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Archive for the ‘Oxfordshire’ Category

Oxford (Yes, the ugly truth revealed!)

Posted on: January 24th, 2012 by admin No Comments

Ah, Oxford.  Land of dreaming spires and colleges abound.  Posh was born here.  Intellectual, civilized, affluent……What they don’t tell you is the enormous disparity between areas.  The gap between the rich and the poor is so huge the teeny tiny middle class just fall right in it.  Actually, they are continuously forced out of the area as there is no housing whatsoever in any decent areas unless you are very wealthy. 

That’s what you get in Oxford.  Extremely rich, or chavs.  There are no normal people here.

As it is a college town the university runs the show.  If you don’t happen to be affiliated with it, then you are just sort of there, like a side show.  Town and gown indeed.  There is no longer a town.

All of the housing is overwhelmingly for students.  All of the family homes have been converted into flats, and neighbourhoods are slowly transformed into party areas for the young and chavs.

The prices are so inflated it’s a wonder anyone can survive here at all.  You can’t, that’s why many are having to leave to nearby villages, or relocate to another part of Britain entirely.

If you have children, do not come to Oxford.  Unless you are rich of course, but frankly, we’ve had our fill of you and the chavs and students.

It is the most child unfriendly place for those of us who are not wealthy.  Every primary school, rather than being surrounded by family houses, is surrounded by flats full of students and parents are forced to have to drive their kids back and forth day and night, adding to the already horrendous traffic congestion that exists here.  Traffic is so bad, it’s a joke.  Let’s put it this way: If you take a bus to Reading, it takes about and hour.  If you try to get from one side of Oxford to another, you’re lucky if it takes less than an hour.  Endless streams of cars are driving down every single road day and night.

If you go out on the town at night, you are likely to find it overrun with biligerant youths who are picking fights, screaming and swearing, breaking things and all manner of mischief well into the morning.  As tourists and townsfolk timidly walk around them trying to ignore it and get on with their business.  Other neighbourhoods have rapes and assaults and shock!  Yes, even murders to contend with. 

You can kiss sleep permanently goodbye.  You will never sleep in Oxford as partying youth are 24/7 here, and every neighbourhood has this youth living in it.  If you call the cops, they will say there’s nothing they can do about it.

Seems like Oxford, along with virtually every other town in Britain, has gone to the dogs.

 

 

By: Em

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Faringdon – Idillic Country Town with a sting in the tail

Posted on: August 6th, 2010 by commentator 9 Comments

As you approach this leafy farm town out in the far west edge of Oxfordshire, you would be forgiven to think that this pretty little market town would be a suitable area to rest your weary head during the out of hours from a busy hectic life.  You would be forgiven, of course, because I made the same (admittedly) poor judgment of Faringdon.

The streets are lined with cottages and townhouses built from Cotswold Stone.  The pubs are as traditional as they get.  The cafe’s have also won awards for their cuisine.  On the face of it, this place seems like country heaven, especially for a city worker who doesn’t mind the (almost) reasonable drive into London.

Once you have been through the processes of buying or renting a property, however, things take a slightly darker turn.  During the day you would think you live in a painting of perfection, but as darkness descends over the Folly the little scroats descend into the marketplace and carpark ready to wreak havoc across every person brave enough to venture out into these cold, dark streets.

Yes, it sounds strange that such a haven for the retired and exhausted could become a nightmare, but once you have experienced the average Friday evening when you attempt to go to Budgens to get those items you forgot on your last big shop, you will understand.  Nestling in the carpark adjacent to the entrance to the shop you will find a small handful of Chav Street Urchins that will heckle your every move and all you will see through the stock-issue Nike Hood is piercing eyes fixated back at you.  As the darkness comes in, the small handful will gradually increase, as will the sound of top quality MP3′s being blasted like a tortured cat from each of their Mobile Phones until eventually they will be eating chips and spitting in droves at passers by.

Nothing ends the evening like a fight and an ambulance or police car, and Faringdon never fails to disappoint here – the sounds of sirens often spell the evening alarm for the local ‘youff’ telling them it is now time for curfew, but only before they have a good peer at what is happening and who will be carted away by either stretcher or cuff.

So, all you migratory city folk beware, Faringdon – as pretty as it is – has an ever increasing Chav population which you will only see at evenings – which is the down side – this is when you are home.

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Didcot…

Posted on: April 15th, 2009 by admin 13 Comments
For anyone searching for the missing link in Darwin’s theory of evolution, I do strongly believe I have found it. All clichés aside, Didcot really is a town filled to the brim with the worst society has to offer. Luckily, having lived in Didcot for over 10 years (I am now 16), I am proud to boast that I can speak fluent chav, and am seriously considering applying to my head of year at school for a GCSE in ‘Chav’ to become available en masse.

Many of the chavs in Didcot attend either St Birinus School (for boys) or Didcot Girls School (for girls). This works, until the girls decide to move themselves to the boys school and flash at the windows when told to go away. Whilst this in itself isn’t necessarily a bad thing, the girls in question are typical Didcot girls – ugly, overfed and often carrying visible marks of street violence.

Which brings me on to my next point. Didcot is probably the most aggresive town in the country. Passengers travelling through the station will often be confronted by the chavs of Didcot jumping onto their trains passing through, often the chavs using the trains are the most violent, and will challenge anyone who does the outrageous task of refusing to give up their seat. This often fuels a change in the Didcot chav – from a fairly placid person who sits and stares, to a aggressive thug who will most probably pull a knife out of a freshly created oriface in their body (no-doubt the mark of another Didcot youth) and brandish it at said commuter. Another favoured method of the Didcot chav is Hitler’s pincer movement. Often, one chav will lure a member of the public into a corner, under the pretence of asking for information. When the ensnaring process is complete, another four or so chavs boxes them in, politely enquiring if they might spare some change for the chavlet, or ask (in no uncertain terms) if they might perhaps purchase some alcohol or cigarettes for the gang.

The third thing the chavs have developed is a low form of cunning, often misinterpreted as intelligence. Their deceptive skills enable them to work out when a person is most vulnerable, and how to attack this person at the peak time. I am fully in favour of quarantineing the entire town to stop this scary prospect from reaching other parts of the country.

The final worry is the ‘chavlet’. A smaller, often yappy younger sibling of a renowned chav. These chavlets are between the ages of 10 and 13, and often are kitted out in Adidas, Nike or Reebok, and will overpower anyone within 10 yards with the scent of teenage desperation mixed with that of a caravan. Chavlets often display the same qualities as an ordinary chav, however they are used in much smaller quantities. I compare them to Weetabix Bitesize. They are often good practice for the larger variety of chav, who use them as bait, tools and most probably sexual favours that they cannot get from their female counterparts.

Hopefully for the sake of th country, Didcot will not continue to expand, and instead implode on itself, causing these people to be dispersed into space, where they can cause as much mischief as they like in the 15 or so seconds before they suffocate…

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Bicester

Posted on: October 7th, 2008 by admin 5 Comments
Bicester is a historic market centre in Oxfordshire, beautiful and interesting as it may seem, there are some hidden truths behind it that are not mentioned in your average newspaper or brochure.
A problem that has plagued Bicester for as long as I can remember are the chavs, the burberry-wearing trouble makers that normally habitate in council houses with half a dozen other siblings. These chavs often linger around chip shops or co-ops in groups of 5-10, yelling or jeering at passers by.
I have been going to school with many of these chavs for nearly 5 years and for all you chav fearing people, I can only suggest not going to places such as sheep street. Sheep street is a brilliant place to go if you want a reasonably priced shopping spree. But chavs are waiting at every corner and alley, many people come to sheep street only to buy a few essentials and have to dread walking through a big crowd of chavs. They enjoy cycling near somerfield or near the methodist church, I am ashamed to say that these crimes against nature attend my school and I apologize for any inconveniences they cause you.
Another “no-go” zone is Bure Park, a fairly large suburb with 3 big mistakes :
1. the co-op
2. the chip shop
3. council houses
It is obvious that whoever thought of putting these things all in the same place had no clue that chavs would make it their headquarters. I rarely go there and the reason for that being the fear of getting the same torment I do at school. Again, many of the chavs who “hang” there attend my school and seeing people they take a dislike to is like a sick twisted sport for them.
You may also think Garth park is a nice place to take your dog for a walk or to sit on a public bench in. But I advise you stay well away from it, having been dragged through the pathway leading through Garth and out next to the courtyard, the only description for it would be a walk to hell and back. I knew as soon as I entered the big metal gates that the chavs would be conquering the skate ramps, but proceeded to walk despite a few of the chavs I knew calling me appaullingly bad names merely because of the way I dressed. I would’ve made a few comments about their cheap “golden” jewellery and baggy trousers myself but figured I was about to argue with the lowest form of intelligence, I advise you only ignore the comments you get or suffer the humiliation of dressing like one of them.
Finally, there is bassette avenue, another chip shop/co-op combination.
This crummy avenue is directly opposite Cooper Secondary school, the school I attend. It also features a pub where the older chavs would go for a pint or two….or three? In fact, the co-op has banned cooper school students from visiting because of the shop-lifters, I immediately thought : the chavs. I have seen them standing in their groups eating chips out of cones and can advise that if you want to rent a movie from blockbusters, do not go to Bassette avenue.
Conclusively, I hope that you have learnt the truth about Bicester and will take extra care when going to these various areas. There are a few more areas I have not mentioned but will suggest you also look out for, these are : Pingle field, Murdock road, Buckingham road and Churchill road.
So enter Bicester at your own risk and look out for the chavs.
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rose hill oxford

Posted on: October 7th, 2008 by admin 3 Comments

its a complete shitole in rose hill. when we lived there in dashwood road, we had fireworks posted through the letter box, our windows bricked every week, our car and minibus torched, my brother stabbed in the front garden and only survived by a whiska, our house burgled 4 times, my son mugged in the front garden and badly beaten with a brick, teens breaking into the house and severely attacking us with bats and bars, our garden set on fire, our pushbike stolen from the shed, someone setting their dog on my 8 year old son, our cat killed by joyriders, our house graffitied on, and our windows egged every day nearly, kids posting grass and mud through the front doors, kids writing ‘packies smell like shit and u r one’ on our cars and fence, our car window smashed by gypos and the wingmirrors kicked off, and lasly, a human shitting poo on our doorstep – no joke! dont go to that shitole.!!!
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