Bolton

It's a very strange place, Many a hip young thing has sprung from its loins (Sara Cox, Vernon Kay, Peter Kay, er, some other people) and I have discovered the achilles heal of Bolton, the Sampson and Delilah like weakness which would surely render any person who made the historic journey past the M62 weak and nauseous with confusion....

Tea.

Or as they like to call it - 'a brew', if I have been asked if I would like a brew once, I have been asked 2000 times, my God they drink a lot of tea here. I'm surprised the whole town isn't sponsored by PG Tips. This is the reason all those animated characters in the adverts are voiced by people sporting attempted northern accents - It's all they drink, Wetherspoons has a 'cup of tea and a cake' offer where usually it's 'ale of the week', thay should all have it put straight into their arm by way of a drip feed, it would save time boiling the kettle.

'Brew? anyone for a brew? I'm brewin' up?! CAN YOU HEAR ME TRISH? I SAID I'M BREWIN' U- OH YOU DID HEAR ME, IS THAT A NO THEN? ARE YOU SURE? IT'S 11 O'CLOCK NOW, OK THEN, ANYONE ELSE FOR'T BREW? NO? Oh Pat you want one, ok then, where's your mug love? I SAID WHERE'S YOUR MUG? Oh here it is, right then, off we go.

Anyways, I should get back to work before the all the women in the office fall into a coma from lack of tea.