Chavtowns – Britain's worst places to live!

As soon as you enter Rugby you notice on the Railway bridge has been daubed the sign ‘welcome to Drugby’ and it then sinks in… that cold feeling down the back of your spine that sends chills into your soul, the very essence of life is slowly being sucked out of you as you look to the people walking along the street, you notice three girls about 15 years old each pushing big plastic pushchairs, hair pulled right back as if the skin were about to come away at the scalp and the Bling glistening in the sunlight. Ask them who the father is and they will list off each a dozen names, and at least 3 of them will be mentioned three times, once by each girl. as you drive further onwards you can take a left into the town centre or, if you are wise, take the right and skirt wround it…but I warn you now…the chav population is massive and it’s tendrils are spread throughout the villages… DO NOT tun round and if u see any signs pointing towards Brownsover DO NO take them…the Chav Hive lingers there… the stench of CK1 and Bryll Creem hangs in the air in a green and blue mist above this vast estate. Should you enter the town then your a brave brave soul indeed. As you drive up through the single main road, chavs will stop and stare…if you are caught by traffic lights lock your doors. ‘Parking is done so at owners risk’ says the sign as you enter the car park…there is two multi storeys or several long stay open air ones, the Chavs know these as the shopping precincts. If you watch carefully you can see a chav at work in his/her natural habitat. ‘Where are the police?’ I hear you ask. Well…Rugby Police station is open during office hours mon-fri. and weekends you wil have to travel to Coventry to find yourself a bobby. And during the day the Rugby area allocated to be policed (which covers around 100 square miles) is maintained by a force of merely 8 police officers. Yes, thats right…8. After securing your car with a barbed wire fence and an array of Claymore mines, six machinegun turrets and a guard dog named Fluffy, you can then proceed to the Town centre itself. And lo and behold there they are…Chavs in all their finest glory…the tinkling of chains and the clinking of rings fills the air. Eyes are dazzled by the whiteness of the tracky bottoms and tops and how do they get their socks whiter than white? those trainers look as if they are vacuum packed every night in a static free dust sleeve, yes, the vainess of the chav is immortalised here. A gathering of chavs is forming beneath the clock tower. they have been circling their prey for the past half hour. 10 youths aged 16-20 all poke fun at a single Goth girl of about 14. lets look at this closely… In the chav/chavette mind the goth must be a threat to society because they ALL drink blood, they ALL kill people because of their music and they ALL must be poked fun at because they are different from the rest of society…this is not the case… many more people have died due to violence being promoted in RnB and Hip Hop… since when has System of a Down ever sung about hanging out with their homies shootin the fuzz and robbing cars and killing enemy gangs? As for Goths who drink blood…yes, alas this is true of many gothic types but not all. and I dont know any Goths that have purposefully pinned a guy down, torn into their neck and drank their blood where I can tell you that I have known several chavs to bore people down and stab them in the neck cos they ‘looked at them funny’ and yes Goths are different…from Chavs… if they were completely different in the social system how would they be classified as goths? if because of their clothing and the fact it’s not got the Ellesse logo blazened across it means they are a Goth then remind me to go into town wearing my clown outfit… yes I’m a Goth cos I’m different from the chavs. After a while the inevitable happens…the girl tries to get away crying and the pack pounce on her, stealing her handbag and running away leaving the girl on the floor crying…yet another unreported crime because nobody saw a thing… how do you tell the police when they ask for a description ‘yeah…they were wearing nike trainers had baseball caps on and enough gold on them to re-float the stock exchange. She will go home another victim of the crime wave that seems unstoppable in this country. Rugby is made of 80% clothing shops and 10% estate agents and 10% miscellaneous. it has a Mcdonalds in the town centre and several nightclubs along with a bevvy of pubs all waiting that friday saturday nightime of beer violence and fights. The police have even given up policing fights. they sit in their CCTV van and record the whole thing. Thats reassuring! ‘I’ve been beaten and put in hospital by 8 drunken yobs BTU NOT TO WORRY!!! they are on CCTV so thats it! yay!….or so you’d think… more than half assault cases are dropped by people who cant be bothered with the hassle of going to court to watch the guy who has given you a permanent limp being given a caution and openly in court telling you ‘you’re time has come’ 2 weeks later he was found dead. Stabbed in the graveyard next to one of the nightclubs. Move slightly out of the town area and you will find Junction 1 retail Park. what greets you? a burnt out ‘Curry’s’ and and another Mcdonalds and a KFC, a franky and benny’s a cinema and a Bowling alley. The bowling alley is the proving ground for up and coming chavs. Starting from around 7-8 years old, legal trender is various forms of contraception and they play a game…see how much hassle they can cause before being thrown out and then seeing how far you can push the limits before the police are called. but not to worry… the police cant touch you, only take your details, and that girls handbag you stole earlier has her details in it so give them that address. Mostly coming from the District of Brownsover, the largest Council Estate in Rugby, this is the centre of crime… every town has a ghetto… this is Beirut on a bad day. at least 3 shootings a week and more money changing hands through drugs each day than at the checkouts at tesco’s, give the town the nickname Drugby… ‘if Rugby aint got it, it’s not in the country!’ say dealers around the area. Chances are you will get screwed over by one of its many resident dealers. All in all I hope u have a pleasant stay in Rugby, the home of Rugby football…had it been invented these days then William Webb Ellis wouldn’t have just picked up the bal and ran with it. he’d have picked it up, shot the games master, twoc’d a Ford Cortina and Driven off with his 13 year old pregnant girlfriend!!!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 19th, 2005 at 10:45 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.