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thelibraniniquity1) Go to google and type in "You know you're from [your area] when..."
2) Cut and paste the list.
3) Bold or italicise items that apply to you.
You know you're from Brighton when...
When going into Churchill Square, you try and simultaneously avoid the 'goffix' outside Borders, and the chavs outside WHSmiths.
You were, at one point in your childhood, forced into the paddling pool on the sea front, no matter how cold it was.
You call people who can't walk on a pebbly beach wimps.
You've been yelled at by the park warden in Pavillion Gardens for not paying for a deck chair.
You spent your underage years down at the beach with a bottle of Lambrini, even if it was arctic weather.
You've sharpened your elbows for the car boot at Brighton Station, only to find there was nothing worth buying anyway.
You've seen the seaside train go past.
You've spent all summer either under the West Pier, or in Pavillion Gardens listening to the guy with the weird sax/clarinet.
You know the only place to go for chips is Kensingtons.
You've found a real bargain in Snooper's Paradise and bragged about it for ages.
You've had at least one 'tourist day' where you pretend you're not from Brighton, and go on the pier and buy candyfloss, visit the Sea Life Centre, and spend all your money in the Old Penny Arcade.
You've gone somewhere you didn't need to go, specifically because there was an open top bus headed that way.
You hear people raving about the nightlife, but really only have a couple of places you normally go.
You remember when they tightened up on IDs and you made a list of all the pubs who still let underage people in.
You've been to the All Night Diner, and remember when they stopped putting sauces on the table because people used to have ketchup fights.
You've had at least one birthday party at each of the following places: Pirate's Deep, King Alfred's, the Sea Life Centre (go on Sammy the Seal!). (Not technically mine, but I've *attended* at least one party at each of them!)
On that note, you know it's not worth going to King Alfred's anymore because the water is rank! (Oh, hell yes.)
It's the bloody Palace Pier, not the Brighton Pier. (A THOUSAND TIMES, YES.)
You saw the West Pier burn down...
...and fall into the ocean...
...twice.
You know that Hove Park and Blatch are mortal enemies, as are BHASVIC and Varndean.
You hate the influx of foreign language students in the summer because there are always massive crowds of them with the sole purpose of blocking your way.
You're bored of Churchill Square, still get lost in the Lanes, and know that the North Laine is spelt with an I, and you still put an S on the end of it even though you know it's wrong.
You know the Pavillion is better on the outside than the inside, and you remember when it was lit up pink for Pride.
You go to Pride every year and love it, or alternatively, went once and vowed never again.
You've been dragged round the open houses in the Festival by a parent, and then find you quite enjoy it when you're not forced to go.
You've been in the Children's Parade on May 1st, and made a paper mache creation for Burning the Clocks.
You know the Duke of York's is the only decent cinema, but still continue to go to the Odeon, just because it's easier to get to.
You hate the walk up North Street to Churchill Square when you're loaded down with shopping. (It's soul-destroying.)
You're not phased by seeing 'celebrities' in the street (Preston, The Kooks, Chrith Eubank etc)
The words 'Chris Eubank' are quickly followed by the word 'wanker', and you have at some point almost been run over by him.
Wherever you go, you immediately spot a fellow Brightonian.
You're tired of being asked 'are you gay?' when you say you're from Brighton.
You've been clubbing down on the seafront and wake up in a fishing boat.
You've been to a 'beach party', frozen to death and had someone be sick on you.
You're used to seeing homeless people, and are surprised when you go somewhere where there are none.
You can go 3 years without seeing someone, then bump into them 10 times in one week.
You know every foreign language school logo from 50 feet away.
The words 'gig at the Concorde' are swiftly followed by a groan and 'missionnnn!'
You've seen James (old guy who wears crazy clothes and walks WELL slowly), the guy who's channelling Hendrix, 'The Troll', with over 100 facial piercings (who allegedly has started wearing keyrings on them!), and 'fluffy hat man', who frequents the Lanes and the beach.
You know the only way to get through the North Laine, the Lanes, and George Street without being eaten alive by charity workers is to pretend to be on your phone.
If you live in Hove, you get an unrepressable urge to say 'Hove actually', even though you know the groans it will get.
You know that the London Road is to be avoided at all costs. No exceptions.
It doesn't feel right waking up anywhere with no seagulls squarking.
You remember MegaZone (what a place!) and got conned into buying an annual pass a month before they closed down.
You've been stopped in the street and complimented on your outfit by a scary and overwhelming, but well-meaning camp man.
You remember that first Party In The Park - free, no fences, and Billie was the highlight of the day.
You don't bat an eyelid when being introduced to your new boy/girlfriend's mum, and mum's girlfriend. Or dad, and dad's boyfriend.
You remember Terry Garogan's Last Bus To Whitehawk, and have avoided that bus ever since.
You know that seagulls are far worse than pigeons.
You remember Peter Pan's playground and the ride with the caterpillar going through the apple.
When people ask what the dip is you reply "It's a sort of...dip" while making vague dipping motions with your hand.
You think taking a photo of the West Pier at sunset ought to be punishable by being horsewhipped out of town. (I did that once, but only because it was a week after the first time it was set on fire.)
You remember Hanningtons, and the old ice rink tucked away in the corner near Air Street.
2) Cut and paste the list.
3) Bold or italicise items that apply to you.
You know you're from Brighton when...
When going into Churchill Square, you try and simultaneously avoid the 'goffix' outside Borders, and the chavs outside WHSmiths.
You were, at one point in your childhood, forced into the paddling pool on the sea front, no matter how cold it was.
You call people who can't walk on a pebbly beach wimps.
You've been yelled at by the park warden in Pavillion Gardens for not paying for a deck chair.
You spent your underage years down at the beach with a bottle of Lambrini, even if it was arctic weather.
You've sharpened your elbows for the car boot at Brighton Station, only to find there was nothing worth buying anyway.
You've seen the seaside train go past.
You've spent all summer either under the West Pier, or in Pavillion Gardens listening to the guy with the weird sax/clarinet.
You know the only place to go for chips is Kensingtons.
You've found a real bargain in Snooper's Paradise and bragged about it for ages.
You've had at least one 'tourist day' where you pretend you're not from Brighton, and go on the pier and buy candyfloss, visit the Sea Life Centre, and spend all your money in the Old Penny Arcade.
You've gone somewhere you didn't need to go, specifically because there was an open top bus headed that way.
You hear people raving about the nightlife, but really only have a couple of places you normally go.
You remember when they tightened up on IDs and you made a list of all the pubs who still let underage people in.
You've been to the All Night Diner, and remember when they stopped putting sauces on the table because people used to have ketchup fights.
You've had at least one birthday party at each of the following places: Pirate's Deep, King Alfred's, the Sea Life Centre (go on Sammy the Seal!). (Not technically mine, but I've *attended* at least one party at each of them!)
On that note, you know it's not worth going to King Alfred's anymore because the water is rank! (Oh, hell yes.)
It's the bloody Palace Pier, not the Brighton Pier. (A THOUSAND TIMES, YES.)
You saw the West Pier burn down...
...and fall into the ocean...
...twice.
You know that Hove Park and Blatch are mortal enemies, as are BHASVIC and Varndean.
You hate the influx of foreign language students in the summer because there are always massive crowds of them with the sole purpose of blocking your way.
You're bored of Churchill Square, still get lost in the Lanes, and know that the North Laine is spelt with an I, and you still put an S on the end of it even though you know it's wrong.
You know the Pavillion is better on the outside than the inside, and you remember when it was lit up pink for Pride.
You go to Pride every year and love it, or alternatively, went once and vowed never again.
You've been dragged round the open houses in the Festival by a parent, and then find you quite enjoy it when you're not forced to go.
You've been in the Children's Parade on May 1st, and made a paper mache creation for Burning the Clocks.
You know the Duke of York's is the only decent cinema, but still continue to go to the Odeon, just because it's easier to get to.
You hate the walk up North Street to Churchill Square when you're loaded down with shopping. (It's soul-destroying.)
You're not phased by seeing 'celebrities' in the street (Preston, The Kooks, Chrith Eubank etc)
The words 'Chris Eubank' are quickly followed by the word 'wanker', and you have at some point almost been run over by him.
Wherever you go, you immediately spot a fellow Brightonian.
You're tired of being asked 'are you gay?' when you say you're from Brighton.
You've been clubbing down on the seafront and wake up in a fishing boat.
You've been to a 'beach party', frozen to death and had someone be sick on you.
You're used to seeing homeless people, and are surprised when you go somewhere where there are none.
You can go 3 years without seeing someone, then bump into them 10 times in one week.
You know every foreign language school logo from 50 feet away.
The words 'gig at the Concorde' are swiftly followed by a groan and 'missionnnn!'
You've seen James (old guy who wears crazy clothes and walks WELL slowly), the guy who's channelling Hendrix, 'The Troll', with over 100 facial piercings (who allegedly has started wearing keyrings on them!), and 'fluffy hat man', who frequents the Lanes and the beach.
You know the only way to get through the North Laine, the Lanes, and George Street without being eaten alive by charity workers is to pretend to be on your phone.
If you live in Hove, you get an unrepressable urge to say 'Hove actually', even though you know the groans it will get.
You know that the London Road is to be avoided at all costs. No exceptions.
It doesn't feel right waking up anywhere with no seagulls squarking.
You remember MegaZone (what a place!) and got conned into buying an annual pass a month before they closed down.
You've been stopped in the street and complimented on your outfit by a scary and overwhelming, but well-meaning camp man.
You remember that first Party In The Park - free, no fences, and Billie was the highlight of the day.
You don't bat an eyelid when being introduced to your new boy/girlfriend's mum, and mum's girlfriend. Or dad, and dad's boyfriend.
You remember Terry Garogan's Last Bus To Whitehawk, and have avoided that bus ever since.
You know that seagulls are far worse than pigeons.
You remember Peter Pan's playground and the ride with the caterpillar going through the apple.
When people ask what the dip is you reply "It's a sort of...dip" while making vague dipping motions with your hand.
You think taking a photo of the West Pier at sunset ought to be punishable by being horsewhipped out of town. (I did that once, but only because it was a week after the first time it was set on fire.)
You remember Hanningtons, and the old ice rink tucked away in the corner near Air Street.