Archives for October 2004 | Chavtowns - Britain's worst places to live!

Archive for October, 2004

birstall (leicestershire)

Posted on: October 27th, 2004 by admin 3 Comments

after reading about the sad demise of SILEBY in this section of “chavtowns”. I felt duty bound to include it’s near neighbour BIRSTALL.
Again tucked away in the countryside between the dual mecca’s of chavdom that are LEICESTER and LOUGHBOROUGH.
The youth of Birstall have recently become obsessed with copying their near neighbours by dressing in ridiculous “FAKE” sportwear and riding in “chavmobiles” pumping out the very worst of R&B & Hip-Hop. Their main points of congregation seem to be the park & outside Mcolls/Bargain Booze, attempting to purchase cheap cider & scare old ladies with their rancid language & spitting.
About as frightening as a gaggle of Riverside mothers. these morons are the latest youth culture to afflict this peaceful affluent village.

Gone are the heady days of the “Birstall Blades” who would have wiped the floor with these social rejects.

My only hope is that they should travel to nearby SILEBY of an evening & fight it out Chav to Chav with their nemises.

A couple of jars of special brew & merrydown snakebite in the Free Trade Inn. (No ID required)
and it’s off to the Horse & Trumpet for an hilarious toe to toe. Watch that fake burberry dosent get ripped you scum.

Rating: 10.0/10 (1 vote cast)

Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

Gibraltar

Posted on: October 27th, 2004 by admin 28 Comments

Colonial British backwater that the British Government forgot about.

What a mess! I went there on holiday a couple of weeks ago, using it as a ‘vantage point’ to go and visit parts of Spain and Morocco, and my God, I certainly didn’t spend much time in Gibraltar. This is rudeboy hell!

Expect to find them in Pizza Hut in their full chav-boy attire, or up on the rock, purposely stopping their souped up chav-mobiles, winding down the windows and cranking up their sub-woofers, to let the Barbary Apes ‘av it!! Cunts! What have those macacs ever done to them?

Take the Main Street for example. If you didn’t know where you were, you could be forgiven for thinking that you were in Penzance town centre! You get Dorothy Perkins, Marks & Spencer and loads and loads of very very tacky gift shops, selling loud T-shirts with pictures of the Union Flag gon, saying ‘Keep Gibraltar British!’

Best siting of chav-scum is around 4pm, where you can see them heading towards the Spanish boarder on their 50cc mopeds complete with token schoolgirl riding pillion. Very sad!

In the pubs, expect lots of exotic dishes, such as fish n chips, steak n kidney pie and chips, curry…..and chips! Yuck!

Conversely, the town just on the other side of the border (La Línea de la Concepción) is lovely! Nice clean streets, no litter, bars that serve nice food. I even slept there while on holiday while my friends stayed over the border in Gibraltar! BUT, believe it or not, tracksuits now seem to be all the rage in Spain as well, with loads of girls walking around in various different coloured tracksuits and wearing bling!! Is there NO HOPE?? When visiting the ancient Andalucian city of Ronda, I even saw a Spanish girl adorned in a Burberry cap! It’s official, chavs are not only restricted to the UK, and chavism is spreading….like a cancer!

Earlier on this year, Gibraltar celebrated 300 years of British rule! The British certainly did a good job of messing the place up! More like 300 years of British Botch-up! I say, hand Gibraltar back to the Spanish. Spain may be a poorer country than the UK, but at least they know how to make their towns look nice!!

Rating: 0.0/10 (0 votes cast)

Rating: -2 (from 2 votes)

Guildford

Posted on: October 27th, 2004 by admin 10 Comments

A multitude of Chavs from across the social spectrum. A study of the Chav capital of the south east.

Guildford, Surrey. Nestling in the heart of the commuter belt of middle class england, approx. 30 miles south-west of London. This quiet, historic market town provides sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of daily life in the Capital. Unfortunately it also provides refuge for the nastiest of Chavs and that most rare species: the ‘Rich Chav’

I was unfortunate enough to spend 2 years at college in this cess-pool of interbreeding, during which I could only dream of one thing: the A3 to London. If you look just below the surface, Guildford is quite a strange town in that there is a huge social divide between the ultra rich people living to the south and east of the town, and the ultra scum that inhabit the Park Barn and Bellfields estates to the north. They may be worlds apart socially but they certainly like to act the same.

The town basically acted like a a retirement village for the squaddies of Aldershot and beyond. These socially retarded violence junkies would often take a trip down to Guildford whilst on leave to drink, fight the locals and try and shag the women. Upon their discharge, they would think, “Where can I live which is isolated enough to keep the gene pool small, yet has enough pubs to ensure a good cross-section of the public get the kicking they deserve?”, and they would settle on Guildford. At this point they were split into two clear groups: the officers who could read and write and the privates who could drink and fight. Despite one group settling into a comfortable retirement in the large, sprawling houses that populate the outlying areas and another being crammed into the horrific sink estates to the north, they would always enjoy meeting up again on a weekend in town to knock each others teeth out.

Weekdays in Guildford can be fairly quiet, lulling you into a false sense of security. The odd comment hurled from a passing ‘hot hatch’, maybe the laughable sight of a mal-nurished 18 year old pikey and his fair maiden (13) skipping school. However, once the weekend rolls around its off to town for a gallon of Stella and a nice big fight at chuck out time on Bridge Street.

Ah Bridge Street. Situated in the heart of the town and crossing the river Wey, Bridge Street offers a multitude of entertainment establishments for the discerning Chav, including Weatherspoons, Yates, Edwards and Bar Med. It’s here that the scum of society like to mingle, have a few drinks, try their hardest to pull a she – Chav and if that fails, beat the crap out of each other. After which they all descend on one of the town’s fine after-hours drinking establishments, such as the big purple abortion Bojanglez, or the Drink, where celebrity racist Cheryl Tweedy confirmed her status as Queen Chav by battering a toilet attendant for the hell of it. Allegedly.

No synopsis of “Giwlfud” would be complete without mentioning the infamous Guildford Drag. On the first Sunday of every month, Chavs from all over the south-east of England gather in their delightfully customised cars to roar around a circuit of the town centre and end up in the car park at Burger King to try and burn off each others tyres.

The Guildfordian Chav is broadly identifiable by the mass of fake gold from Argos. More than any other regional variation, these Chavs like to confirm their status as the most affluent in the country by doubling their body weight in “sovvies”. Age is also unimportant. Even the casual Chav spotter can clearly identify between the 7 year old I spotted wandering through the station swigging a can of “Beater”, smoking a fag, and the 40 something scumbag who attacked me at 1.30 on a Monday afternoon on the high street for looking in his direction. Possibly a father and son team?

In conclusion, Guildford: the world would be greatly improved by it’s complete and utter non-existance.

Rating: 4.5/10 (10 votes cast)

Rating: -4 (from 4 votes)

Reading -Whitley Wood

Posted on: October 27th, 2004 by admin 18 Comments

Reading has been featured a couple of times here but there have only been passing mentions of the source of the chav Nile in Reading: Whitley Wood (Wit-lee, or West Reading, if you are not a scumster and own a house in that area).

Reading would be a tolerable town were it not for the dirt that seeps out from Whitley like maggots from a decaying carcass. All the classics are there, shitty council housing, shitty council scum people, incest, teen pregnancies and more sportswear than even Trisha could handle. Whitley even has it’s own famous smell which doesn’t actually come from the skit who live there. It is a combination of the sewage works (insert your own gag) and the warm milk on Weetabix smell that comes from the brewery and is known locally as the ‘Whitley Whiff’.

I have been in a few of the houses in Whitley and I never used to think I was better than other people, but I have to face the fact that after being in houses with no carpets, mountains of manky clothes as well as manky people, the tackiest knick knacks that make horse brasses look like Faberge eggs and bags of rubbish and flies lying around and on and on I could go, that I AM better than some people, as are most people when it comes to these chav/skit/kev wankers.

I don’t know where thay hang out in the Wood as I, like normal people, avoid the place like the plague, but if a town centre pub is favoured by them and has a name for being ‘full of Whitley’, then normal people steer well clear of it, unless they need to be entertained by the exhibits in there. The usual Macca D’s (four in the town centre)are crawling with them, as are the pound shops and TK Maxx and Primark shitholes that normal people either are too embarrased or too sober to shop in.

Affluent South East? Effluent stained streets.

Rating: 7.0/10 (3 votes cast)

Rating: -3 (from 3 votes)

Doddington/chavington

Posted on: October 27th, 2004 by admin 1 Comment

Doddington is basically a small fenland villiage thats surrounded by towns populated by people who’s highest ambition in life is to run a dog over with a tractor. Despite it only being one road, there are certain places that look like they’ve been hit with a ten tonne pikey bomb. For starters there’s the Abbey, main hang out of the self proclaimed ( i swear) ” Doddington Massive”. Yup, within 2 minutes of entering expect to see D.M spraypainted allover any brick looking surface ( they only have the intelligence to spray two letters at a time you see). their other main hangout area is just known as ” The Bench”. Its basically a horrid fag stained bench surrounded by Bottles of WKD and white lightning where many a chavette can be heard mouthing off about ” fak’ing gav and ‘is money” or heard shouting abuse at any “punks” that are wearing more than one item of black clothing.( But its o.k, little do they know i always piss on the bench before their nightly chavthering).

Now the doddington massive themselves are a mixed bag of twats. You have the usual 14 year old ratfucks with arms so thin they’d snap if they fell in a bush, and a penchant for those f**king hideous clown pendants. But the rest are made up of that loveable london rudeboy who’s positive he could ” eat J l’os pussy” and that he can M.C. The other day, (and this is no joke) i saw one of the ring leaders walking around in the local post office with his shirt off and a f**king beatbox on his shoulder.
And then there’s the pikeys who live down the road from me (of who’m the oldest is only f**king twelve) who throw stones at any passers by while their booze stained shellsuit wearing mothers cheer them on from the burberry sofa with a fag in their hand (and propably a cock in their mouth). But the sad thing is thats only the tip of the chavberg, my normally nice villiage is being overrun by von dutch wearing chavs and chavettes, (there’s about 50 now, in a villiage of over only just a hundred people). So basically, if you ever have to pass through here, you’ll feel my pain of only being a maximum of 5 metres away from these nike wearing vauxuall raping ratshits.

Rating: 0.0/10 (0 votes cast)

Rating: 0 (from 0 votes)

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