oh well,i’am trying to waste so much of my valuable time on the prehistoric pond life excrement that loiters in aylesbury.
whilst born and raised in the southcourt area,the observations on previous post are very much 99% correct.
the biggest empolyers in the town are the chavs and chavettes.whilst getting up for a days work of robbing,drug dealing and intimidation.
living on diets of wifebeater,skunk,and smack.all paid for by the working public.it is local folk ledgend that all orders over 30 quid in smack or skunk will be beliverd free of charge by some inept (travel company).
how we all should be glad to there employees,as they get us to do the graft,for them to reap the benifits.
but southcourt,is not the only area….walton court,elmhurst,etc.
as the summer months approach,what a delight.how i miss the lightness of the dark.burning rubbish bins,cars,and the occassional asian shopkeeper stating that it was a racist attack.

There are, like most places, two sides to this area of the Chilterns. The difference being, however, that they are actually physically separated by an almost steryotypical structure. The motorway bridge.

Though being a collection of villages rather than a town, Lane End and its surrounding Areas show just the sort of contrast and filthy overspill that seems rife in this country today.

My place of residence, just outside of Lane End is a lovely, quiet and thoroughly peaceful place, boasting two commons and some fine scenery. However, come with me on a walk through one of these commons and witness for yourself the reason why I have seen it fit to post an article here.

Wandering past the Chequers pub, where you will no doubt see a gang of obese, acne-ridden teenage mothers blowing smoke in their offsprings faces, you will see in front of you a bridge. It extends over a flaming river of hot lava, guarded by harpies with hair-cuts that look like a blonde badger has taken it upon itself to stand on its hind legs, grow thumbs and dress itself in sports clothing. To cross this bridge into Lane End is a daunting process, usually passing a cut-price hooded grim reaper on a shit bike and recieveing copious amounts of abuse from said party. after making it over to the other side, see the yellowing grass, graffiti’d road signs and the rusted hulk of the electricity box peeking its ugly head from behind some brick-wheeled cars. turn left now and come closer to the gates of hell. “congregation corner” is up next, opposite the quite frankly appalling “cans” off license, where you can bear witness to such jolly advertisement campaigns as “Wine, 3 bottles £5″ and “VODKA, £2.50″. This is where most muggings occur, as well as the occasional light-hearted setting someone on fire. I shit you not. An endless stream of cars come out of the estate to park in the lay-by to drop their staggering cargo into the offie for a refill. As many as fifty chavs can gather on the corner outside the estate, smashing car windows and doing “doughnuts” on their hairdryers, bawling any number of badly structured insults at anyone who isn’t standing right next to them, right at that moment.

I could continue into the estate at this point but, fearing for my life, I return home, only to find a crate’s worth of empty white star cans on my front lawn, and the same volume of stella cans on the grass verge. to make matters worse, I’ve been f**king burgled. That’s right, from time to time the estate residents like to branch off from their festering, inbred spawning grounds and cause mayhem in otherwise nice areas. The other week a gang of pikeys started squatting in a pub that had been closed down. Shortly after the news that they had moved in, there were of course a speight of robberies. Add this to the fact the local area of outstanding natural beauty has been turned into a make-shift mini dirtbike racing circuit and handy fly-tipping site and you’ve got yourself a corker of a place, don’t you agree?

due to the lack of funds to holiday somewhere exotic like indonesia or comoros, i recently got myself a zone 1-6D travelcard and a few bus/rail tickets to tour the area west of london.

it started off great. slough has the most spendiferous selection of hot chicks. gangs of cute chinese girls, the most awesome-looking filipinas, gorgeous indian girls everywhere, with the non-asian girls equally ravishing.
continuing through scenic towns like henley-on-thames, then heading northwards towards amersham, i thought i was in for a lovely quiet journey through green landscapes and pretty little villages.

then, at the top of the hill just before high wycombe a tall, skinny, druggie-looking chav complete with prototype mannerisms and chavalicious fashion sense entered the bus, greeting the ageing driver with a loud but friendly “safe boss”. he continued to harrass the driver with helpful statements such as “come ON, buddy!”, “get on with it bruv”. i’m not quite sure why this unemployed loafer was in such a hurry, but the driver took no notice of him.

to my surprise the whole place, and it’s a pretty hideous-looking place too, was completely infested with these kevs, whether it be the tall skinny druggie variety or the short, neat, slimy-looking ones with chav attitude to match even the most ridiculous essex lads.
what makes high wycombe a chav capital with a difference is the fact that it has retained some of that good ole thing called “ragga”.
i saw man-o-man walking the streets in a late 80s stylee, as spotted in lewisham 1989, and there were indications of high wycombe moving up the mixed-race ranking list too. the place may not yet be approaching mixed-race capitals like shottingham or croydon, but it’s already there, in SPIRIT.
the white dudes walking around the place reminded me very much of your stereotypical bus-jacking, house-theiving mixed-race skunk dealer found in ladbroke grove during the mid-90s.

so what’s stopping high wycombe from being at the very pinnacle of chavdom? well.. please correct me if i’m wrong, but the high wycombe LADIES still have some way to go before they reach the 13-year-old pram-pushing status of the loud, crazy and totally out-of-control chavettes hanging around the run-down pikey shithole that is Tilbury.

Ahhh, Chesham, My lovely hometown..

If you’ve ever been there you will know what a nice little town it is. Nestled in the countryside, yet only half an hour away from the outskirts of the Capital…
Yes, the town itself is not a bad little town.

However, there is a dark side.. I’[ve lived in Chesham my whole life so far (nearly 19 years) and although I love my town, the people in it are not so respectable.

Take a typical Friday night. Most Chavs/Chavettes will start off in the Red. Playing pool, drinking etc until the time calls for the long walk down the highstreet. The chav blokes in their lonsdale hoodies, cheap jeans and even cheaper aftershave the chav ”laydees” letting it all hang out in a belt of a denim skirt, hair scraped back to reaveal the foundation tide marks beneath the usually gelled strands that hang down their face, a tight lycra top thats low cut and reveals their fat pierced midriffs and of course the tacky black heels that are too big.
Down the the Global they go, to get even more pissed and start fights.

Or you could take a normal Saturday afternoon. Wander around town, look at the shops, grab some lunch, play a game or two of ‘spot the teen chav mother’ which isnt a difficult game as they seem to have a problem with contraception (but, on the flip side, evidently not, as the amount of times I’ve wandered through the park and found used condoms assures me)
I wouldnt go into the park on a Saturday afternoon.

Infact I’m scared to walk my dogs in the evenings up at Lowndes park for fear of being stabbed (I have nearly been stabbed in the park before by our asian friends)
On the up side, atleast gun crime hasnt got here yet…

There are a few famous people that haunt chasham (famous for going in and out of jail, being general slags, fighting or all of the above) Kev Pacey, Gareth Hanchant, The Walker Brothers etc etc etc

Chesham is a shithole, it really is. Chavs and Chavettes starting fights here there and everywhere, 7 year old chavlings smoking and spitting at passers by..
But I s’pose Chesham is my shithole. Its not the town, its the Chavs in it.