Tilehurst is a less salubrious part of Reading full of council estates and a lot of undesirables, but these undesirables are often of British extraction, whatever that is supposed to mean, which is not such a bad thing. It should always be borne in mind that you cannot make a purse out of a sow’s ear, and this generalisation may or may not be applied to, the women from Tilehurst.
Tarts are easy to spot having the following characteristics. They have dyed blonde hair, are always on the look-out for the unsuspecting male and invariably drink weirdo drinks such as cider and blackcurrant, a Cherry brandy shandy but the sure give away is a brandy and Babysham, the drink with the big kick or was that Pony, from years ago. They are also free with their sexual favours.
Well the Tilehust tarts in this case were mother and daughter who easily engaged us in verbal intercourse and extolled their praise of their son and grandson Darren. In a lifetime of teaching,
or in his case, trying to teach, Jimmy has always had the belief that if you call kids Darren,
Darryl, Jason or Justin, that they always ended up thick. To be fair, these girls were pleasant
enough and were having a few drinks while young Darren was taking part in a canoeing course,
which was commendable. Makes a change from lessons in how to mug a granny on pension
day ,how to give Paki a good kicking on the back of 10 pints of Tennents Super or how to rob
a high coin denominational slot machine without detection or how to help a spas person with
their shopping and then to run off with it, only to find that the diapers don’t fit you, the false teeth
adhesive has past it sell by date and the surgical stockings aren’t’ t your colour and far from
being crouch less, have a reinforced gusset.
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