Chavtowns

A small village near Kilmarnock, – a town which in itself deserves
an article in this web site – Catrine sees itself as an ‘historic mill
town’. This may be true but it is not an accurate description of
the village. Catrine is a ned town (the word ‘ned’, is the Scottish
equivalent of the word ‘chav’).

Situated in East Ayrshire, a county which is home to a
phenomenal number of neds, Catrine is by no means the county
‘ned capital’. All towns in East Ayrshire are choc-a-bloc with
semi-literate, inbred morons.

One of the most salient aspects of Catrine life is dog ownership.
Dogs are a favourite companion of the ned or chav because a
chav’s brain functions in much the same way as a dog’s brain.
Consequently, the entire village and its environs are strewn with
copious quantities of dog shit. Filth which is left for days
and sometimes weeks to be spread and wiped around the local
thoroughfares by the trainer clad, shuffling feet of the
brain-dead villagers. This however, is of no concern or
inconvenience to the locals as most of them have been up to their
knees in shit their entire lives.

Another outstanding facet of the village is its ability to
accumulate enormous quantities of litter. Plastic ‘kerry oot’(off
sales) bags adorn and infest the flora like some strange and ugly

rotting fruit. Half eaten kebabs, empty alcopops containers, beer cans, pizza boxes, pieces of carpet, discarded trainers and baseball caps, everything from rusting fridges and cookers to burned out cars are to be found in all locations.

The remains of a peculiar and utterly revolting local foodstuff may also be found regularly. This brown, gravy-like noxious substance is to be seen
spilling from pale yellow polystyrene containers on almost every
pavement in East Ayrshire. I have been unable to ascertain the
exact nature of this mysterious and odious comestible but
judging by the amount of dog shit covering the village, I suspect
that an enterprising local ned has somehow managed to capitalise
on the excess of excrement. Kebabs or dog crap – the East
Ayrshire palate is surely not one to differentiate.

Catrine is home to a large number of short, ball-shaped angry
looking females who, if not clogging up the inadequate local
transport with their gigantic arses are aimlessly pushing prams
and buggies around the village. These woman invariably wear
expressions of extreme militancy are are not to be approached.
Their sartorial style comprises of over-sized dirty looking
anoraks, the ubiquitous dirty-white trainers and of course, the ill
fitting, pseudo-faded blue jeans which allow generous dollops of
corpulent, pock marked white flesh to spill outwards from their
waistbands. Coiffure is either the ‘council estate face lift’ – a
greasy pony tail or bun tied so tight that it pulls the facial
features into a grimace – or the ‘burst sofa’ effect, A frazzled,
slept-in frizz.

Shabby baseball caps of various colours are perched atop the
vacuous crania of most of the males although the Burberry is still
popular. Like the females, the dirty anorak is worn by the male
ned but is sometimes absent, in which case we are treated to the
spectacle of the football top. Thoughts of football and possibly
cars occupy the remaining brain cells not given over to the areas
of dogs, drink, fighting pointlessly and whining pitifully.

Sometimes, all of Catrine ned’s brain cells can be simultaneously
active, especially on a weekend evening after a ‘wee shmoke and
a bevy’ (small amount of cannabis and some alcohol) resulting in
some spectacular and confusing altercations as the bewildered
neds make their way home from their drinking dens. Innocent
people are often attacked as are, somewhat bizarrely, inanimate
objects such as bus stops and lampposts. These violent rages
would seem to be the result of extreme disorientation as their
tiny brains try to cope with thoughts of dogs, football, cars and
drink all at the same time.

Set as it is amid the once pleasant, rolling, verdant topography of the
Scottish lowlands, the people of Catrine inherited a place of
beauty and peace. Sadly, they have created a place of filth, noise,
greed, violence and ignorance. And truth be told, it’s largely
their own fault.

Otherwise known as Scumdee. There are chavs of all ages found throughout the `City of Discovery`. Baby chavs wearing Lacoste tracksuits, Timberlands and with a 15 year old mother pushing it, when she`s either wearing leggings with a Lacoste hoodie left in her house last night by somebody or nicked off her brother who`s in the jail. Or, the almost 30 year old grandmother who`s progressed to trackies worn with a lacoste top.Babies are named things like “Ricki-lee”, “Chenise”, “Jordan”,”Britney” for girls or “Jordan”,”Tyson”,”Harley”,”Brooklyn”.  There`s even pensioner chavs who wander the streets of Dundee dressed in a Lacoste / Kappa / Adidas / Reebok combo, often flooging the tele (local paper). Dundee`s full of Jakeys. It has the highest teenage pregnancy rate in Europe. There are groups of chavs amongst chavs. The Wellgate Shopping centre is packed full of Chavs, and there is a three level Donnay Sports shop in the Overgate where Chavs can get a full outfit for under £20 (or even better for them, nick it). The Sherrif court is filled to the rafters with chavs .