Chavtowns – Britain's worst places to live!

If you have ever payed a visit to North Cornwall then the chances are you have stopped in a town called Wadebridge. Situated roughly about 8 miles or so from it’s closest enemy Padstow (a name which when mentioned around Wadebridge is usually accompanied by a spit on the ground) Wadebridge boasts several shops from Supermarkets like Tesco to Shitmarkets like Lidl, yes Wadebridge has it all even a large Co-op and a cinema. Now at this point you may be thinking “well this doesn’t sound to bad at all I don’t see why you wrote this” well allow me to take you from the highstreet to the Co-op car park. Here we have the first signs of what the locals are complaining about, youngsters on badly tuned mopeds who drive around the car park until the early hours. Amazingly these arn’t stolen mopeds as these youngsters rich parents can afford to buy them mid or top of the range scooters and the necessary tuning kits which they leave there children to install. Cue the sound of broken exhausts, high revs and car wing mirrors being smashed off . Eventually the moped gangs congregate with the walking wastes of space in the skate park where they sit atop the half pipe smoking there overpriced odourless weed and sipping on cans of lidl brand lager or tesco brand cider. At this point we see another gang of youths appear, this group are made up of the towns lower class inhabitants, teenage fathers and aspiring rappers who cannot ryme two words together and are known as the “Wadebridge Boys Massive” one of a few gangs who inhabit the town. This gang has been involved in many of the towns notorious crimes such as stealing from vans, breaking into shops, spray painting the town and worst of all…………. littering. Eventually when the alcohol has dried up and the single mothers have been impregnated again the gang disperses taking with them there stolen goods ready to sell on for drug money the next day because the dole money simply wont cover the expenses.

Right then, where to begin. By being neatly situated in the arse end of nowhere so we get the scum from the outlying villages rolling in (Stoke, Martock, Tintinhull, im looking at you all) and by being a town where all there is to do is grow old and by cheap cider, its  a perfect place for scum to flourish. Its hard to put your finger on exactly whats wrong with Yeovil, but its fair to say its all gone to shit, just glancing at the local papers “Man beaten with own crutch” “11 year old glassed in the face,” it just makes you morbidly depressed when you open the curtains and realise you still live in Yeovil. Ive been called a filthy cunt and had eggs thrown at me just for trying to walk past a group of them, weird thing is that no-one is surprised by it any more. I found three of them near paralytic at the bus station just after midday, its a classy place, but this has been an issue for so long that its just accepted as “the yeovil way.” Its a problem that doesnt look like being solved anytime soon either, over christmas there was a police drive to stop large gangs of them forming over the St Johns side of town, and all things considered it was a resounding success, but the drive was stopped midway through January, and now im “proud” to say that the problems back. Its not as if there are problems relatively confined to one place, it seems to be all over the town, Westfield, Abbey Manor, College Green, Goldcroft, West Hendford, Chelston Avenue, Southville, Hendford, Cavalier Way not forgetting to mention all of the town centre (notably the beach) and every single park and patch of green in this god forsaken hell hole. Quite a reasonable plan is to wait for Sportsworld to reach its busiest, lock the doors, let them fight it out then call it natural selection. The Yeovil gene pool needs a little chlorine.

Swindon has continued it’s decline as the arse-pit of England, most notably thanks to Swindon Borough council, who have accelerated Chav breeding with their countless hair-brained schemes.   The most obvious being the town centre, or what locals refer to as ‘pound-land’.

Anyway, enough about that. The reason for this post is the farcical rise of a new breed of Chavs. The ‘chavistani’.  These little hyenas hang around in packs and try to intimidate people with their slick LA wear, complete with handkerchief neck ties, gold plated ‘Ratners’ chains (almost touching the floor as these street monkeys never touch 5ft 2in) Evisu (very un-cool) jeans and Wiltshire cross Goan attitude. Hilarious!!! I challenge you not to check out Facebook and not p*ss your pants laughing when you see these little street urchins posing in this gear. Hilarious!!!!

Loxton Drive had to be one of the biggest two-faced estates ever created. Full of alright people from numbers 32-39, the scum that filled this sh*t from numbers 20-31 and 40-51 beggared belief. Ford Fiesta cars parked in the car park for 2 years without being moved, simply highlighted the disdain of which the council viewed this little oasis of faeces. Like any other council estate (funnily enough, the majority of the houses in 2003 were private!) there had to be the customary sofa and kitchen set outside in the middle of the car park. Oh how the little shitbags loved to play in the freezers that were there for months. I myself used to be well involved in the delightful games of ‘pelt the car with walnuts’. That was so much fun. Ah, bliss. But then I realised when I was 13, that it’s time to move on. But not the real Loxton Drivers. No no.

The real Loxton Drivers are the people that ensure the estate stayed in the deep fucking sink it should be in now. I’m not sure, as I haven’t been back for 5 years. But Loxton Drive was special. Special in so many reasons that people now aged between 16 and 26 who lived on the estate in the late 1990s, I am sure have records. They’re probably there now training the younger generation up on how to deal drugs, get arrested 16 times before their 16th birthday and how to shag around the estate whilst catching as many STDs as possible.

I could name names. But I can’t. How overly personal that would be. Mind you, if the people that this was relevant for really did find this article, one would be flabbergasted at how such shit can access the internet. Funny how the poorest families always have enough for ridiculous luxuries. Can’t say I had an overly privileged background. But I did go to school. That’s the difference.

And here we are. The end. But if any of you ChavTown explorers wish to pioneer a cuddle-mission into this shit hole, then look no further than the glorious Number 5 bus. It is truly a reason to end all forms of public transport. First, I salute you for continuing to run the service. But not for hiking the prices on the Bristol-Bath train, which thank god I no longer have to get.

Goodbye Loxton Drive. I know it’s a few years late, but I am fucking glad you’re gone.

I cannot believe that this sorry excuse of a town hasn’t been mentioned on here already.  With a population of around 7,000 people its no wonder they turn to a life of chavism! The town is on the outskirts of Exeter, its made up of wannabe chavs and chavettes. everyone sleeps with everyone, the women just have kids and did I mention that they seem to all sleep with their mothers, brothers, sisters etc.The worrying thing must be for the people of Exeter, cos these chavs are moving onto their patch.

Next you have the little boys with their suped up ‘Novas’ and racing around with their baseball caps on and tops off giving shit to people as they walk by. Nothing is safe unless its nailed down and then the scum manage to still find a way to nick it. Everyone knows everyone and its like an open house invitation cos noone knocks they  just walk right in. The highlight of the week is the karaoke hosted in the swan by some fat bird who clearly needs to stop singing and start exercising.

They all seem to love fighting, but never with their hands they always hide behind weapons, or blame the 13 year old down the road.

All in all a miserable chavy run down excuse for what could be a nice place.

Oh, if you want to fit in with the ‘local chavs’ just remember to call it Kirtonville, you mightfeel more at home.