The Shows

Never liked the shows. I don't know anyone over the age of ten that does. At least, not these travelling sort.

A combination of testosterone and candy floss filled yoofs ready for good square go with their or anybody else's shadows, the price of everything that means a walk the length of that gap between the goalposts will likely cost the best part of fifty quid if you have more than one hyper kid in tow, then the same back the way after buying some grey looking burgers served with a dozen styrofoam flavoured chips and a couple of bags of candy floss, or the fact that those hoops are never going to fit over the 99p watch or the wobbly darts fly in a straight line and stick in the board. Even the wee wummin manning the Ladybug ride looks like she wants to be anywhere else but in the middle of a grey, windy and wet dog-shit and Buckfast glass spattered park.

Fancied a shot on the colourful and intriguingly titled 'Peoples Mover' mind you.