Coventry

From Chavtowns.com

"Coventry, Chaventry, whatever, its a shithole. even the radio stations are shit! _POSTEDON by justanotherlad

England, West Midlands justanotherlad _WRITES "Even when i look out of the window next to me i can see buses going past, my eyes instinctively head straight to the back seat of the top deck, where theres yet ANOTHER herd of chavs! surely that girl holding what looked like a cigarette musnt have been older than 12? theyre getting older!

I am somewhat saddened to say that i live in Coventry. It has the potential to be a nice community, even though god knows that even my school has a better council than our own city. Lady Godiva must be turning in her grave...some chav probably dug her up and robbed her clothes.

Fortunately though, im not counted among the poor souls who live in the likes of Hillfields, Stoke, Cheylesmore and Tile Hill, situated (nearish) around the outskirts of the city. I live in an area called radford, but with three houses, an old peoples home, a canal and a bridge separating my house from the city centre im safely out of the way of all the mazed streets, made up entirely of chav infested terraced houses. I never dare to venture to the heart of radford alone, Jubilee Crescent. Satan himself must feel sorrow for the helpless non chavs who live there. It is basically a huge coplex of houses, sorted into streets, with a large patch of grass and a few shops in the middle. Oh yeah, theres a chippy too. A chavs gotta eat! Before you wonder though, the only reason anybody SANE strolls into this hell-hole is due to the 'tesco' there. What would normally be a quick walk to the shop is a venture through hostile ground, a journey for people with steel balls (or no brains), what with all the numerous staring eyes and menacing hooded figures around. The problem with that though is that none of the chavs talk to each other, even though the lack of improper and somewhat damned annoying english is a rare abd pleasant gift. The second edge of the blade slams down though, as you realise that the silence means that the chavs recognise you as an enemy - a non chav! They all stare in contempt and hollow hostility at this outsider who is not part of the tribe. The fat, uncovered and three-quarter-length tracksuit uniformed females of this clan show their admiration for the obvious alpha male; the fat one with the burberry cap and fake gold chain. The now fascinated, if not confused chavs rarely even take drags from their desperately acquired fags, even a toke of the odd spliff is yet to be seen. All the chavs in this part appear like statues, but sadly the pigeons dont shit on them. There are gangs crammed into every corner and every oraface of this place, ever vigilant to work out the pin number of the man at the ATM machine. Funnily enough, credit fraud has dramatically risen recently. Eye contact with the chavs is not advisable, and so is a reply to the question 'what you lookin' at'. The trick is simply to let these sad cases bask in the glory of a mutual victory - staring contantly at every male who isnt wearing a cap! After having reached the golden safety of the tesco store, normality resumes, and the chavs decide mutually that the security guard there looks hard and will take more than staring at to conquer, and so they just go off towards the nearest bottle bank and get drunk/high.

Theres simply too much to say regarding the city centre - i will simply say this. The puddles of vomit (must have been last nights kebabs) that stain the bridge en route there are only the start. Even the public library is a crack den! (only the toilets though.)

Its a shame that when we look back in the future we wont be able to compare to the 'disco' 70's or the 'rockin' 80's - all we will remember is the millenium scum. the chavs. still, theres still time before this decade is out. All we can do is wait...'chavness' is only a temporary illness! i hope, anyway.

If that doesnt work, i reckon the old folks will get fed up and rebel against these embarrassments.

Extended text goes here then? ok. I believe that some sort of revolution is in order. that or another noahs ark. Hasta la muerte, chavs!"

After being totally and utterly bombed in the war (half a cathedral and one street are all that remain) it was rebuilt with the “great on paper” idea of putting a ring-road around it for ease of travel. This does provide a quick travel around the city, but, unlike the M25, it has about a couple of miles circumference so the massive dirty elevated road can be seen form virtually anywhere in the city centre.

Under the ring-road they built loads of car parks which just get full up of shit with the rest of the rebuilding consisting of large, square, grey tower blocks.

As my tutor at university said “The best thing about Coventry is that its easy to travel out of.”

Phil Graham

I would suggest twinning Coventry with it’s grim ne’er-do-well southern brother, Watford.

Stuart Whyte

COVENTRY ADDENDED!

Stuart Whyte writes (again):

The one and only high point of my time spent in Coventry was a rather surreal one. My housemates and I were enjoying a pleasant afternoon in an ‘altered’ state and decided to walk into town.

On exiting the awful subway under the ring road onto ‘Ye Olde’ Spon street (quaint cottage-like timber frame buildings now shops, oh and a demolished but still polluted gasworks site circled in barbed wire) we were greeted by the site of a dozen grown men morris dancing!

We held in the rising tide of girly hysterics only until a pair of American tourists stopped and asked how they might get to ‘Shakespeare Country’ ! Cue a solid ten minutes of raucous and tearful glee-filled laughter and stomach cramps as they were so far off track and blissfully unaware of the fact.

Still, what a shit hole.

The Specials.

now i'm struggling.

oh Mickey Gynn too.

Bangor

S4B3 _WRITES "A lovely seaside resort; 10 years ago. Now overun by Steeks in their modded chavmobiles, Bangor has become somewhat of a hotspot for drunken disorder, underaged drinking and donuts in the seafront carpark.

Since the building of the Kilcooley estate and the migration of Chavs from Belfast to these new, 'luxury' 2 up, 2 down terraced dumps Bangor has died.

Formerly a beautiful seaside holiday town, Bangor is now famous for the street racing and fluorescent tube lights, undoubtedly stolen from their local education facility, painted blue in order to look like a real set of 'neons' on the bottom of their 12 year old, 6th hand Nova.

If you are into drunken abuse being hurled at you from outside Winemark, or wish to be cloberred over the head with an empty Buckfast bottle, Bangor is the town for you. There are a grand totel of 2 hotels, adding up to a totel of 3 stars for the parents, and a Borstel for the kids, where they can learn the local 'Steek Speak' and the proper way to escape the 'peelers' down 'Banger' without getting 'lifted' and getting taken back to their proud and wasted parents.

The daytime TV is brilliant as well. Just buy a pirate Sky Digital box from the market and tap into the paying customers lines from more upspoken areas such as Ballyholme and Crawfordsburn.

On the subject of markets; our local market is held on a Wednesday morning. An obvious excuse to skip school for the rest of the week and get to browse through the stalls of fake Kappas and cigarette lighters. I honestly don't know how the market traders make any money; First of all they gets their benefits, then buy the pirate goods over the internet from a BT internet booth (if it hasn't been vandalised) and then they have their goods stolen. It's a vicious circle.

The High School isn't much better - when they attend. I have many a day been driving home and having "Wee Grammar Shit" or the first thing that comes to their 50 word vocabulary. Why? Because I have the intellect to go to school and get good grades, rather than sit out on the street smoking or jacking cars. The first thing that comes to my mind, is "Look where you'll be in 10 years, you hobo!" But I wouldn't dare say such a thing for fear of having my "Windees" or "Windows" put through.

Onto their Chavmobiles and Chavchicks. Does The Fast And The Furious style streetracing sound your cup of tea? Yes? Come down to Bangor to intermingle with the Carjackers and Tax Evaders who have made the Pickie Carpark their playground. They then proceed to unintentionally impregnate their Chavchicks upon the bonnet of their supped up little ‘Banger’ in full view of the decent members of the general public who have the bravery to venture out of their homes after 6pm. After some suspension carnage these leeches of society play Call on Me by Eric Prydz through their stolen IceMan beatbox, while at the same time activating their ‘legit’ police scanner to make sure they don’t get a ticket.

As Bangor doesn’t have much to offer for the dear Chavlings they are forced to stand in disconcerting groups outside their local ‘Offy’ provoking members of the public to buy them some White Lightning or Bucky. If all else fails they will approach a more physically mature member of their own kind and ask them to get them alcohol as they are under 18. This usually isn’t a problem, but as we know, the Chav will probably run off with their money and buy some ‘Wacky Backy’.

However, In what I say, there are nice parts of Bangor. As long as you stay in your own home or in your own area, you are safe. Around the area of Bangor Grammar School, of which I attend 5 days a week, (which is compulsory outside the High) there are some rather nice sites to see. The McKee Clock, which is beautiful during the day, is actually quite decent looking, for being in the middle of the Town Centre. I wouldn’t recommend going there in the evening though, as Steeks seem to like it just as much as us regular folk. There is also Ballyholme. It has nice, 19th century homes which seemingly not even the wealthy drug baron Chavs can afford. Also, there is Conlig, where I live. It is a few miles away from the nearest Chav infested territory, and not somewhere the Chavs enter because it is close to the Cop Shop.

So, that’s my summary of Bangor. Not a place you want to visit, but the photographs from the late 1980’s were nice looking. It is unfortunate that I grew up witnessing such atrocities but hopefully, someday we will see the Pied Piper of Bangor arriving to take these rats away.

Did you write this Cambo?

any other bad towns or cities out there? southern or central ones?

btw: there's a big Q around the block in Liverpool leading to the Northern Rock. just heard.

King John Honest John wrote: The Specials.

now i'm struggling.

oh Mickey Gynn too.

Hazel O'Connor? (possibly , not 100 % on that one)

erm , oh yeh - The Enemy

King John Honest John wrote:

btw: there's a big Q around the block in Liverpool leading to the Northern Rock. just heard.

I've got my mortgage with Northern Rock :\ohwell: Will the slate get wiped if they go bust?? Or will i be homeless?? Bummer!!

johnny wrote:

King John Honest John wrote:

btw: there's a big Q around the block in Liverpool leading to the Northern Rock. just heard.

I've got my mortgage with Northern Rock :\ohwell: Will the slate get wiped if they go bust?? Or will i be homeless?? Bummer!!

Fuck knows...Lerrus know either way,will ya J ?? I'm mortgaged-up with them an'all The tight bastards will probably get mopped up by another bank if they go bust!I rek anyhow.

Boatraceface wrote:

johnny wrote:

King John Honest John wrote:

btw: there's a big Q around the block in Liverpool leading to the Northern Rock. just heard.

I've got my mortgage with Northern Rock :\ohwell: Will the slate get wiped if they go bust?? Or will i be homeless?? Bummer!!

Fuck knows...Lerrus know either way,will ya J ?? I'm mortgaged-up with them an'all The tight bastards will probably get mopped up by another bank if they go bust!I rek anyhow.

Thought the Northern Rock Scenario was just a short term cashflow problem....

If not one of the other banks l buy em and the debt will be transferred natch .

northern rock will be ok next week because they get the very final payment of my personal loan.that should help them get out of trouble as for places,i was in gibraltar for a day last week.thats a fooking wierd place.

isn't jimmy hill from coventry?

bobmo wrote: isn't jimmy hill from coventry?

no , he was sent there

Poet Philip Larkin Actor Nigel Hawthorne Pete 'fcuking' Waterman Hazel O'Connor Paul 'complete twat' King (lead singer of the 80s band King) Big Fun

On a better note, The Selecter are from Coventry as is porn star Debee Ashby...

and finally that smarmy Sky Sports presenter Richard Keys

King John Honest John wrote: any other bad towns or cities out there? southern or central ones?

btw: there's a big Q around the block in Liverpool leading to the Northern Rock. just heard.

if you happen to cross the pond and end up driving from dallas to austin in a car in texas, make sure you flip the bird towards the west at about exit 332... and smile as you do. it'll be worth while.

Teesside - The armpit of the North East

England, North East juicedrop _WRITES "

The teesside region of the North-East of England is one of those areas earmarked for regeneration over the next few years. This sort of information wouldn't have meant much to me before I relocated to the pair of fetid rat testicles that straddle either side of the Tees, otherwise known as Middlesbrough and Stockton. There is an impressive piece of architecture near Middlesbrough station which curves with the road, reminiscent of regent street approaching piccadilly circus. For some reason this particular part of the town stuck in my mind the first time I visited - possibly a subconscious effort to blot out the rest of the frighteningly stark images which would soon be the backdrop for my new home. To drive through Teesside at night you could be forgiven for thinking you're in a science fiction setting. In places, the horizon is just metal and flames. Pipes, girders, beams, smokestacks, railings, rungs all glistening in yellow illumination and flames, begging the question: What is it all in aid of? What on God's green earth are they making? It's not spaceships. Teesside is a dying place. The exact details I don't have, but a lot of the original industries are not thriving like they once did and nothing new has taken their place. Vacant lots occupied by rubble, discarded softdrink cans and the hardiest of weeds are liberally strewn all over the region. Workshops and empty premeses pervade every street. Ugly 60s and 70s rectangular concrete architecture is rife. Chunks of the residential areas are a grid of non-descript lego-block "street houses", where the front door is seperated from the street by three feet of pavement. Many of these have "We will not be moved" placards in the front windows, resisting the plans for regeneration. It's not uncommon to find an abandoned pram complete with sprogg outside these homes. All the towns have them, but the one that sticks in my mind the best is the Billingham Town Centre. As you approach it, you'd think it was just another squallid block of council housing, but closer inspection reveals a faded 'Town Centre' board bolted to a concrete wall, and the tell-tale colour of shop front signs, usually for a baker, chippy or betting shop. The Town Centres are generally a rectangular array of these shops facing inward onto an ugly concrete forecourt where Chavs are snogging or eating chips. Teesside's one contribution to society in the 21st century is the Parmo: A heart-attack inducing bed of fried chicken fillets, smothered in cheese and kebab-shop sauces usually accompanied by chips and 'salad'. Most high streets have a few pizza or kebab shops where these can be purchased any night of the week by the zit-faced locals in Nickelson shirts. Like every other seaside town in England, Redcar (yes, that's exactly what I thought the first time I heard there was a place called that) residents claim they have the best Fish & Chips in the country. Insert a pregnant pause of bemusement while deciding how to respond to the fact that they're boasting about the quality of their chip and batter deep-frying technique. It comes as no surprise to learn that the main occupation of the residents seems to be unemployment and drugtaking. The average mouth of a Teessider appears to have been the subject of a science experiment with random blackened pegs of varying lengths spaced sporadically in their gums. The boast is that Chavs originated in the region, but apparently even that questionable accolade belongs elsewhere. Nonetheless, they are as much a part of the region as McDonalds is of the local diet. The guys have shaved back and sides with a tuft on top, and the girls crudely stepped hair dyed in black and white highlights. The remainder of the population is overweight, leather-skinned and dressed in tracksuits. I haven't said anything about Hartlepool yet. I'll just leave you with this titbit: I had never been punched in the face by a girl before visiting this charming town. Forget regeneration, having now lived here for six months, in my humble opinion, the best thing that could happen to teesside is a swiftly moving incurable plague followed by a 9.0 Richter scale earthquake."

It's not that bad really! (and Redcar so does have the best fish and chips outside of Whitby anywhoo!)