Roasted May 25, 202691 views91 pts
We're sorry. Actually, no we're not.
Your entire claim to fame is the Müller factory churning out yogurt while Forest Green Rovers plays its football in Nailsworth. You're literally just the industrial estate that Nailsworth's pretentious football club uses as a postal address. Even your bricks look like they're trying to escape.
You live next door to the world's first vegan football club that doesn't even play in your town, while your residents brag about Tudor Tandoori takeaway. Dale Vince runs an organic pitch with a solar-powered robot lawn mower, but your idea of fine dining is fish and chips from the high street. The cognitive dissonance is staggering.
You market yourself as 'doorstep to gorgeous countryside' when you're actually a glorified motorway junction with delusions of grandeur. Your biggest excitement is the Stroudwater Canal quietly running through town like it's embarrassed to be there. St Cyr's Church gets photographed because literally nothing else is worth the film.
Your peak historical moment was getting tangled up with the Berkeley lords, the family implicated in the murder of Edward II. Since then you've peaked at brick-making and building housing estates near the M5. The only thing left of your ambition is a brickworks and a motorway junction.
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