| rdfs:comment | - The name "Dronfield" is thought to mean the field or open place where they shoved back the burnt-out cars to stand around to ugly, chubby women talk on and on and on. Christ, you know they had to put them somewhere but why did it have to be Dronfield? Anyway, this is where they put them and this is where they stayed. To escape from these Smirnoff-chugging harridans, the men of Sheffield built a monastery that they could hide in but Henry VIII spoilt all that by knocking it down. As a way of saying sorry, he built numerous pubs for the consumption of alcohol, knowing that otherwise there was nothing at all to do.
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| abstract | - The name "Dronfield" is thought to mean the field or open place where they shoved back the burnt-out cars to stand around to ugly, chubby women talk on and on and on. Christ, you know they had to put them somewhere but why did it have to be Dronfield? Anyway, this is where they put them and this is where they stayed. To escape from these Smirnoff-chugging harridans, the men of Sheffield built a monastery that they could hide in but Henry VIII spoilt all that by knocking it down. As a way of saying sorry, he built numerous pubs for the consumption of alcohol, knowing that otherwise there was nothing at all to do. Drinking alcohol became popular, so popular that by 1822 almost 100,000,000,000 pints were consumed every friday night in every house in Dronfield. The success of the pub led to the congregation of ugly, spotty teenagers in nearby parks as they were unable to contain their excitement at the prospect of being able to drink in a pub one day. As a way of alleviate their dispair, Smirnoff Ice was invented and thrust into their willing, sickly, pale, bony hands. In the late 1960's everything was to change. Local businessman, Geoffery Tarmac noticed that everything in Dronfield was too old and different, and that Something Must Be Done about it. Geoffery and his lover, Henry Homes, went for a nice little walk in the unspoilt, idyllic fields that lay to the West of Dronfield. Geoffery noticed a beaver in a stream and went to tickle it but it did a poo and ran away. Henry, in a similar way, captured a squirrel and tried to kiss it but it bit him on the nose. Geoffery and Henry were so angry that they vowed to have revenge on this harsh wilderness and decided to form a gang dedicated to destroying it. That gang became known as Homes Tarmac. Homes Tarmac was in such a rush to destroy the wilderness, they almost couldn't think straight. "What shall we do?" they asked. "Let's build houses!" they said, and started flicking through the Modern Cheap Homes catalogue. Their flicking fingers came to a rest at page 223, which was boring box suitable for "young aspirational families" and in the blink of an eye Mr Homes was on the phone ordering a batch of 10,000 identical houses. "Do you want anything else?" the salesman asked. "No" Henry replied. "Do you require any recreational facilities?". "No" said Henry. "How about something cultural like a theatre?". "No, you communist!" said Henry and slammed down the phone. Geoffery glared at Henry. "Ok, so we fucked the squirrels and the beavers but what will the kiddies do with no facilities?", he said with a silly, quivering bottom lip. "Let them drink Smirnoff IcE!" replied Henry and the future came into being. Can you believe it? Utopia was created just like that. Everyone was happy.
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