I've just noticed that on my profile it says, 'Deviant for six years. Needs premium membership.'
I contest.
I do not need a premium membership, in fact I don't need anything at the moment, except maybe a coffee, and an option to use italics.

There are three kinds of people in Huddersfield, students, old people and…mothers with pushchairs.
Personally I think the push chair should be universally banned, for its crimes against the people, starting right here in the heart of West Yorkshire. For some reason these women seem to think they are the sovereign of the high street, the substance of the pavement, the extinct species of the zebra crossing, whom have a licence to terrorize the avenues with their four wheeled weapons of mass destruction.
It never actually struck me how unbelievably rude some of these buggy pushing populace are, they seem to believe they are far superior to the average pedestrian whom regrettably fall victim to malicious stroller attacks on a daily basis. For example, whether you be stuck behind one when your late back from you’re lunch break, trapped in a push chair pannini between the sale rails in Primark, or just nursing a nasty ankle wound from continuously being smacked in the legs by the wicked wheels of the said chair. Either way there seems to be a push chair possessor hierarchy on the rise where general law abiding citizens are obliged to take injury and smile at the ear piercing whine of the infants occupying them when you’d much rather see them swept under the swirling brushes of the maniac road sweep.
That aside, Huddersfield is not all fun and games, amongst the rolling hills, lush countryside and historical architecture lies a dark underbelly of more felony, pound shops and kebab shops. Sure there’s the dodgy accent, the people that let doors swing shut in your face and the ridiculously stupid one way traffic system, but the darkness of these aforementioned establishments are beginning to comprise the whole town.
Having resided in Huddersfield for nearly two years now I have also managed to form a distinctive observation, not only are the people rude they are incredibly ugly, you have to be over eighteen to look at some of them. They also seem to have a distinct lack of money as nobody seems to be able to afford to buy cigarettes. There isn’t a day that passes when I don’t get asked if I have, wait for it, a spare cigarette. What? Is it just me or is there actually such a thing? To my knowledge cigarettes are sold in packets of ten and twenty, (not including the packets of sixteen you get from the thieving machines in pubs) I’ve never come across a packet with spare ones, unless there is a limited edition packet of Marlboro reds in which you get a normal twenty deck with a couple spare for the masses of natives that pester you outside the Kings Gate centre.
No, I didn’t think so.
Still if you forget the rubbish clothes shops, the lack of record stores, the dated, cliché and mundane atmosphere of the pubs and trendy bars, the freak weather and the drive by shootings, Huddersfield is undoubtedly a charming and exquisite town to bring your kids to, push chairs welcome.

Christ.