As you enter Newhaven (from either the ferry, the train or the 712 bus) you are suddenly swamped by chavs. They tend to hang around in groups of 5-7 in the day but this increases to about 500 in the night. Most of these chavs live up Gibbon road and each chav has about 20 siblings. These chavs are all very close to eachother as they are all related in some way whether it be cousins, brothers, sisters, uncles etc… The chavs which can afford cars and are old enough to drive (or they may not be old enough, it doesnt bother these chavs) tend to congregate in mc donalds and B&Q carpark in their shitty escorts and fiestas shouting things out to their fellow chav buddies things like ”Lets as 2nds on that fag carl”, and ”How many birds you shag up liberties last night then mate?”.

Liberties: The ultimate Newhaven chav hangout of an evening (a nightclub). Free entry and buy one get one free on drinks before 11… who the f**k would pay to get in their anyway and the drinks are out of date!! This is the place most girls in newhaven are inpregnated… (before the age of 14 of corse)… I think its actually a law in newhaven that you have to have 6 kids before the age of 19?! If the chavs are feelin adventourous of a day they may venture to either denton, south heighton or possible seaford if they can get away with bunking the train. however if they decide to stay in Newhaven they could enjoy smoking some solids in the towns multi-storey (all 2 levels of it) or they could take a trip to the town and rob from shops such as woolworths and erm… well thats the only shop there really apart from a charity shop and a bakery. For the chavs that dont have baths or showers in their houses they could become a member of the local swimming pool and pay as little as £4 to bath for up to an hour. When the chavs of Newhaven save up their pocket money they could take a trip to brighton, churchill square (another chav town in e.sussex), this is where the chavs of newhaven purchase their fake burberry and tn hats and joggin bottoms they tuck into their donay socks.
So if you are a chav then come to NEWHAVEN, its perfect for you… what more could you want?!

Whitehawk and neighbouring chav-hole Moulsecoomb are the third world areas of Sussex…

There is nothing good that I can say about the ‘Hawkers’. The area is a dive. Hawkers have yet been able to grasp the English language. Instead, everything they say has to end in ‘innit’ or ‘nah, mate’.

The little chav kids think they really are something special, and the parents, well, they are a lost cause. Tattoo’d to the nines, more fat than you could imagine, cheap clothes that smell of cigarettes, body odour and have less intelligence than a concrete slab. They make Waynetta Slob look attractive in comparison.

Crime in this area is high – domestics, robbery, shoplifting, vehicle/violent crime are common. Even though the police try to restore order in the chavvy little area, they are greeted with abuse. With the mere sight of anything police related people look out their windows, come out of their chav council houses, and the little scroats gather round trying to look hard in front of the police.

I had the ‘pleasure’ of working in Whitehawk for one night and was amazed at how idiotic a lot of the kids are. I was approached by a spotty Blazin’ Squad wannabe who called himself ‘the King’. The lad hadn’t even finished school. Twat.

Baseball caps worn in an unfashionable way, Burberry, shell suits, Luis Vuitton, Reebok classics, McKenzie and lots of jewellery are the norm with chavlings. The boys have greasy hair that has been bleached with domestos and the girls have more colours in their hair than a rainbow.

Teenage pregnancy in the ‘Hawk is high. Example: Wayne shags Crystal for a dare one night when they attend a chav party, drinking White Lightning. Wayne boasts that he’s the ‘daddy in town’ for getting laid. Nine months later he is, only he is no longer around to adjust to fatherhood thus leaving Crystal to bring up Courtney/Casey/Bobby/Page/Britney or whatever the poor kid has been named with help from the social.

It’s rare to see a vehicle with four wheels or with valid car tax. If for some strange reason you have to venture into Whitehawk, don’t leave your car unattended. The chavs can sense fresh meat and will take your car or anything within it seconds after you have disappeared.

I could go on, but to sum it up – Whitehawk is a scum filled place, with no hopers who either already are or will end up on the dole.

I’m pleased that I live in Hove, even if it is only a few miles away from the Third World.
Continue reading “Whitehawk (Brighton)” »

A seedy ‘holiday’ resort full of crumbling 1920s buildings and crappy neon light chav hovels.
The journey from Liverpool to this ‘end of the line’ chav hangout takes approximately twenty minutes and can at times be a nightmare – especially during the school holidays when the ‘trackie in socks brigade’ and their cola rotten-toothed San and Trays are in tow. Typical chav day trip to New Brighton will start in Central Station when hoards of these vermin will descend the escalator in their minty tacksuits and filthy trainers, leaving trails of e-snack packets and cheap cola drink cans behind them.

The journey itself is a nightmare – they usually end up at the front of the train trying to escape the ticket inspector. Occasionally, they are caught and thrown off, but this happens infrequently, unfortunately. The coaches are filled with cig, weed smoke and e-numbers smells, and the seats covered with filth from their stinking trainers. More litter is left all over the floor.

Once in New Brighton, the chavs shuffle off to various hangouts, the main ones being the amusement arcades, where they try to get money by shoving the roll-a-penny machines and mugging goths, or the fairground, where they are often chased away by the dead-hard gypsies who man the rides.

Come the evening, they move into various bars, including The Albion, noted for its excrutiatingly bad karaoke and lax attitude to underage drinking. There are usually fights. Later still, they descend on what is probobly the worst nightclub on Merseyside, RJs. The smell of cheap aftershave and Woolies scent is almost overpowering, and the chav lads try to ‘bag off’ with the ‘talent’. There are usually fights.

At two thirty in the morning, New Brighton is littered with chavs in various states of drunkeness, some looking for fights, but most just spewing up in shop doorways. The evening ends with police wagons rounding up those still about, which is just as well because they’ve missed the last train and haven’t got the taxi fare home.

New Brighton – great place for any of you photographers to do a chav photoshoot – it’s got lovely light!