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For the religious among us who choose to believe lies, the "questionable parody" of this website called Wikipedia have an article very remotely related to Hoddesdon.
Contour Lines for Hoddesdon
Hoddesdon is so bad that an earlier version of this article was huffed to prevent anyone from accidentally reading it and suffering a brain implosion.
This new version is heavily censored for the protection of the general reader. Anything that does not appear to make sense should be checked for big black patches over words or, indeed, entire aspects of reality.

Hoddesdon is a town in Hertfordshire and is, by a cosmic accident, the actual arsehole of the entire Universe. The widespread belief that this distinction applies to Chatham or to Swindon is in fact an error.

An examination of the full 11-dimensional space surrounding Hoddesdon shows that all the dimensions have a simultaneous curvature ending in a singularity in the region of Amwell St., not far from the Clock Tower. This is the first experimental demonstration of the correctness of the two-dimensional sheet form of String Theory, now known as Bog Roll Theory. It was arrived at by a physicist who suddenly realised that a bog roll does, in fact consist of a two dimensional surface existing in a third dimension in which it is curled up very small. (He then cried "Eureka", rushed from the bathroom and announced his discovery at the nearest Slug and Lettuce. The case comes up before Oxford magistrates next week.)


Foundation Myth[edit]

The myth of the Foundation of Hoddesdon and Hertford tells that over two thousand years ago Queen Sharon of the Iceni came South to Hertfordshire and was promptly raped by The great King Kev. In due course she gave birth to two boys, Wayne and Dwayne, who were put up for adoption by the Council. In the fullness of time Wayne grew up to be a plumber who could actually make a joint that didn't immediately leak, became immensely rich, and founded Hertford as a nice little gaff to provide homes for all his girlfriends and their progeny. Dwayne applied himself to study and in the fullness of time became an estate agent and property developer. He too became immensely rich. God was so angered by this betrayal of the divine justice that he caused Hoddesdon to come into being around Dwayne. The warping of time and space this caused resulted in the appearance of the Universal Arsehole and Dwayne's spiralling towards it. Quantum effects on the event horizon caused the spontaneous creation of a real Dwayne and an anti-Dwayne. The real Dwayne disappeared into the event horizon while the anti-Dwayne spun out into our universe, ultimately giving rise to Foxtons. This is the origin of the occasional admission by estate agents that "there is a bit of a problem with the Dwaynes".

Royal Charter[edit]

Hoddesdon was incorporated as a city by Royal Charter in the 19th. Century. Unfortunately the king in question was Mad King Ludwig of Bavaria, and it had to be hushed up. The only remaining evidence of this episode in Hoddesdon's history is the Wagnerdenkmal in Marktplatz, where the local BNP members gather on a Saturday night to throw bottles.


Hoddesdon is currently twinned with Catford, Wormwood Scrubs, and Dagenham. The inhabitants refuse to believe that Europe exists, and nowhere in Florida will twin with them for fear it might be catching.

Proof of the essential correctness of this article[edit]

The arsehole of the entire Universe

Other towns have some distinction of architecture, of citizens, perhaps a river or a mountain. Hoddesdon has so little of distinction that this is the best the town website can come up with

Why bother making this kind of thing up when real life has so much to offer? The only town in the country where the centre of attention in the photo is a traffic light sign. (But see the note above about heavy censorship. Perhaps this picture is a replacement for the original, which reflects a truth too horrible to contemplate. The truth is out there, but it is also in here. Oh God, I'm beginning to sound French.)

Official note[edit]

The author of this page is now under heavy sedation. Please do not huff it again, we had enough trouble getting him off the MDMA after the last time. What provokes him to do it? Why does he have this urge to write about a place which, when all is said and done, is only the birthplace of the National Front, a manky bit of the original A10 now safely bypassed by a road which runs in a ditch so you cannot see Hoddesdon? It all began, as these things do, with seeing an albatross and having a new Burley & Stronginthearm crossbow under test. Don't close the browser and bugger off to that wedding, young man, let me tell you what happened next. The rats! The cockroaches! It's no coincidence that Tescos was founded just down the road from Hoddesdon, I tell you.