Click here for part 1
My limited experience of beautiful European Pavements.
Nee fancy words in this blog, going to keep the Northern Englishmens mentality. Short and Grimm, as few syllables as possible. Representing 50 days of constant rainfall in Gods country.
Love the lal dogs they do, but nee enough to pick up the food witch they fed them the neet before. So be very aware of every step. Besides the occasional dropping of Baquette or Croissant you shall find a not too appetizing Dog au Chocolate. Viva le Francais.
'Hands up' quote from questioned Frenchy.
San Sebastian,
They've won me owa, these East Northern Spaniards. Would like to credit the North Eastern Englishmen being similar, but trying to keep this real ey hew. But when it comes to pavements these la an lads have got it going on. Any dog droppings be picked up on the spot or in a few cases dropped straight t'bag. That be how train dog.
Quote be . . . made up by me. 'Pavement Dog drop she be, cut out she said'
Amsterdam,
Without sounding like a complete Racist . . . because I'm friends with multi Nationals. To prove this I've put them in a list. In order of preference;
Dutch ha
Deutsch
Thai
Chinese
Ghanaian
Them Southern Hemo Europeans i.e. Ozzy's / the beloved Queens favourite 'Kiwi's'
and the Japanese, cos fuck everyone loves sushi.
Note there nee be any Moroccans in this limited list, even though some of my closest friends be born and bred in that amazing country. However they do love to spit. Which brings me back to the reason why I'm sat here. 'Pavements in Amsterdam'
Littered with spit, seems to be some kind of tradition.
Berlin Baby,
Short an Sweet be what the lad said . . . Dog shite free . . . Jordy free . . . North African spit free.
Covered in litter, but of a promotion of an amorous culture of small businesses trying to make their way in the world which belongs in Berlin.
'Slash' littered with Gods first creation selling 'oregano' on Berlins pavements to the every always trusting city traveler.
Apologies' for the horrific, immature writing to any potential reader, but felt like one had to be intoxicated to write on this major universal subject.
'You need to get out, your brains thankfully are still alive, but your wows and your throws are splattered all owa pavement hew'.
