Bridlington has a lot to answer for.
You know when people meet up and agree to do exciting things together in a different part of the world and then you pack all your stuff up and hop in a car to drive several miles (or hundred miles in some cases) in order to get to a place where you can all meet up before the big meet up and then you exchange pleasantries in someone’s dad’s kitchen perhaps chase the cats about a bit and then, when the time is right, you all hop in another car and start driving along the road that leads you to the place where the big meet up is going to happen and you look at cows as you keep going and the weather seems overtly nice and you crimsonly waltz up the M sixty something or other until you get to the coast and everything seems great and even though you’re as far East as you can go and the only entertainment is some drunken berks and possibly some bint with a piano in a social club that has about as much charm as a pubic louse and in the morning, with a glint in your eye and a song in your heart, you step outside to greet the world and finally FINALLY try to start doing all those exciting things and…
This happens.
We’ve clearly been having too much fun. The world doesn’t want us to be about and so, without wanting to sound too bitter, we’re shutting this gin joint down.
No, no, turn around my friend, you’re not welcome here. You’ve been spoilt with the sheer volume of content dripping from our collective pores and someone has to turn the tap off. Maybe when you’ve come to understand that, much like Bridlington, occasionally things have to shut the fuck off these pages will once again be strewn (STREWN I say) with all the juicy content you’ve been clamming for.
For now, well, let me close this chapter on a very hackable and mostly quiet October.
7 comments on “Sorry! We’re CLOSED!”
I think this is very harsh. We made a very average cake in a saucepan, and at the end of the day, isn’t that what life is all about?
The last part of that very average cake is still in my freezer. I didn’t have the heart to throw it away (or eat it, apparently).
I think you should just bin it. The day will never come when you want some cake so badly that it’ll be worth defrosting the sad lemon cake.
It is a very small portion. The only way it could be something good is to add a better cake to it or an entire packet of custard.
Exactly. You’re just adding to the reasons why you should bin it. Howay, sad Brid cake. Into the Biffa with you.
You can’t give up on things just because they’re tragic. We made that cake with love and affection, it deserves better.
We made that cake because we had nothing better to do, and because it had been a running joke for months that we’d make a cake from the Weigh and Save. Love and affection didn’t come into it.