Chavtowns – Britain's worst places to live!

I love Bilston, it’s one of them places you go to and suddenly feel so much better than yourself……owing to the fact it’s such a dump even if you live on your local park bench you’ll see theres worse places to be.

Firstly theres the town centre, though i prefer to think of it as a few shops selling counterfeit goods and surprisingly gorgeous chips, unfortunately thats the only thing you’ll find gorgeous around here as the locals leave a lot to be desired. The daytime consists of many a local pondering whether to spend their dole money on cheap tat on the market, or just get one of their 7 kids to steal it for them later on. The local school kids also prowl the place in their knock-off nike tracksuits intimidating the locals by swearing and playing awful music loud on their phones and mugging old ladies in broad daylight. If you do get mugged don’t expect anyone to do anything about it, everyones seen it before many a time. If you want to come here and meet a partner, and you actually have standards then forget it, the men are typically drunk by midday, smell of a combination of stale beer and body odour through having a shower once a blue moon, and the ladies are disgraceful, typically overweight, pushing around a pram by the time they’re 15 and wearing plenty of fake designer clobber and big hoop earrings (all stolen of course). Ohh and if you do end up getting frisky with one of these creatures, do keep a condom at hand theres more sti’s floating around than there are people in the local population. Local sports include running from the police (or the rozzers as they’re known locally), hurling rocks at people having a swim in the local pool, fishing for fish to sell to the local chip shop, shooting squirrels for your supper, horse riding one of the many pikey horses on wasteland, moto-x on a mini motorbike over the “fozza” as it’s locally know (a forest to you and me), hurdles which involves jumping over a row of fences having just being caught in someones shed, fencing without any protective gear and samurai swords. If you own a Jack russell, drive a battered transit tipper, drive it topless and speak with a dodgy irish accent you may qualify as a local pikey and can involve yourself on parking a caravan anywhere you fancy, then once your 2 weeks are up move 100 yards up the road and do the same again, and steal all the copper and lead you can from local factories and houses in the meantime.
Nightlife in Bilston is surprisingly good, if your old pay a visit to the Hop Pole and enjoy the sound of your peers making fools of themselves on the karaoke and then getting mugged when they pop outside to have a smoke or make a call. The market tavern which is full of football toting drunkards on a saturday afternoon is officially the worst nightspot where the sole bartender has been caught asleep over the bar on many occasions. The Sir Henry Newbolt is great for cheap beer, also has security for that peace of mind that you won’t get punched for looking at someone funny untill you walk down the road that is. The nearby Greyhound is what could be describe as a cesspit, were all the local council estate’s most hideous residents descend upon to strut their stuff and try to up their shag count. The trumpet is the residence of the die hard alcoholics it’s oldest regulars are usually dead by 45. Other hotspots are the Robin 2 which plays host to all sorts of x-factor rejects and tribute bands, and the olde white rose which is where people flock to before a band plays at the Robin 2 to get tanked up on high alcohol percantage local brew. Former hotspots were Gavins sports bar, once this chav hole’s favorite spot until it’s owner got shot outside the front door. Another hotspot was The tropical harmony club which was host to a few fatal shootings and stabbings and eventually got closed down.
Theres a few prolific estates in Bilston worth a mention. One of the most well known in “The Lunt”, which was given this name to remind it’s residents what a dump it is. Here daily life for a bloke involves waking up at 10′am in time for Jeremy Kyle, collecting your benefits in the local post office when you can be bothered, beating up your wife and going down the pub to brag about it. Women spend most their time eating cakes to keep their boobs big, nattering outside the newsagents about how their 7 kids piss them off and then eating more cakes. Kids spend their abysmal lives fighting each other, robbing bikes from outside the local shops and then smoking dodgy cigarettes.
If you think this place is bad however, take a trip to the neighbouring estate St Chads, and don’t let it’s humble name fool you this is worse. Full of pure scum if you got put here on parole after a lengthy spell in prison you’ll wish you were back inside it was once reported on in the local newspaper where an undercover reported lived with a resident and had their car ruined and was threatened and spat at in one week, because the locals didn’t recognise them.

If you ever feel the urge to visit this place please purchase a big old car, a handgun and a flamethrower and kill as many scumbags as possible, police response times typically go into days leaving plenty of time for you to escape getting your medal for services to the country.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 28th, 2010 at 5:20 pm and is filed under West Midlands. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.