My hometown. If im honest, i have fond memories of Maidenhead, although in comparisson to most other parts of the South East, crime being immaculately high, along with drug deals, arguably teenage pregnancies.
Being part of the ‘Royal Borough’, the standards evidently would be of high to those visiting; however, as many have witnessed, taking a walk through our town centre, the Daily Mail have mentioned of it as being one of the most ‘rundown, ghostly’ and rough places in the country. Around 25% of buildings are empty or building up, most honestly since the recession.
For a town of its small size, Maidenhead has so many ‘scumbags’, kids i have seen as young as 8 or 9 smoking weed, or original cigarettes. ASBO trouble is on the rife as well as teenage pregnancies. Crime also is high, with stabbings and assalts regular, and urban dictionary describes our town by night as a ‘warzone’, and with Slough up the road not helping our troubles.

Originally an affleunt area, however in the last 7-10 years, poverty has icreased massively. over 600 families out of 60,000 people are on the bredline, with limited opportunities for youth, with work etc. This town is not the place to be, i have witnessed alot growing up here, drug deals on the day, assalts, and robbery on the many rundown estates possessed.

Certainly not the worst, howver, not the best. Ghostown? hmm think about it!
By: Roger Haxwell

I have lived in Crowthorne for over 5 years and despite the hospital, 99% of Crowthorne is actually quite beautiful and serene. However, the changes i have seen are horrendous and sometimes i feel i would be safer within the hospital walls than out on Napier Road and Crowthorne high street. I have the misfortune of living close by. I blame Lidl for the advent of the Crowthorne Chav.

In Crowthorne there are 2 distinct stages of Chavness, stage 1, the junior chavs with scooters that they race at 2 am who hang out in the village green at the old library. stage 2 fully fledged chavs that have “pimped up motors” that they race until 3am. A lot of these unruly, unsavoury characters are heavily outsourced by the Crowthorne Inn from Bracknell, Yateley,and other surrounding areas. The only locals are strong contingent of gypsies from goodness knows where that is growing by the day.

The average age of the punters is 14-19. with a spattering of a few haggard old alcoholics, and some depressed hospital staff. They are mostly gyspies. (im not sure if thats an insulting term but i can not keep typing travelling community types, ) from 1st of May, the merest hint of sunlight the boys all go topless and flex their skinny limbs at each other while thy fall about in under age drunken stupor. in their heavily gelled and spiked or completely shaved hair, they shout at evry girl passing by despite being with their obnoxious and incredibly loud girls who may as well be topless. It’s like a cher loyd explosion of cropped tracksuit bottoms, bleached hair ,hoop earings and exposed bellies. They are rude, abrasive brash incessant smokers drinking beer on the street while they argue on their mobile phones about evrything in very clear lurid detail,or blast music on their car stereos. The police did a drug raid last weekend that was when i knew it’s time to go. They argue about everything until 3am any day of the week. They congregate on the bench outside the Co-op and smoke goodness knows what..

The village has become incredibly diverse, but the saving grace is most people will politely get on with their business. We all try to ignore the Llyods bank break in, a somerfield window being smashed thus neccesiting a metal cover at night, a couple of arson related forest fires, and hope that the opening of Costa will chase away the uncouth youth.

By: Lula

Oi uze lots, takin da pis outer Brakenel likez! Wez willz sort uz all out n’all if use dontt f**k of n’all! Now werez dat f**kin ice cram van agan mete cuz i wantz a whipy mete!

Welcome to Bracknell, a town that beautifully represents the urban decay and socialogical downfall within the United Kingdom. As the rest of the area modernised and big business moved in an entire class has been left behind with nothing to do except trim hedges, pave drives and steal lawnmowers. The scum that remain fill their time with drugs, pregnancy and petty crime and some where between these find time for an occasional visit to the benefits office. Bracknell chavs are all huge fans of ‘rap music’ and appear to have encorporated this into their newfound ‘rudboi’ accents almost to the point at which you cannot understand them. The height of most Bracknell chavs careers is selling a few bags of dope, buying an XR3i and then being promptly arrested for dangerous driving and drug dealing. The underclass of Bracknell appear to be very chuffed with their existence and would like to take this opportunity to point out:

1. You’re not smart, you’re f**king stupid.
2. Your benefits are about to be cut by the right wing government so get a job.
3. Get some decent clothes and shoes because you all look like clowns.
4. Good luck with the future because you don’t have one.



Bracknell has been awarded a prestigious prize as Englands ‘Town of the Year’.

“We have all been working towards this and are all so proud of the result”.

Some however have questioned the award, with even one resident of a nearby competing town claiming ‘I don’t think the person who gave the award has ever visited Bracknell because he would be dead’. Famous for once being used as a post apocalyptic backdrop in the Dr Who Series some people have said Bracknell is an ‘eyesore’ and was more economically advanced when it was still a forest. ’The only thing that comes out of Bracknell is dog s**t – and I mean alot’. Some Reading University intellectuals have claimed that much can be learnt from Bracknell, especially its residents. One leading scholar has been attempting to learn the highly technical language and gave us an example:

‘Yo manz wot b duwn n’al likez ha uz got ma sum of da crak or splif blud yeh swet muh sefe na kredt un ma fon sknt lik wen z za fukn gyro dy needz ma fukn benefts bruv gt ut ma fukn crib mete srts u al ot if uz dnt fk yrselvs n ur mum n’all.’ 

The area is soon to be deemed a national heritage site along with the likes of Stone Henge. ‘We would not like such a gemstone like this to be ruined by the free market and neo-liberal consumerism.’ After genetic testing of the local inhabitants its was noticed that they are 100% more likely to become pregnant before reaching the age of 16. One person said ‘its not f**king genetics – its just what you would expect of the underclass of modern Britain.’

Attention has now turned towards next years awards and nearby towns, most notably Aldershot, appear to be rising to the challenge. ‘Our squaddies are much tougher than your average Bracknell c**t and were coming to kick their f**king ass’.

I lived in many places in the north and south of England during my three decades of existence but none prepared me for the lack of humanity I would experience in Reading. Even some of the ex northern mill towns with an air of no hope, no employment or point to existence demonstrated a more positive environment in which to reside.

During my research prior to moving to this area I was informed of certain cess pools to avoid e.g. Whitley, so believed I would be able to live in a reasonably harmonious environment. We, and by ‘we’ I’m referring to my girlfriend and I, moved to Caversham which for those that don’t know, is referred to by some as the posh part of Reading. What could go wrong? We had done our research, found a small flat said to be in the better area and were looking forward to experiencing another part of Great Britain! Apparently my girlfriend wouldn’t get attacked walking to and from the train station if we lived in Caversham, as advised by an esate agent; how lovely!

Over the following 2 years living in at the bottom of Caversham five minutes walk away from what we had hoped to be a large chav moat (the river Thames) we worked long hours and were afforded what can only be described as a live soap opera being played out in the local vicinity. Joy riding, open drug dealing, LOTS of theft, LOTS of vandalism (including my car twice), 2 murders, several attacks/rapes and more instances of scroats running away from the police then I care to remember. Its no wonder council tax is so high when the police helicopter and army of police are permanently dealing with weapons grade arseholes with no sense of reason. One of the many times I interacted with the police they informed me “even if we bang up this generation, the next generation will only take their place” – great!

I finished the project I was currently working on and this left a small window to move. As my girlfriend still requires good train links into London we moved into a ‘quiet’ estate called Caversham Park Village. I knew a chap who lived in the area so asked him what it was like and he said mainly good. I had a walk around on Friday and Saturday night to see what it was like; all was quiet….ahhh bliss!

Well, suffice to say the peace didn’t last long. While the area itself is reasonable with families who at least work, there is a scheme of pepper-potting in the area which we have been unlucky enough to be subjected to. For those that don’t know, pepper potting is when a council take troubled families and house them in the better areas in an attempt to expose them to correct behavior e.g. not shouting everything you wish to communicate, not stabbing someone because they didn’t cook the roast the way you like it and not stealing other peoples property because “we aint got that” and you feel hard done by because your giro doesn’t cover 50” plasma screens.

The family that has been housed next door (3 bedroom semi detached) was so proud of having their fifth child. Alarm bells started ringing when I discovered the various kids were prefixing their dads name with his first name. Yes that right each child had a different farther. 12 months later after 11 domestics which the police attended, one incident of someone outside the family employing two ex drug dealers to come and try and stab the family in there sleep and a constant bombardment of abuse aimed at the children (don’t worry social services are involved, they even brought flowers), the latest, “daddy Gary” has left leaving his emotional chav slob of a partner alone with 5 kids. I barely know what to say other than we will be moving again. No words can describe the utter sham that is that ‘family unit’.

The obvious question of “why did you stay so long” is simple; we work long hours and need to get into London easily. These are the only two valid reasons for living in Reading.

Don’t believe anyone who talks about “all areas have their problems”. Yes, they do, but Reading in general is a complete shit hole and “Chavasham” isn’t better.

The only area that is nice is Caversham Heights but anyone hoping to move there will need at least 400k to fend off any pepper potting.

You would think with the Council Tax we pay to protect the Queen up the road at Windsor we would be posh and chav free. Oh, heaven forbid no. I unfortunatley got thrown by circumstance to a six month sentence on the downside of Maidenhead. The wrong side of the tracks literally.

Maidenhead has some fine area’s of pikeydom which are estates that the German Luftwaffe (for any chavs reading that is the German Airforce in the war, ok) missed. Ironically with the names of The Bomber Estate, Lancaster and Halifax Road and the less celebrated area i die in called The Larchfield Estate. Life is a prison term here.

Passtimes include riding motorised lawnmowers down the hideous walkway called the gullet where i often get abused by kids. St George’s flags are hung from windows despite the World Cup being finished ages ago and general pikeydom entertainment is the domestics you hear on the estate “Chell, let i in, Chell” when the donor has had a few too many sherberts.

In town is more fun with the centrepoint being Muck Donalds and the shopping mall. The prospects of getting abuse are high but fortunatley we have a local Police force none to keen on chavs and most times you see them is with the Police in pursuit. As for pubs forget it. It’s all theme fun pubs/clubs that have competitions like Dance Like a Queer for Beer (true).

Maidenhead is really the poor relative of Slough where locals have nothing on the gun culture of our brothers up the road. I don’t think they bother with Chavs in Slough and go straight int gangland feuds and people from Maidenhead never venture there.

Chavleveller (soon to be leaving Maidenhead)

Wokingham may well not be 100% chav yet, but it is certainly on the way down towards the ranks of Dover and Croydon. Let me tell you about my school, the beautiful St. Crispins with its bright yellow outdoor decor. 2004, I had a german exchange partner over in england. I was witness to a very very strange thing. For some reason, the obvious ‘Heil hitler’ shouts and nazi salutes that generally occupy the school during german Exchange week had got a bit boring. Thusforth, about 45 chavs formed a very large circle around our little area of benches and proceeded to hurl stones and 2p coins at us for what must have been a solid 5 minutes. Obviously we managed to shelter inside eventually, but it is a genuinely scary sight. it was funny though because some of the chavettes fancied my german exchange guy and proceeded to flirt with him in a way only a chavette can (Top practically undone, attempted sexy voice).

Another thing that has recently been in national news was that a boy in my year (10) was stabbed. A year 9 boy had brought a kitchen knife in from school and proceeded to stab this boy twice in the back. When he turned around, he got 2 stabs in the face. Also, my school recently produced a double murderer. he murdered 2 boys in an alley at night. That was f**ked up.

Another strange thing is that chavs smaller than normal people appear to have become over-confident. I was walking home from scool one day wioth a group of 6 friends to have some little year 7 shit and his amazingly short and fat friend throw a pen at my head. I thought nothing of it and walked on. Only to have a stone thrown at my head. that was it. i turned round and shouted ‘What the f**k was that in aid of!?’. The dirty little crap said to me ‘Yoo fuckin know why yoo fuckin daft c**t. You wont look so pretty tomorrow unlike yer mum’ ETC. So we went our separate ways and i got home unscathed. Next day, i’m walking home. This little guy is Half-Cast so he thinks he has an excuse for this. He runs (or waddles, my f**king god he was fat) up to my friend, pushing him and calling him a racist. We all shouted him ‘He didn’t f**king do anything!!’ So he eventually f**ked off. next thing i knew, he jumped out of an alley and doused me in Panda Pop, the biggest chav drink and nastiest sugary syrup shit sold.

I was satisfied though, because tomorrow someone had told on him for something and i saw him on litter picking duty at lunch and after school.

Well, where can you start!!!!
Bracknell, one of the worst places to get mugged in England or RAPED, as recent events and the news have shown. It’s dirty, grimy, chavvy and you’re the local hero, if you pass A you’re GCSE or ,maybe even college, but don’t go to far. The part of Harmans Water is where you get beaten up for looking simply at a lamp-post. Property is hard to find once you want to move out of the council flat, as youre windows are broken and the pigeons keep on flying in shitting on you’re car boot sale sofa.
You’ve seen nothing like Great Hollands, just mentioning the name screws you up!!
As you can see, “Bracknell, well worth a visit!”, according to the mayor.