Archive for the ‘Merseyside’ Category

Liverpool – Toxteth

Aug
18

I had the misfortune of living in Toxteh -actually an area called ‘Canning’ which the city tried to promote as the ‘Georgian Quarter’ due to the 19th century houses. A lot of people who lived in Canning tried to pretend that it wasn’t Toxteth, but it was.
Oh my god, what a shithole. It’s a very high crime area, with way above average burglaries, robberies and vehicle crime. There was way more drug use and prostitution than in other cities i have lived in in the UK.
The locals (black and white) are a bunch of complaining, lazy, brain dead, dirty, twats. I have never known people to be more self obsessed and inward looking. Toxteth is like the archetypal ‘village’ with its inhabitants hating outsiders and change and with none of them having more than about 2 brain cells to rub together.
And don’t get me started on their self pitying-just google the dead baby/chicken fetus story. What a bunch of morons-i really hated living there and i have lived in many cities around the UK, including London, Birmingham, Bristol and Leeds and none of their inhabitants have the self obsessed, self pitying attitude that scousers do. And so many scousers are thieves-you have really got to have your wits about you or you WILL end up a victim of crime, as i was several times.
In Liverpool if you really want to be unpopular, just say ‘job’ . Most scousers are totally resistant to working for a living and many think that they have a right to benefits, even if they, and their families, have never worked a day in their life. Of course they can’t manage on benefits (get to get the money for the fags, booze and plasma TV from somewhere) so they are invariably involved in crime to supplement their benefit ‘income’
Bunch of losers-and i am afraid that i would have to apply the above to nearly all the people in Liverpool, though i do appreciate that some scousers are decent. No wonder so many leave this shit hole of a city-including ALL celebrities.
God i will never return to that place-it gives me nightmares,

St Helens

Jun
28

Never have I ever came across a town as chavvy, horrible and bitter as St Helens. They do everything in their power to try and be scouse, and fail miserably due to their downright disgraceful accent and their awful dress sense. Dirty Kappa trainers, Gola Trackies, Mckensie, Henleys, Hi-Tech. Name any awful make, I can guarantee I have seen it in St Helens. They absolutely despise us scousers, so they say in their own small, unknown town, but once in Liverpool, they walk round with their heads down scared to say a word. I can honestly say, they are the biggest flappers in the world, and only act hard when in a big group in their own town.

Complete and utter scum of the earth, with the biggest chip on their shoulder about scousers. The place should seriously be nuked.

Liverpool

Jun
28

On the surface, many rants about Liverpool seem simplistic: scallies causing more than their fair share of trouble, a general lack of respect between younger and older generations, the prevalence of drug and alcohol addiction – all of these on the surface seem like a recipe for a terrible place to live: but the problem is much more serious than that, in the sense that this city will grind you down and destroy the person that you are if you are not careful, as anyone who does not conform to the abhorrent ideals of what it means to be a citizen of Liverpool (which I will go into later) and is in contact with the undesirable enforcers of these rules, which happen to be a minority of tracksuit-clad youths of around 25 and under – just like World War One: if you put your head over the parapet, you will be gunned down. Whether it is your self-esteem, your confidence, your enthusiasm for life – you must surrender it to survive.

For a city with such a long and glorious history of wealth, ingenuity and hard work, Liverpool is socially in decline – though there are many shining examples of why Liverpool is considered by some a success – for many unfortunate people, such as myself, Liverpool is like an obstacle course whereby one must continually dodge the scum that litter the street corners and shopping rows of even reputable areas in order to go about ones daily business.

At this point I must say that not all youths are as I describe in Liverpool – quite the opposite in fact – this is a case where around 9/10ths of the people in the city are honest, decent, helpful, friendly and kind, and this applies to both younger and older people in the city who for the most part would tie themselves in knots to help their fellow man – this is focused about the remaining tenth, who see fit to terrorise and ruin, who see no repercussions in their actions and who see difference as a threat. This minority is what you will encounter most often in the city, known locally as “scallies,” they are instantly recognisable by their uniform of branded tracksuits and branded trainers, their propensity to hurl abuse or objects at individuals on a whim and their general inconsideration for the rest of the world; whether it be graffiting, smoking drugs, robbery or assault (or any combination thereof) it is all neatly packed into their repetoire.

The major problem with scallies is “escalation.” This is where any retaliation to their ills leads to ever increasing problems – a large amount of violent crime in Liverpool stems from such escalation, where even simple tiffs on the street can build up to stabbings and shootings with alarming momentum. Communicating with the Police is a problem too – anyone seen to do that (even if it is in their own benefit to do so) is labelled a “grass” and further escalation ensues. The crime detection rate in Merseyside is less than 40%, showing that this damaging behaviour is ingrained in the local culture – law abiding citizens are left in fear of what may happen if they try to protect themselves.

Scallies love to target people who aren’t like them, or to put it another way, people who will not fight back – particularly if they outnumber you, so on the off-chance that they accidentally abuse someone who would plant them in the ground, they always have the “safety in numbers” approach – you will never encounter an individual scally who will flex his proverbial muscles, they will always wait for backup.

I suppose I could ask: “How did it get like this?” When did we get to the point where children and grown adults of all shapes and sizes came off second-best to adolescent punks? The answer is quite complex really – people who shouldn’t be having kids are having them both early and numerous: alcoholic, drug-abusing people seem to attract each other in Liverpool like flies to horse dung and bump their benefits up with a child or two: never mind the kid’s welfare when the local off-license has an offer on. Pregnant women smoking is another fine sight in this fair city, even I was surprised at the amount I have seen this week alone. These fine examples of parenting give birth to God’s little angels and let them roam the streets until all hours – childhood mischief turns into anti-social behaviour or criminal activity easily with no strong parental role model available. Couple this with dismally low performance at schools for such offspring (“why work hard when my dad gets paid to sit on his arse anyway”, or “trying makes my brain hurt so I’ll throw a tantrum instead”) and you are left with a generation of people who are exisitng in a veritable vaccum of knowledge and self-esteem, assuming the lazy parents are too wasted to give their kids a hug once in a while.

This is a sure-fire recipe for young alcoholism, teen pregnancy, dole scroungers and best of all, the scally. The king of his own universe (even if it is only outside a chippy) who will enforce his rule on all unsuspecting passers-by. Who knows only hate, and not love, and by terrorising indescriminately succeeds, by sheer volume, to have adults on the back foot. That, and the law makes them practically invulnerable to punishment – I get assaulted, they get an ASBO or an “electronic tag,” and I get labelled a grass for going to the police; I physically defend myself and it’s jail time for assaulting a minor.

To those amazing parents out there in Liverpool who love their children and each other, who read to them and spend all their time nurturing and caring for them, I thank you: you make all the difference. I hope your generation re-adresses the balance in this once great city. To all the young people who are reading this going “None of this applies to me!” then thank you for taking the time to read what I have had to say, I hope that at least some of this has resonated with you. To any scallies reading this who are saying “This guy’s a faggot and I’m steaming mad!” or whatever you say these days, I hope you can see just what this city thinks of people like you, and know that your time will come to an end one day soon. To those who have been on the recieving end of the abuse and torment, I say this, BE confident, BE enthusiastic, BE AN INDIVIDUAL! Above all, you know in your heart what the best course of action is when you are in contact with these little thugs. HINT – it’s not hitting them over the head with a cricket bat (as they are far too big to conceal in your coat!)

Kirkby – the bastard cousin of Liverpool

Apr
10

Years and years and years ago – in the 1960s, the local council realised that Liverpool was getting overcrowded with people and subsequently picked a random few acres of bog land and fields to build a new town on….ladies and gentlemen…welcome to Kirkby!

WHERE IS IT?
Four or five miles North East of Liverpool, just off the infamous East Lancs Road.

WHATS THERE?
Crime ridden shit hole areas such as Westvale, Northwood, Tower Hill and Southdene…and the “posh part” Melling.

THE TOWN CENTRE (KNOWN AS THE TOWNIE)
Think of hundreds and hundreds of rough-arse housing estates surrounding a rough arse town centre and your getting close. Kirkby has it all, Knowsley College where platoons of 11year old scallies roam around thinking their hard because they wear rigger boots and have shitty overalls, millions of orange-faced, PJ wearing single mums with fags hanging from their lips whilst little Chantelle and Tyler clutch a cold pasty from Greggs!

In the shopping centre, bone-idle scallies sit on the benches sporting Lacoste tracksuits and the obligatory black Reebok “whats happinin kidda” “is right lad” “innit lad” Doberman and Staffs are an optional extra.
The town centre is blessed with several drinking establishments – notably Wetherspoons where the same `faces` have been drinking everyday from 10am since 1999 when it opened. Same seats every day, no variation – a quick trip the bookies, back for a pint of mild, back the bookies “Pint of John Smiths girl”
Fat-necked gobshites in white t-shirts and black cardigans play the fruit machines intently – only stopping to barge outside to answer there £400 mobile phones, “lad, yeah lad, is right lad, bang on lad, in a bit lad”

4pm is college letting out time – mayhem at the bus station where people trample each other to board buses “der’s a fookin queue here girl” – “ay lad canna ger on with a pram on da bus” “do you go down park brow lad”

Oddly, they say people from Kirkby love the place – famous residents like Margie Clark, Phil Thompson and the like swear by it…..

Funny really, the rest of us hate it.

birkenhead…

Apr
10

haha,
no matter what people say, birkenhead is fucked.
yeahh afterr 13 yearss heree i’d say it was near chav central (liverpool)
sorry guyss.
go to birkenhead park for one, and you get stalked by an 8 year old in a trackie hiding behind trees when you can blatently see him ^.^
&& don’t be scared of the girl walkin down the road goin “oh hiya beckyy. god i aint seen you in ages”  while you try an explain you aint becky and that she’s stoned out of her mind.
not to mention what they like to call devonshire place, when really its just an expensive bit of birkenhead marked with the school of birkenhead high, where you get bullied to death and worked up to be top of the leader board in everything,
that’s when you go to a school like devonshire park pimary, by tranmere rovers, where you find, wow. life doesnt have to be that good/shit (which ever you think looks better)
the local priamry school trains you up to be a vicious chav, with a head teacher from liverpool, who aint ever heard of the 11+ and fails you at life,
but thats just the way it goess.
then you get stuck in wirral willy grabberss, when you think its obv a better name than prenton pram pushers.
aha. that school teaches you to be a right chav,
and wirral is a mixx.
chav chav chav emo chav normal chav emo chav chav chav indie.
yeahh i went theree.
love ma form and the school and that but it’s like chav vs. chav 24/7
yeahh. police called in when jess d says shit on the girls in our form,
starts takin the mick out of us at the dance show rehearsals,
when she’s break dancin to abba.
hahaaaa.
ohhh and dont try walkin round rock ferry in a hurry.
it’s a replica of birkanheadd totally.
dont go to birknehead north, you’re sure to be deadd.
try not to stand outtt, or look exactly the samee “why the fuck are you wearin the same trackie as me?”
then you get caught as the odd one out when you dont have a lighter on you cos they all want a fag.
don’t sit at the back of the bus by all means.
you get done in with chav music blarin outt, but the bus driver is shit scared to say anythin, when they’ve got 3 baseball bats and a crowwbarr.
oh yeah cos they is well ‘ard,
erm.. no.
don’t go down woodside end by the town hall.
you are dead before you know itt.
just try not to walk round birkenhead at night fullstop.
you’ll either get beaten up, shot, stabbed or chucked on a bonfire.
no jokes there guyss.
and when they say, oh yeah birkenhead is getting to be a better place, they mean, there is more trouble and it’s more exciting if you’re a chav runnin’ from the police :)
yeahh. i know my town well.
when someone says do you wanna buy this, you run before they pull out a knife and threaten you.
and when someone says “you’ve been pickin on my little brother”
you run, don’t look back or say anything, and try and find someone you can get help from.
not ya mate who’s already half way down the road near the bus station getting his day ticket outt!!
and try to avoid the pyramids shopping center.
one step out of line can get you barred for life ;)
learn from experience bub.
so yeahh. tbhhh. dont go to birkenheadd love.
it’s shit,      (yeah i live theree! “/)
hahahahahahaa..
new visitors aint welcome kayy, (they’ll hunt you down for tea, trust me!)
dont go the arno either.
it’s the same.