If there’s one thing I hate more than the poverty of the East end then it’s the distressing sight of West end waifs being trailed up and down Byres Road sucking dirty blankets. The wee souls hide behind them to save being exposed to copious amount of car fumes while being trailed in and out of second hand shops.
Their wee lungs must be bleeding because they then go home to dusty, book-filled rooms where their parents drink red wine and inhale home-grown dried leaves "usually smoked or eaten to entice euphoria." The parents are probably miserable because they carry around all that venom they suppress towards the unworthy, unemployed, underclass.
The meek, mannerly mites are then exposed to soaring, excess, wholemeal, gluten-free flour while their mothers, high on ‘the good life’, pound dough whilst making home-made bread. Yes! It’s definitely much healthier for children to live in the pretentious, smug grid that is the West end.
That’s all for today folks!