“Oldham? There better be some big-ass fee involved if you want me to say I f**kin Love Oldham!”
“I kick some little kid to death and I get cautioned for it. What kind of a pussy-ass town is this?! ”
Oldham is a
village cesspit pit of hell in East Lancashire, situated between a rock and a hard place. Many attempts have been made to get rid of Oldham completely, but hints such as changing the county borders to disown parts of it have fallen on deaf ignorant plain stupid ears. The primary industry of Oldham is village idiocy, whilst the predominant sport enjoyed is gypsy-baiting.
The village is renowned for its greenery and lack of concrete, with a fine spring display of tulips, daffodils and small friendly pixies.
Upon arrival, the visitor will be surprised by the lack of pubs, betting shops and off-licences, all of which were banned in 1066 by William the Conqueror who upon witnessing Oldham's green and verdant surroundings swore that it would never be compromised by man's frailties and sins.
The village is also noted for its racial tolerance. Many years ago, whilst the rest of the Western World was embroiled in race riots and segregation issues, the Oldham locals invited those of other religions, races and creeds with open arms. Now Caucasian, Asian, lesbian and paedophile live alongside each other in perfect harmony. To celebrate its success in this area, the town organizes a parade every Saturday night, where 20 carefully selected Asians and Africans walk smilingly down the High Street while cheered and applauded by their Caucasian brothers.
The toponymy of Oldham (pronounced /@[email protected]##!/) seems to originate, imaginatively enough, from the Saxon word for "village", although it could be a derivative of Aldehulme; an Old Norse name meaning "Get the horses; we're off". However, modern research favours the explanation that the name is derived from the modern English "Old homo", which is what the village is full of. The name is understood to date from somewhere between 865 and 1977.
Despite the possibility of many obvious jokes and word-play, Oldham is in no way related to a piece of ageing pig-meat. The reason for this is very simple: anything whatsoever left lying around (or locked away) is almost instantaneously
removed nicked by vultures/scavengers a member of the general populace and as such, any luxury, for example food grub, would never have the chance to become rotten mingin'.
The earliest known evidence of human presence in what is now Oldham is attested by the discovery of several rusty cans of Stella Artois found at Werneth and Besom Hill, implying habitation somewhere around 7 to 10 years ago. Evidence of Roman and Celtic activity is also confirmed by the discovery of a packet of dried pasta and a can of Tennant's lager.
From its founding until the Industrial Revolution, Oldham is believed to have been little more than a scattered box of cheerios spread across the moorland and dirt tracks which linked Madchester to somewhere else. Although not mentioned in the Domesday Book, Oldham is mentioned in the Da Vinci Code and Harry Potter III, the Revenge of the Syph, invariably recorded as a territory under the control of porn barons and drugs mules.
Once represented by a wise owl, the logo of Oldham has recently been replaced by a polo mint at a perfectly reasonable cost of £100,000. According to officials, this is because "the owl is well old now and it's time we got a fresh new symbol, so we got a mint instead, right."
The RSPB, however, have confirmed that the move came after the threat of prosecution: "That poor bird has been forced to remain in that stinking hovel for far too long," a spokesman said, "despite the facts pointing to its desire to get far, far away. Recently, a great number of bins, school children's uniforms and even buildings [sporting the symbol] have been spotted trying to fly away, so we were obliged to step in."
To an outsider, it may seem that Oldham has a culturally diverse populace, consisting of various ethnicities, religions and social backgrounds. This is actually
completely false total twaddle. In reality, Oldham is divided into two very distinct groups and any newcomer will fall almost immediately into one or the other:
- Poor sods - This group consists of the people that were either born in Oldham or moved there under some false impression that it was a good idea and have, at some point, realised what a hideous mistake it is to still be there. Unfortunately for them, they seem unable to break away from the layers of mucus, used needles and general slime that are the foundations of this glorious town. Such reasons as "I can't afford to move", "I can't just quit my job" or "my family all live here" are often cited, but are in fact lies; the only reason is that once Oldham has you in its slimy jaws, you'll never leave.
- Ruddy morons - This bunch are far harder to comprehend than the first group, because it would seem that despite the overpowering number of scallies, druggies, under-age pregnancies, yobs and other socially challenged people, the 'ruddy morons' actually want to remain in Oldham. At this point, no reasonable explanation is known or can be given.
The average age for an Oldham woman to get pregnant knocked-up is eleven years old. This is after much effort on the part of the council to raise the age from ten. They are apparently happy with their work. For many years, Oldham was recognised as having the highest teenage pregnancy in the
UK world universe, but this honour was recently passed on. Unknown to many, this is because the council stepped in and bribed the statistics team with money that could have been spent on other useful projects, such as the £600,000 23 foot-tall, malfunctioning sculpture piece of junk of a fountain on the town's high street.
Although stepped over and sneered at like an unwanted child by the industrial revolution, Oldham developed an extensive fudge mining sector, dedicated to supporting the local community whose lives upto then had been solely dedicated to village idiocy and the manufacture of fake Scottish ginger wigs. The Oldham fudgefields stretched from Royton in the north to Bardsley in the south and in addition to Oldham, included the towns of Middleton, Chadderton and Burkina Faso. The Oldham Fudgefield was the site of over 150 collieries during its recorded history, and created a whole range of jobs, including packers, delvers and tasters. The Oldham weekend Fudge tasting festival even created something of a small tourist trade, especially popular with the Japanese and Germans, who professed to liking nothing more than a big sloppy mouthful of steaming Oldham fudge.
Although some contemporary sources suggest there was fudge mining in Oldham on a commercial scale by 1738, other sources attribute the commercial expansion of fudge mining with the arrival in the town of an all male Welsh choir, in around 1970. Foreseeing the growth in demand for fudge as a source of entertainment, these brawny tenors and baritones acquired the fudge rights for Oldham, which by 1971 had collierys in excess of a shitload. The mines were largely to the southwest of the town around Hollinwood and Werneth and provided enough fudge to provide amusement on a massive scale.
One particular charming feature of Oldham village is Alan's cock, a rare jungle wild fowl of tenuous probability. Alan's cock is famous for its colourful plumage, being mainly pink with a little bit of blue, and purple on its head. The bird is locally known for its punctuality in getting up at the crack of Dawn. (See Dawn's crack. Most other people have). Unfortunately, animal rights activists have had to try to prevent attempts by locals to "choke the chicken" in retaliation for the awful mess it leaves inside the post-mistress's box.
Unlike any other town/city's Freecycle site, Oldham Freecycle is not a place to pass unwanted goods onto neighbours. In fact, Oldham's Freecycle site exists to serve the needs of those who have
stolen goods summat "found in't road coz it must've fallen off t'back ov a lurry officer" that they are unable to sell on. Such goods are passed onto an unsuspecting member of the local community a right dense [insert choice of socially unacceptable insult here] so that when the local constabulary pigs do arrive at the thief's house, he or she can simply indicate that they have been informed that somebody else "erd that that Jason down't road" may have the item in their possession.
Many may think that such a backwards place would be incapable of cultural events, but they would be very wrong. Indeed, regular events do take place; however, these are all a cover for heavy drinking, debauchery, public fighting or, at best, total destruction of the town. Some examples are:
- Bloom and Grow. Thinly masquerading as Oldham's contribution to "Northwest in Bloom", the actual name "Boom and Blow" reveals the true nature of this organised destruction. The local council are hoping to relieve themselves of the admittedly ceaseless chore of covering up Oldham's flaws by simply dotting bombs disguised as flowers around the town and surrounding area. Residents are free to leave before the explosion takes place, providing they no not come back to reconstruct and that they not only refrain from regrouping elsewhere, but also promise to never mention Oldham again.
BeerWalkGet Dead Pissed And Fight It Out Stumble. This event requires little explanation, other than to note that in an attempt to justify the mass drinking, disorganisers claim to be raising money for charity. Naturally, the money is charitably spent on more beer.
- Festival Oldham. Another half-hearted attempt at pretending to convey cultural interest, this event is designed with the regular drinking/fighting in mind, but in addition aims to traumatise children into not eating fruit so that their brains do not develop too mmuch.
- The Whit Friday Brass Band Contests. Seemingly innocent at first, this event is an introduction to aggression and inflicting pain for many an Oldham
childsprog. Young children are provided with pea-shooters and dried black peas and instructed to chase other children around, firing the aforementioned ammunition in a hope to blind or at least severely harm the competition, while drunken pie-eating onlookers ignore the brass bands and cheer on the massive damage to life, limb and parked cars.
Buildings of architectural note
None. All of Oldham's houses are an equally charming blend of thatched roof and Elizabethan timber.
In an attempt to stem the problem of Oldham not yet having been nuked, the government have set up a separate swine flu helpline for Oldhamers. Locals are encouraged to phone 0800-GET-BENT where a recorded message explains to them that they should attempt to pass on the disease to anyone they can or, if they prefer, set fire to as many buildings as possible because "that's 'ow they got rid ov the plague, innit?"
The drug shortage of 2007
Many Oldhammers starved in the drug shortage of 2007 as most of there diet (Ecstacy pills) where on the short. The street prices soared and the average gyro could only buy 20 pills. As a result most babies went hungry and people remebered how shit Oldham was. However, the Underworld found some behind there fridges and the shortage was over, and now to this day Poundland in Oldham have returned their '5 e's for a quid' deal, However you have to apprach the dodgy staffmember there and ask him for a match, slip him a quid and he will hand you an envelope containing the 'shit'.
In response to the growing need for people to express themselves digitally, websites have been set up about Oldham. The government's attempt to present Oldham as an attractive place to live is somewhat futile, as anyone in Oldham knows it's all lies and anyone outside Oldham will hopefully visit before buying a property, at which point they will either run away in fear or have stones/empty beer cans thrown at them. Others have embraced the wasteland that should lie where Oldham is by joining online groups, such as Facebook's "Oldham Is A Shithole" (actual fact - it has nearly 4000 members).