Chavtowns – Britain's worst places to live!

i grew up in berwick upon tweed i now live in manchester. berwick is the most depressing miserable place i know. the prople never smileand if your not from there your not welcomem they are scum of the earth up there hope they all rot.  the place is full of 2 faced idiots that cant handle their drink 1 pint and they think they can take the world on til they gob off to a holiday maker then get a real good hammering like they deserve. i left berwick on my own when i was 19 never been back since and dont intend doing so either im 26 now.  i hope alot of berwick people read this you all should be ashamed of yourselves the ones who put me through hell at school and look at me now doing better than the lot of ya i bet.  im ashamed to say to people i come from berwick upon tweed i just say northumberland i dont class berwick as my home town as far as im concerned manchester is. R I P Berwick…… T W.

Ah, Blyth. Situated 15 miles north of Newcastle, along the coast, it has stunning coastline scenery, and a view of the Cheviots and Scottish border to the North West.

But that is where the romance of this town stops………

This town is the chav capital of Northumberland. The sad thing is, i reckon most of the ‘natives’ would actually be quite proud of it too!

Local amenities are few, the focal point for chav gathering is the market square, they you can see many chavs and chavettes, with their uniform of lonsdale, addidas tracksuit bottoms, (tuck into their socks), caps and scruffy trainers hanging around smoking tabs. The focal point is greggs the baker, where many unmarried overweight chavettes with their 4 kids, (of course all by different dads) stand with their prams eating pasties and pies and talking to fellow chav/chavettes. If the weather turns fear not they have the ‘shopping centre’ called the Keel Row.

The Keel Row contain many discount shops, which attract the chav’s, often seen looking for new mobile phone covers, or a cheap piece of bling. The large shopping companies, have obviously seen there is no money in Blyth, hence they are all absent from here! If you are lucky you may actually see a Chav in here working, what fun to be served by someone with a reading age of 18 months, and a dependency on smack!

Blyth had many drug deaths in the 90′s , sadly the chav’s have not learnt from their history. a common sight is some scruffy fuckwit trying to sell you knocked off gear for a fix. The local rag is always full of drug busts and chav’s who have got so spaced out, they have attacked their Grandmother etc etc., as well as a ‘who’s who of ASBO’

In this crap hole, it is hard for the chav to find a meaningful career and ordered life. There is a Mcdonalds for those who can spell their name correctly, otherwise its typical chav employment, i.e. folding clothes, packing boxes. However, most chav;s do not want this, so are happy to wait every fortnight for their pay.

Often, chavs can be found down in the local parks, drinking blue pop and cheap wine. As part of chav regulations, they will be a few of them annoying residents with their mini moto bikes and little quads. Chavettes, will be seen getting pissed before the predictable unprotected legover, and nine months later, we have the voucher for that council place.

The town becomes alive every fortnight, when the goverment has to give
Read more »

Ooh Alnwick, such a bizarre place.

Me and my mates went up to Seahouses for the weekend and went for a night out in Alnwick. What a bad idea that turned out to be.
A town so beautiful by day is frightening at night.

We went to a pub near the club we were going to later. We had a choice of two. The first had lots of chavs outside so we opted for the nicer looking pub.

What a bizarre place! The first half of the pub is quite nice and everyone looked quite normal then suddenly the carpet stops and the room turns into a social club type thing with a pool table and chavs.

Now the signs were there, that we should lave left, but we ignored them. When we saw a guy staggering through with blood on his top and not a bouncer in sight, that’s when we should have turned and run but no.

Instead a mini brawl kicked off but was soon stopped by bouncers – goodness where they came from.
We thought it was all sorted til some kid (15ish) runs through the pub picks up the pool cue, smashes it on the pool table and tried to attack a guy in his 40′s.
Beer was spiling all over the pool table and I was mesmerised by it (thinking somebody should pick it up, I think weird stuff when I’m drunk) until a bar stool went flying past my head. My friends saw what was happening and dragged me through a door just as 15 people came crashing against it.
It was a full on wild west style bar brawl. Turns out 3 families had christenings on the same day and none of them get on, or something like that.

After this we went to the club, dodgy place if ever there was one. I don’t scare easy but this place had me stood stock still incase I nudged the wrong person. Especialy the troll like woman walking round with greasy hair, arms like a boxer and eyes rolling round the back of her head.

It was in this establishment we met a lad called Kev. At the end of the night he asked us to watch him. He stood on the chairs and started dancing, the bouncer told him to get down but he refused, so the bouncer grabbed his tie (he’d been to a christening) and instructed him to get down once more. Kev still refused so the bouncer grabbed him and threw him to the floor sending a table and bottles flying all over. He then dragged him across the floor and threw him out.

When we saw Kev outside he was so proud of himself, it was his weekly trick and the quickest he’d been kicked out at the time, his goal for the evening was get ‘Tonto’, get chucked out!

Thankyou Kev for providing our evenings entertainment!