God's preferred holiday destination, and primarily better then L*nc*shire. a place where the men remain men, and the women smell of (white) roses. a place where we eat pudding for tea, and drink only the finest of ales. a place where real football tackles are still made, and the sounds of leather balls on oak resonate proudly through the finest countryside known to mankind. a place where people speak prop'ly, there are no airs and graces, and nobody is offended.
Ultimately, inhumane levels of pride are inevitable.
Boycott: in Yorkshire; See all, 'ear all, say nowt. Eat all, sup all, pay nowt. An' if th'ivver does owt for
nowt, allus do it for thissen
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