• What review did your town get on Chavtowns?
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[QUOTE]AAhh, Walsall, the brilliant chav hole of the county, where to start. Before you step foot in this town, it is a good idea to come in via car, or better yet, just walk into town, with a friend prefarbly, because when you drive in, and leave your car for a while, the likeihood is that it would have been nicked, and is streaming its way down to M6. So thats one warning. Next, when you have arrived in town, it is advisable if you are chav spotting to have a laugh, I advise you to do it at the new art gallery, situated at the back of Woolworths, where you’ll be able to laugh at your own delight at watching them trying to nick goods from Woolworths. They won’t step foot anywhere near the art gallery as there seems to be force-field setup to prevent chavs entering it. Or, if you fancy a pint, you can also do chav spotting at the Wharf Bar, where they won’t dare go near, because of its force-field again. However, as the rest of the town is protected by force-fields, you’ll find them at these following tourist spots in town: * The shopping centre, where they all round together like a big group of tossers they are at the local pound shop, to buy their goods * The Local boop, boop, booooooop, bop, boop, boop, I’m chaving it McDonalds where they swarn the place, inside and out throwing their big macs at each other and some poor sods that walk past it * The local tesco, which is actually known to all locals as the meeting point in town when you meet up with friends. If you have to meet friends there, don’t stand there for too long, as a fight is bound to happen there all the time, between chavs or worse yet between a chav and a goth/rocker, which can escalate into a right scene. Where else is there, oh yes: *The bus station, next to St Paul’s Church, where if you wanna get onto a bus to Wolverhampton, otherwise known as the chav express, i recommend you find another means of transport, as your bound to end up getting mugged at on this bus by chavs. But if you dare, you can always hop onto it and watch them nick their fake gold earrings from one another and nicking their cans of carling too. * And finally, the night clubs in town can be a right pain in the arse, depending on where you go, the imperial is infested with them from the entry to the back wall, so thats best cleared of. The Yates is teh same, where they’ll always be a guaranteed fight at the hours of 10, 11, and midnite, so grab a seat and watch the action from the varsity bar, as they don’t really go in there nowadays. As for the rest, the WS1 bar is a good chav free zone, as they don’t tolerate any burberry shit, and so the chavs that don’t get entry end up having a fight with one another to keep themselves amused, while the chavettes flirt with the bouncers, attempting to gain entry to the club. So, if your near by, pop into Walsall, and take a look around.[/QUOTE] [QUOTE][h=2]One Response[/h] [IMG]http://1.gravatar.com/avatar/daf3111c91fae6e2e1795d45bc3949a1?s=32&d=http%3A%2F%2F1.gravatar.com%2Favatar%2Fad516503a11cd5ca435acc9bb6523536%3Fs%3D32&r=G[/IMG]friarparkbitch says: [URL="http://www.chavtowns.co.uk/2005/04/walsall/comment-page-1/#comment-12472"]January 10, 2009 at 12:00 am[/URL] omg do 1 ya scabby lil frk yama dweeb srsy gyall yama dweeb[/QUOTE]
[QUOTE] Sutton in Ashfield boasts many things…. Second from last in the education league tables, one of the countries highest rates of teenage pregnancy & and sexualy transmitted desease, and double the national average of welfare spongers. Not to mention the town’s famous ‘scab miners’ in the 80′s. I have yet to see a local male 30 years or below without a cap, blue ‘trackies’ and prison whites. They also sport the classic chav face, mouth always open and bottom lip sagging yet protruding. This look has taken years of inbreeding and lack of education to perfect. The local accent is almost is almost impossible to understand, it is sounds like a gutteral version of a ‘honking’ seal. This is never done at a reasonable volume every noise must be shouted as loud as possible. The volume is especially loud when swearing-most of the time! Children are taught to swear before they’ve eaten their first microchip. The single mothers while away hours in Asda swearing at their children and piling up the trolleys with processed filth and vodka WKDs. Local pastimes include, sponging, swearing, smoking & drinking. The parents do the same! My previous neighbour, single mother Shazza could hardly contain her, joy when 12 year old Kylie finally became pregnant by 38year old glue sniffer Baz. Extra benefits all round, they might be able to afford that staffy puppy at last. Then they’ve made it. My latest neighbour doesn’t send her son to school, he’s nine years old. She can’t be arsed to get up that early. Anyway the ‘little twat’ has ADD. She also couldn’t see why she should give up smoking and drinking just because she was pregnant! When boyfriend Gaz comes around the ‘little bastard’ has to go to his room and listen to his Crazy Frog CD. He’s got to ‘get off his face’ have an arguement and then beat up the girlfriend because shes been ‘shagging around’. These are actualy real people. What is worse the whole town consists of more of the same. They are loud, rude, foul mouthed and stupid. Hell, they are even officialy stupid! They are proud of their stupidity. They are an utterly despicable breed with no aspirations whatsoever…aside from ‘getting off their face’. Why do they bother existing? Remember, all tracksuits are flammable! [/QUOTE] It's hardly as bad as this guy makes it out to be, but we do have a good few chavs, underaged mothers, etc. Technically I was born in Mansfield however.
[QUOTE=Lukeo;34917124]It's hardly as bad as this guy makes it out to be, but we do have a good few chavs, underaged mothers, etc. Technically I was born in Mansfield however.[/QUOTE] Mansfield isn't much better
[quote]Stevenage – it featured in the film “Boston Kickout” – and didn’t come out of it very well. The Town Centre is full of Chavs. Beer bellied Dads(and Mums) all a-jangle with Elizabeth Duke, screaming at Bailey, Paris and Keisha while waving their Lambert and Butlers. Scaring the shit out of the local wrinkly population while running round on motorised scooters, giving their mates a good kicking (“Bi’ of a larf, innit?”) hanging round bus stops and local shops making a bloody nuisance of themselves and skiving off school are the hobbies of the teen chavs. At the weekend young chavs go to the Plaza or Leisure Park for a booze-up and fight night. Having a piss on the nearby station platform is a favourite pastime as they wait in drink sodden lethargy for their train home if they live out of town. Pools of vomit and urine greet commuters on Monday morning. Stevenage – our motto is “The Heart of a Town Lies in Its People” – well, it doesn’t say much for the people here. Chavs 70%, “Normals” 20%![/quote] Yeah, I'd say that's about right.
[QUOTE]Cesspit, shithole, cat-sick-slobber – there are many names for Crawley. Some call it the Armpit of the South, I’d go further than that. I’d say it’s the infected spot in the Armpit of the South. My two friends and I were so pleased when we discovered that Crawley had not been missed off the list of Chav towns – that, in fact, it had 3 entries! Three! So we thought we’d add a fourth. We thought we’d be refreshing and give three independant accounts on various areas with in the rank, disgusting and chav-infested hole. Make no mistake it is chav infested, it’s like looking what the cat coughed up and pissed all over at times. 90% of the population is chav based or related, the rest of us make do as best we can. And God do we try. Account #1: The Park Now as the oldest of the Crawleyites I would love to be able to say that Crawley wasn’t always this way, that it didn’t always have Chav Mecca – County Mall. But that would be a lie. A barefaced, stinking, stupid, shitty little lie. Crawley has been this bad as long as I can remember, there have always been squeaky voiced little boy chavs trying to look big for their five years underage slut girlfriends. ‘Tis just the way. Arguably the thing that made Crawley famous was a little event in an area local to my house called Tilgate Park. A place where, shockingly for Crawley, there are very few council houses. Single mums teenage mums, however, are surprisingly enduring when it comes to finding a home. Anyway, some chavs who were feeling far more clever than they actually were hooked a moped up to a child’s roundabout. They proceeded to rev it and cried in youthful glee when the engine caused the toy to spin. Three Chavettes then seated themselves on it and the fun began. It spun so fast that the stupid sluts were thrown off and given broken limbs and third degree friction burns. This made NATIONAL NEWS and so it should. We should remember the amazing depths of chav idocy. We could scarcly believe it. Other chavs could scarcely believe it. But that is only what the BBC knows us for – an event outside Tilgate Park. I now wish to talk about what goes on within it. I am of course referring to the ‘night fishing’. Ever wonder how our teenage pregnancy rate is so high? Well this is how! Chavs and their all-too-young chavettes go the the lake at night and do any number of activities at an interesting variation of volumes. Fornication, fighting (even though they may not have alcohol!), nude swimming or even murder. It is so very difficult to tell. The police don’t dare enter, neither do those unfortunate enough to live nearby. This behaviour is odd and almost bestial, just like the Pint&Fight phenomenon. Because of it we have an ever increasing number of the burberry wearing, sticky fingered, pissed off their faces, headache inducing, mugging, thieving, fighting, little bastards. Would it kill you to use protection? REALLY? It’s not much to ask is it? Account #2: The First Hand Encounters As a local shop worker in a newsagent I notice something about my regular customers every so often and this happens to if not all of them, the teeange single mums and lay-about housewives will dissappear for a week or two only to reappear a few days later with another child, which would make 4, 5 now? I lose count. If I’m not being regailed with truly inspirational stories of how their wonderful lives fall to pieces when they can’t cash a gyro at the local post office only to get them selves pissed for another night at the local pub; I am met with the classic chav who comes in asks for a large Rizla just so they can get high for another night as they roll up in front of me. And then it happens I’m invited to go out with a group of *sneer* adoring locals who wish to go to Bar Med (local Chav night out of choice for your classier chav) to which I laugh and respectfully decline for fear of being followed home and gang-raped. For as we all know Bar Med is one of the areas in Crawley which I like to refer to as ‘The Source’. From ‘The Source’ spouts all manner of things drugs, fights and the occasional - no thats a lie – daily occurence of the couples entering the gents; probably going to flush the chemical toilet and make more darling cherubs to brighten up my day. After all where would we be with out this stunning beacon in the middle of our town centre, it reaches to all races and cults of the Crawley area drawing them in from all over like goblins to get their usual fix? Where would we be? A better place. Now after hobbling out of Bar Med you would think they wouldnt get so pissed out of their minds they can leave with some diginity right? You would be wrong. They step onto the bus, refuse to pay, fight with the driver and then only find themselves on the floor of the bus or plastered to the glass sheilds, they will normally stay there till morning. This is no ordinary bus service; this is Metrobus and Fastway but that is a topic I shall leave for the next writer. Account #3: Crawley can only really be seen on a bus, and coming from Bewbush (the cesspool of the cess pool), I really get to see some…coulorful characters! I remember one experience on the way home through gossops green, minding my own business a brick suddenly found itself trying to break through the glass beside my head. Fearing it was the end and terrorists had finally emerged from the back of Ifield I thought I’d stare death in the face and give a well earned ‘f**k you’. Imagine my suprise then when the brick had been thrown from a bunch of kids no older than 10…just think, they lived so close to bewbush and they weren’t fathers of at least 2! Although this point has been gone over so many times, underage pregnancy isn’t a problem, more like expected. If you’re bleeding from the vagina then it’s time to leave home and get yourself council house! Best way to do that? Shag in every back corner and have yourself and your wailing baggage shoved in Bewbush or Broadfield, or if you’re really lucky the hostel just by ASDA. Just think, the boozer across the road, the hospital down the road and the church graveyard a 5 minute walk away. Its like a neon sign BE THE SHIZ PICKLE YOUR LIVER INNIT! Ah yes Bewbush, the part of Crawley no-one wants to be in…and the council accept that! they even try to solve the problem! ‘Try’ being the main word. The local pub got knocked down a few months ago and is getting replaced by, you guessed it, more council houses! They even tried to help the poor trackie bints with prams and gave them a park to go to…which then turned into another baby making spot. Oh and the leisure centre got knocked down and replaced by a sort of…sexual health clinic? No-one really knows what it is and the chavs, with top form i might add, quickly covered it in grafic graffitti telling them where to shove their advice up the backside. The field on the back of the old leisure centre is another story entirely. A huge football field on the back of the farer out council houses, is the prime vacation spot for all pickeys. I cannot tell you the joy I express seeing a nike covered gypo having a crap in the street. In fact, I think this is all chavs are ever good for in Crawley. If they see a pickey then all attention is directed at driving them away! It’s like a holiday from the constant shit they give you, instead of having them try and beat YOU up, the gypos get it instead! But then they leave and the chavs use it as the ultimate boozer. smashed WKD bottles…oooo yay. We are three non-Chavs from Crawley and even we cannot escape the culture. If you ever find yourself in this God-forsaken spit of land then run, run fast and hard and don’t look back. Much as I hate to say it MAKE FOR HORSHAM. We don’t really like them on principle but they have one thing right. Crawley is a deadly place for the non-educated in chav ways. After awhile it gets inside you, it infects you. Soon you end up swearing and liking RnB. Sad times. Sad times, people.[/QUOTE] I was born in Crawley, but I moved away when I was about eight years old. I don't remember too much about living there, I must admit. I can't really imagine it being that bad though.
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