“Hello how are you? I am fine? Hoping this finds you as it leaves me. I never should have come on holiday to Watford Gap services, Preston bus station, or fucking Doncaster. But here I am, and I guess I’ll make the best of it. There are pretty nice toilets at the services, I guess.”
If the above sounds like something you’ve written on a postcard before, don’t blame yourself. I have it on good authority that certain service stations and roundabouts employ evil government mind control people to trick you into going on holiday there. They do this by producing postcards. This tricks people into thinking “If there’s a postcard of it, it’s a holiday place! Come on Ann, let’s go on holiday to Doncaster!”
I grew up in Doncaster. It is not a holiday place.
With that in mind, let’s have a look at some of the ways the government has tried to trick you into visiting Newport Pagnell, or Norwich post office.
Before we begin, this stupid idea is courtesy of my friend Larry Bundy. His YT channel is here, and it’s a lot better than this shit.
Good Luck From Watford
Why is this a thing.
– Why does Watford of all places need to wish us good luck.
– Why is the High Street on there twice.
– Why is that cat.
Best Of Luck From Hastings
Not to be outdone, Hastings has wished us even more luck. And at least Hastings is at the seaside. Didn’t we all get killed at Hastings once?
That’s a very serious dog.
Airedale Shopping Centre, Keighley
This confirms my belief that the government has invented time travel, and is using it to make money off us. Consider the following – under no circumstances are you going to visit Keighley with enough enthusiasm to buy a postcard of its shopping centre. UNLESS, you are an old shop nerd like me, and wish to visit Dixons, Birthdays, and Radio Rentals.
How the government makes money off this is unclear.
“Hello I’ve gone on holiday to the M6 by mistake. Are you the farmer?”
The only person I could imagine going on holiday to the M6 is my father in law, who, according to Alex, would stop on the way to the proper holiday, and cook sausages on a camping stove on the hard shoulder, while bemused motorists looked on.
They went to the trouble of taking 5 different photos of the M6.
Merrion Centre, Leeds
OK, I do love the Merrion Centre, but I wouldn’t go on bastard holiday there. What I love about the Merrion Centre is the weird, almost abandoned indoor market part that no one seems to know about. It’s been a while since I lived in Leeds, so that might be flats and a Costa for all I know.
Actually, the postcard is of the weird market bit, upon further inspection. I guess they just built other shops on top of it. That’ll teach me to drink wine.
Still not going on holiday to it.
I don’t care how swirly your banner is, no fucker is voluntarily visiting Milton Keynes. Except Superman, and only because he was getting paid.
Newport Pagnell Services
I don’t care about Newport Pagnell so much that I had to Google it.
“In the borough of Milton Keynes”
Imagine my shock.
Great, there’s always a welcome. There aren’t bouncers at the side of the slip road deciding you look dodgy. Great.
Norwich Post Office
As a Leeds supporter, I feel it is my duty to say that, in Norwich, when they say “Meet my wife and sister”, don’t expect a third person to turn up.
That being said, even if I was required by law to go to Norwich, the Post Office would be fairly low on the list of “places I must visit and buy a postcard of”.
“Hi Sis, I’m here to collect the Family Allowance.”
“Sorry Mum, the computer exploded when I tried to get it.”
Preston Bus Station
Even if this is not a standard tourist postcard, even if this is some sort of ‘collector’s item’. It’s Preston bus station. Why.
Even the cars are suicidal in Preston.
Fun fact: The Scunthorpe tourist board had to use pictures from 150 years ago in order to trick incoming visitors into thinking it isn’t Scunthorpe. This is because people in Scunthorpe think it’s a good idea to burgle the police station.
And this is coming from someone who lives in West Bromwich.
Speaking of which…
Look, I moved here for love, not for the scenery. Having said that, let me share some highlights of my time here:
– A man stopping me outside the shop at 7am to ask “Do you think people can get to the moon?”
– A guy pushing a kid’s pushchair along the main road. the pushchair contained a gas canister.
– The guy outside our flat who regularly screams and swings chains around while topless.
– The 30 stone woman in a boob tube and leggings, waiting outside the solicitors at half 8.
– The mythical car that everyone but me has seen, that’s been painted with beige house paint and a brush.
Like I say, I moved here for love.