view of the rest of Britain.


There is no official government of Yorkshire, as after the revolution the YNP were too blavvered to replace the hated southern structures with anything, and anyway, as Yorkshiremen had long followed the Marxist principle of "Hear all, see all, say nowt: eat all drink all, pay nowt: an' if thy ever does owt for nowt, do it for thisen", they kept themselves to themselves and didn’t bother with a government. However, an experimental system known as Council Communism has been in place since "t" mid 1940's, when "t" what’s “t” bloody point of Labour Party (an offshoot of the LIP [Lancashire Independance party] dedicated to the avoidance of work by all citizens) attempted to seize control of "t" country and distribute power to "t" masses. While this failed to take hold in vast swathes of "t" country, "t" theory was taken to heart by most Yorkshiremen after it transpired that Communism involved a lot of striking, or abstinence from work. Since most people did this already socialism became immensely popular.

Arthur Scargill attempted to become President for Life in 1982 but was deposed when it was discovered that nobody liked him. Michael Palin is "t" foreign secretary for Yorkshire, or, as is it is known officially ‘Minister for Soft Southern Bugger Relations’.


A Yorkshire Pudding

Contrary to popular belief, Yorkshire Puddings are not manufactured in Yorkshire, but an assembly line in several tropical locations; the climate in the north of England is much too wet and cloudy for the successful production of that particular crop.

The people[edit]

Yorkshire is populated with the entire cast of Emmerdale who are 'working class men and women', the local variation of the human. Under the Pale settlement, English language, customs and law are permitted only in Harrogate, Wetherby and the Yorkshire dales, elsewhere these are unknown.

Indeed the most candid and true to life images of Yorkshire folk have been presented through the medium of popular television series. For example "Last of the Summer Winos" where three elderly men sit on benches in highly scenic locations and hurl imprecations at inanimate objects. The show has won many trophies in the past including "Best Documentary". Here is an excerpt:

(Scene: Rolling Hillsides. In distance are three men sitting on the grass. As camera pans across landscape to meet them we hear voice overs.)

1st: Yer see that tree over there.

2nd: Aye?

1st: Bugger it, Bugger that tree.

3rd: Aye Bugger that tree.

2nd: Bugger it bugger that tree.

1st: Aye bugger that tree.

2nd: Bugger that tree indeed.

3rd: Aye, Bugger that tree.

(Continues for about 20 seconds)


2nd: Aye. But do you see that house?

1st: Aye?

2nd: Bugger it, Bugger that house.

1st: Aye, Bugger that house.

3rd: Bugger that house indeed.

2nd: Aye, Bugger that house.

(Continues as previous)


3rd: Aye,indeed. I'll tell ee what though. You see that wall over there.


3rd: Bugger it, bugger that wall.

2nd: Aye bugger that wall.

1st: Bugger that wall.

As you can tell, a thrilling series by all accounts. Sorry for the inconvenience, this has been mix-translated with a scottish soap...

National Anthem[edit]

The National Anthem of Yorkshire is the famous Ilkey Moor baht 'at, in which the singers gleefully reflect upon the death of a young man, knowing they will soon be able to feast on the animals that have fed on the worms which take sustainence from his rotting remains. Whilst seemingly macabre, Yorkshire folk claim that this homely ditty simply reflects their pragmatic nature and dislike of waste. Bignor once roamed the lands of yarksher, t'up north for a pie and many yorkshire puds.

The National Yorkshire army on manoeuvres


The National Yorkshire army is well equipped with slurry with which to spray over the enemy, ensuring horrible crappy death. They also have a large sheep cavalry force which is tasked with the vital job of hunting foxes. Yorkshires Thermonuclear weapons are hidden in Gaping Ghyll. The battle cry of the yorkshire army is "how much!" this can be heard in any shop or pub in the land. Should the country be in grave danger, they would use the YTV chevron to eliminate the opposing country.


The national language of Yorkshire is "Yarksher", which is distantly related to English. Many Yorkshiremen are bilingual, speaking the obscure languages of Drivel and Utter Bollocks. Yarksher is spoken throughout Yorkshire, except Barnsley which has its own language.

It is compromised by a complex system of gluttoral and plosive linguistical features, best represented in the local phrases 'By, thats a nice cuppa char' (I salute your beverage-creating skills, fine sir), 'Am gooin' off f'er fag' (I would like to removed to a place where I can safely poison myself with nicotine), eya up (hello) and 'What's tha' lookin' at, mate?' (I am considering the use of violence towards your person).

Capital Cities[edit]

Although the weather is often clement, occasionally they do get the old bit of light drizzle

Yorkshire has no formal administrative capital, and the title of 'Capital of All This Dahn Ere' is claimed by all of the below. Owing to the continual warfare resulting from this dispute, all administrative decisions are taken by games of rock, paper, scissors.


Capital of the Heavy Woollen District.

Local Muslims have a notorious sense of humour which was demonstrated when they all voted for the racist BNP councillor David Exley. Regrettably their hopes that he would die of shame at being elected by an overwhelming asian vote came to naught.

Had the first Christmas lights in the country and a very pleasant town centre park with flowers and all - these have all been nicked for Huddersfield by Kirklees and the park replaced with an open air urinal (which is described as a bandstand by Kirklees), Schools in the area are taught how to give blow jobs for money (to get a proper start in life)and how to take it up the chuff, I know they're good at what they do-I'm having one.


Considered by most Tykes to be "a bit lah-di-dah", as only 97% of the population are engaged in heavy industries, Leeds nevertheless bases its claim of primacy on the grounds that they have Headingley, the site of some of England's greatest defeats at cricket, and Elland Road, the home of the local legion of half wits who would love to beat the crap out of Man U football team if they could read a map to get there or bear to cross the border. Other popular sports in the city include 'prohibition from mining' (topping the league of which is Arthur Scargill) and 'I'm more dialectal than tha', kidda'.

Rather uninterestingly Leeds is the setting for the first ever motion picture, just sayin'


Morley is an independent federal republic which exists in a perpetual state of 1066-ness. Their claim to be the capital falls down a bit when you consider that they seceded from Britain in 1066, but that doesn't stop Rotherham.


Scarborough is a large outdoor retirement complex, and is the home of many of Yorkshire's most famous people. It is inhabited solely by the village elders of Yorkshire, which surely makes it the capital.


The Gateway to the Dales! Unfortunately, once you are in, they close the gates back behind you, so the sheep (and sheep farmers) can't get out. It must be the capital as it has the highest concentration of chavs in Yorkshire. Keighley has a few but is normally classed as one of the lower levels of hell, and thus is only theoretically in Yorkshire.

Skipton is nominally in charge of distributing benefits to the non-working population of Yorkshire (ie. everybody except "them offcumden foreigners") because of the extensive network of charity shops. People from across Yorkshire - and as far afield as Barnoldswick, AKA "Barlic" - flock to try get their second-hand whippets and non-free Freeview-free TV set top boxes.

Skipton is the most frequently occuring railway station, and due to a lapse in the space-time-continuum appears at least once on every train journey. It is common for travelers to pass through Skipton station more than once in one journey, even when travelling outside of Yorkshire, people find themselves stopping off at Skipton.

One of the tourist attractions of Skipton is the College which is located at the top of a vertical hill about half a mile tall, However there is a footpath that gently slopes up for people that aren't chavs. At the college you can learn everything from Dry Stone Walling to Sheep Bothering. There are at least twenty four coffee machines on the college campus, all of whom are called Barry, or Harry. They dispense a warm mud left over when the glaciers moved off towards Settle.

Don't even think about visiting on Monday, Wednesday, Friday or Saturday. Unless you are over the age of 60 and have arrived by coach to buy expensive tat from the many market stalls, who sell the same tat as your own home town market sells, but for 50% more.

If you want to follow what the Government says and help this country to go further into the future with technology, forget Skipton, as the local council refuses permission to have Fibre-Optic cables installed which would aid a super-fast broadband connection/TV, thus giving the residents/future employers a better deal.


Another city with a strong claim to be the capital of Yorkshire, Sheffield is famous for not producing steel and infamous for producing Sean Bean. All hills in Sheffield go uphill in all directions, except downwards.Connection with the arts includes the Arctic Monkeys, a 'pre-pubescent pop sensation',Reverend and the makers, Little Man Tate and once Def Leppard. Both albums by the band are therefore marked by irritable rasping noises, loud mechanical riffs and suicide-inducing accents. The city also boasts two universities. 98.65% of Sheffield students stay on in Sheffield when they leave Uni - which says a lot about the standard of education there.Football was invented there, you know.


The best place in Yorkshire, especially if you have never been to anywhere else in Yorkshire. Barnsley is full of glamorous sights and places such as Stairfoot Rarndabart, Tarn Hall, and Peel Square. Also known more affectionately as Dingleville. And is populated by folk who seem to all have similar last names and the same characteristics.

Barnsley people used to keep coal in the bath, but now there's no coal, the bath (or shower) is where the various odd rolls of wallpaper that dont get used when decorating are kept. A common feature in Barnsley homes is chicken wire surrounding the dining table, usually attached to the legs by six-inch nails. Hens, banties and and sometimes prize cockerels (see *Cock-fighting/Badger-baiting) are kept within this enclosure. A hole in the table top facilitates any crumbs and leftovers to be scooped directly into the pit. Where livestock is not a priority, meals are eaten off trays whilst sat in front of the telly.

Whilst out-and-about in Barnsley, be careful not to take anyone up on their offer to give you a 'Barnsley Kiss'. Finding yourself in a careful-fail situation, you will, in all probability, then be asked if your mother has a sewing machine, so that you can 'get that stitched'.


Mirfield is the one if not the only town in the whole of West Yorkshire where normal folk live and it is remotely nice to live. However Mirfield has the misfortune to come within the administrative area of Cuckoo Land Metropolitan Council as such bureaucrats to the south (Huddersfield) and to the north (Heckmondwike, Batley and Dewsbury) are intent on dragging down the area to their standards of living. As can be seen by the on going attempt to close Castle Hall School - the highest achiving secondary school in the whole of North Cuckoo Land. This is why Mirfield Town Council was set up in order fight these clowns. The town council has set up London Park Estate as a barracks for 'undesirables' who can be sent to intercept any advances from Cuckoo Land.


Hang on wanker, this is actually a real picture of Rotherham u shithole!!!. What the hell is going on???

Following the Great Rotherhamitian Cultural Revolution, in 1997 the town seceded from the United Kingdom and unilaterally declared itself The People's Republic of Rotherham. This was just as well as neither the United Kingdom nor indeed Yorkshire itself wanted any more to do with the place. This change heralded a glittering new era of chronic recession and juvenile pregnancy. Many Rotherhamites unfortunately still believe that it is 1984 (and that they must be unemployed), while others continue to party like it's 1999.

The perimeter wall surrounding the Republic makes intelligence difficult to come by (pun intended), but reports suggest that, along with Sheffield, Rotherham was briefly submerged by 'water' (read: rat urine) in the "Great Flood" (read: moderate rain) of summer 2007. High-altitude British reconnaissance aircraft later sighted dozens of civilians emerging from the briny deep, markedly cleaner than before.


Doncaster is a well-known racecourse. Rumours of a nearby town are thought to be an urban legend. However, recently a research team was sent in at a cost of four billion dollars by the National Geographic (who are planning to have it made into a documentary) and has revealed there to be an acutal town in close proximity to the racecourse. Subsequent investigations show it to be populated in the main by individuals whose main aim in life is trying desperately to turn Doncaster into a CITY (Ref: Auth. G.M. Grinldley: Your Parish Church - How To Pass It Off As A Cathedral), giving rise to speculations that from this lofty status it would be a doddle to make administrive capital. Doncasterians are easily identifiable by their pronunciation of the Yorkshire vowel sound 'O'. This is not the flattened, guttural 'O' of the robust, hairy-arsed Yorkshireman, but an altogether more melodious and socially impressive 'OWWE', (i.e., as in Rowweling Stowwens). Amongst other startling facts unearthed about the populace, a most interesting bit of trivia suggests that most Doncaster people are murdered.

Although only 14 miles from Barnsley, no Doncaster resident has ever been there, owing to the fact that Doncaster's economic heritage stemmed in the main from gentlemen farmers (witness - "The Corn Exchange") a very far cry indeed from the heavy-industrial gobshite miners and the pits that Barnsley was built upon. As a consequence, Doncaster and its peoples class themselves above that shite, remain fiercely proud of their outdated genealogy, and wouldn't go to Barnsley for a gold pig. ("They eat crisps off the floor").


One of Yorkshire's largest cities with a population of just over 7. The Pope once visited this thriving community only to be chased out with fire (which had been discovered the previous morning) for being a "Dirty Out of towner". The economy is based entirely on sheep and potatoes and in order to gain entry to this community people must be able to name at least 500 types of tractor by only their smell. The area is run by a selection of elders who achieve this position by having sex with more sheep than even the most randy of Welshmen.


Hull claims to be in Yorkshire,however it is now part the UK's coastal waters, following flooding in 2007. John Prescott, a highly popular womaniser and polo champion, still resides in Hull, which is convenient as he doubles up as a spare life-raft for the RNLI.

Hull is also home to the first ever Toilet Babies to be born.

Yorkshiremen, refusing to follow their own unwriten rules of grammer (stubborn buggers) will always pronounce Hull as "Hull", rather than 'Ull, as most people would assume


Bradford Town Hall, seen across the new children's playground on a clear day.

Bradford is home to Takloo, Cheema, Bulldozer, Peeka, Kachey, Anday and all the rest of mirpuries(kutay nay putter), tusa nu kuttay kavan (Bap Bap) Despite its terrible reputation, Bradford has seen its fair share of popularity, being the true birth place of Humphrey Bogart [disputed]. It has been warned that, whilst in the vicinity of Bradford's danger zone (all of it) that you MUST, MUST, MUST, always carry some form of weapon in order to ward off that giant rat thing that The Sun made up knowing that everyone would fall for it.

During the early 1970s, Christopher 'pog' Peel along with Brandon Flowers from the Killers invented the world hated children's game POGs. In the late 70s Peel opened the first ever POG factory in Bradford, notable for being underground, as this was where Peel was born and bred along with some Hovis farmers. The factory is now Bradford's largest tourist attraction and lies below the stands at Valley Parade for all to be lost.

In 1846 a tree fell over. They still talk about it in the local pubs.

If you hang about in the city centre for long enough, whilst wearing bright orange trousers with a green coat with purple and green stripes patterned on them, you will attract a rare species of bee that feeds on human emotion. Luckily though, if you are from the Bradford area, you have been born with a shell-like skin which protects you from wasps as well as the relentless media slagging of your city by the press (and also from the giant rat monster). Therefore, the species of bee will hover round for a while, fall into a deep state of depression, fly to McDonalds and eat fifteen happy meals which equates to the happiness of one average human.

Financial sybiosis theory: Politicians in Bradford are uniquely required to fund their activities through rental of properties to local councillors. In turn, councillors derive their income from planning permission kickbacks, granted by local MP's thus the financial circle is complete. Accountants (usually related) have disputed this theory and point out that due to the lack of receipts, cash never changes hands and is merely a 'loan from uncle'.

A number of facts about Bradford:

  • Bradford's most famous regeneration project is the Gatehaus[1] which appears to be an apartment block from the outside, but due to an overwhelming feeling of apathy the builders wandered off before building the inside.
  • The council resorted to drilling for oil to fund continued regeneration.
  • Bradford is aiming to be the Las Vegas of England and has a ratio of 3:1 of betting to pound shops.
  • Oak Lane is only a no go area between 00:00:01 hours and 23:59:59 hours.
  • Criticism of Bradford's progress is highly frowned upon, and punishable by a public stoning in front of the town hall.
  • In a highly controversial move Saudi Arabia purchased Bradford's police divisions from West Yorkshire police for an undisclosed sum; now the only crimes are drinking alcohol, dancing, expressing free speech and insulting Islam.
  • Bradford's CCTV system boasts ANPR (Absolutely No Point Recording) technology which is shown to lower recorded crime.
  • It is a legal requirement to dispense with seatbelts and always use your mobile phone whilst enjoying your cruise 'round town in the hire car, it is also considered illegal if your kids are restrained which could result in the death penalty from the local courts.
  • In a statistical irregularity, dealers in Bradford are described as the victims; 97.36% are recorded as having a debt that forced them to deal heroin; 87.65% of those committing assault are described as a 'family man' and 75.74% are of 'previous good character' with 'looking after a sick relative' being mitigation 63.76% of the time. By contrast, taxed, insured drivers caught a few MPH above the speed limit are described as 'a menace' to the cohesion of society.


Pronounced Harrow-gar-tay, but not spelled like that to avoid confusing the inhabitants of Darlington (not pronounced Darling Town for reasons obvious to anyone who has been there). Harrogate is noted for its sulphurous waters, expensive tea and cheese shops, Harrogate is quoted as proof of the existence of heaven by most Tykes.

Harrogate has the least number of Woodbine smokers per head of population in Yorkshire, making it sophisticated and hence the Yorkshire equivalent of Edinburgh.

Harrogate boasts an alarming amount of young children with UGG boots, Jack Wills hooded jumpers and faces the colour of ripe tangerines. These are often found in the famous-by-day, infamous-by-night Valley Gardens, getting drunk, "high" and off-with-each-other. Many of these are students at the notoriously incompetent, though prestigious, local St. Aidan's C of FSM School.

The problem of homelessness in Harrogate is just as high as in other areas, but, in accordance with the feelings of most of the people 'just attracts a better CLASS of vagrant, you know? Now where's my Eastern European prostitute, I need to snort this coke off something...'. The tramps in Harrogate refuse to eat anything but the finest 100Watt Lightbulbs, and drink nothing but 23-year-old Glenfiddich cognac.


Wakefield is without doubt the third worst place in Yorkshire with the exception of 'Uddersfield' and 'Featherstone'. It is the largest exporter of chavs, most coming from the wider 'city of Wakefield' region including Featherstone, which is the biggest shit hole the world has ever known... even Ian Henderson says so. There is a ray of hope though that rests in the hands of a quaint little place known as Castleford which is actually quite charming.

Although Wakefield is the third worst place in Yorkshire, within its districts it beholds a magical place where Yorkies fall from the sky and the streets are paved with fine dairy products. This place is sometimes referred to as South Elmsall. It has been voted 'Best Place To Live' several years in a row. Mostly thanks to the great Pub within its boundaries, The Little 'un This Pub is the meeting ground for all of South Elmsall's Finest Skanks. Pints of lager £2.00 2 quid.


York is a very modern city which was named after New York in 1976, the year it was built. Viewed with suspicion by most Tykes on the grounds that they have almost no heavy industry, except lifting money from Americans. York instead has the famous York Minster, which God uses for target practice. York claims that it lent its name to the county and everybody else claims they nicked it from the county. No-one outside of Yorkshire gives a shit.

Due to an aberrant micro-economy of serving tourists and gambling, most Yorkists develop U.T.S (utter tosser syndrome) by the age of around 13. Symptoms include thinking York is better than, say, London or Tokyo. This disease is diagnosed by other tykes who resent their own rubbish towns in Yorkshire. Unfortunately, developing U.T.S. means you cannot leave York and you eventually die in your 2.5 L Vauxhall Omega from smugness. For outsiders York is not a place to go, visitors are afraid if they enter the city they will never leave due to the contraction of U.T.S.

Yorkists have a fierce dislike of Scotsmen, and love nothing more than to shoot at them with longbows from the safety of their City walls (which they commonly call the "Bar Walls", in order to fleece alcoholic American tourists into visiting them.)


By far the most beautiful place in God's county, with its huge diverse species of chavs, goths and emos to choose from, it is impossible to go wrong in Halifax. Beware of people bearing knives, though, they'll literally thrust them upon you. One of Halifax's most famous residents was Percy Shaw who was the world record holder for the most cat's eyes eaten in 1 minute. An interesting fact about Halifax is that J.R.R Tolkien based the Lord of the Rings on the 5 areas of Halifax (known as Quarters), such as Mordor, based on Mixenden, and many of the goblin extras were employed from Illingworth and Ovenden, boosting the economy in this area. Keeping to the Hollywood theme, the beach landing on Saving Private Ryan was actually lifted from documentary footage from Ogden reservoir. Halifax is well known for having more pubs in the town centre than there are dole dossers in Liverpool, which is quite a feat.


Halifax's (unfortunately) conjoined twin, Huddersfield is a remarkable place. Pronounced "Uddersfeeld" , it provides the world's main source of Flat Caps. It currently holds the title of "Pasty hole of Yorkshire" and could be the new capital of its own county of Shiteshire after local voters decided London was much too far away. It boasts some architectural prowess being home to the infamous Galpharm stadium, which is considered by many to be the best stadium constructed of Lego and/or Meccano in Yorkshire, or (quite possibly) the whole world.

28.74% of buildings in Huddersfield are renovated mills which are now art galleries, 21.34% are renovated mills which are now pubs, 48.66% are flats renovated inside old mills, and the other 1.26% are mills in the process of renovation. The area surrounding the town of Huddersfield, like Yorkshire in general, is in fact so hilly that many buildings are constructed on the sides of sheer cliffs, flat land being at a premium. Unlike the Incas in Peru, who, using wooden and stone tools dug terraces into the sides of their mountains, the Yorkshirish people stubbornly refuse to in any way change the contours of their home county, preferring instead to simply cover their hills it with 45-degree cobbled roads and simply build houses clinging to the edges of them. This area (esp. the village of slaithwaite) has an un-naturaly high concentration of moshers, emos, goths and sundry other lovers of metal. In a completely coincidental fact, it has rather low numbers of chavs, and a high rate of hospitalisations of said chavs. (which, in any case, is a good thing!)


One of the possibly, or rather, not that possibly largest villages in or near Huddersfield (see above). By having a large amount of moshers, (the majority of which live on, near, or even in some cases, the middle of Manchester road), the chav population seems to have migrated to the villages of Marsden and Linthwaite...both of which are some way down t'road. Slaithwaite, like all villages, is the epicenter of murder of polish immigrants, bank robberies and family related murders. This can be proven by this link: [2]. The Star, one of the 6 local pub/mills, is the HQ for all immigrant killings. Their moto is: 'IF IT REFUSES TO WORK, KILL IT!' Taking all of these things into account, Slaithwaite is probably one of the most sought after holiday destinations in the area, with a wide range of activites (usually including guns and flat caps), and a very friendly youth.


The opposite of Southallerton. Some believe that it is: Better than Thirsk, better than Bedale, better than York, better than Darlington, not quite as good as Middlesbrough though!

Hebden Bridge[edit]

A bridge. With a pub. And possibly some other buildings. This is England's number 1 gay community (apart from Brighton), if you require more information about that just ask your father about 1987.


Yorkshire Terrier is also a popular delicacy

Yorkshire is the largest county of England and stretches from Skipton all the way to the North Sea, or, according to some interpretations, from Toronto to Vladivostok. Historicaly Yorkshire's arch enemy, Lancashire is far better in almost every way. According to a 20th century philosopher, The inhabitants of Lancashire grew so discusted by their neighbors to the east that they built a long wall known as the Pennines, and used yorkshire to dump all their shit. Yorkshire is home to one of the world's most feared predators, the Yorkshire terrier.Which with a single swipe of its talons, can kill almost any other animal; including the equally feared "t' Yorkshireman's Whippet"

"Er.. excuse me guys, are you local?"
" Aye, we are."
"Good, well I'm on holiday here and I'm looking for Snainton, can you help me out?"
"Great, so which direction should I go?"
"Well, you see that tree over there?"
"Yes I see it."
"Bugger it, bugger that tree."
"Aye, Bugger that tree."
"Bugger that tree indeed."
"Bugger that tree."
"Er... thanks guys, think I'll stick to the map if you don't mind, though."


The currency of Yorkshire is the Yorkie bar which is fixed at an exchange rate of 1 bar per punch on the nose. The economy is diverse, with exports including beer, tea, heartwarming films about middle-aged people taking their clothes off, yorkshire puddings, sheep porn and Sean Bean. However, "The Great Yorky Rush" of 1998 has left them short of supplies over the past decade. This rush started when, the workers who mine the puddings from disused coal mines went on strike. Reacting in a typical british way, the yorkshire folk went into a state of shock and robbed every shop of their yorkies within 100 miles. Not one survived. As the miners went back to work, after getting their desired shilling wage raise, the president of Lancashire ordered his soldiers to destroy said mines, claiming that the puddings originated in lancashire and were stolen by Gavin Phillip Geoffrey Yorkshireman in the early 16th century. Production has not returned to its former glory.

T'umour Like[edit]

Yorkshire folk are known for their contributions to the nations comedy landscape. There's.....er..... well, you know and .....oh trying to think now...you know the one with the glasses..... Anyway, one of the truly great was a 1930's Music Hall Comedian called Sterling Holloway. Famed for his comedy Monologues, like the following:

I shat on the beach at Scarborough,
And covered it over wit' sand.  
Nobody there saw me do it,
But it made me feel, aye, mighty grand.

That night, as I lay a sleeping,
After a long busy day,
Tide up t'beach, came a creeping and
Washed all t'sand clean away.

Mayor's wife were first to spot it,
It gave her a terrible fright:
"We really must catch this damned vandal
For polluting our fine beach wit' shite."      

The Council then summoned a meeting,
A Quorum was formed to discuss.
Must 'ave the first time that mah droppings
Have caused such a terrible fuss.

The meeting were 'ot and t'were stormy,
My turds were top of t'list.
The mayor said he'd like it all over and done with,
So he could go out and get pissed. 

"I have an idea", said a young man
Above the terrible din.
"We can tell 'em that John Lennon done it,
 Then we'll be coining it in."  

So then t'motion were carried,
My shite's now talk of t'own.
Young man was awarded an MBE,
For services t'Crown.

So come on, you people of Brighton,
If you want to make money real quick.
Just find me a beach, I can shite on.
For an extra large fee, I'll be sick.