nailsea
A place that smells like old socks, fried chips, and regret. It’s where the ugly, the lazy, and the slightly dead live.
My aunty moved to Nailsea and now she eats toast for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
I took a holiday there and came back with a rash and a bad attitude.
The local dog looks like it’s been run over by a minibus.
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