Posted by & filed under East Sussex, Kent, London, South East.

It’s easy to see why Hastings is held in such low regard by both residents and non-residents alike. All the indicators are there in the statistics to show how poor this end-of-the-line run down seaside town is, compared to the rest of the South East. It has 27.2% of its residents in private rented accommodation compared the the average in England of 15.4%. It has the lowest average weekly take home pay in the South East. Despite the obvious, there are other factors that make a town and that’s the people who live there. For such an impoverished area, Hastings has a vibrant culture. However, this is often dismissed by a lot of residents and those who’ve ‘made it out of the ghetto’ as they have often become blinkered to the reality of most of the towns in the South East (by choice or ignorance) and become fixated on Brighton and London as some promised land. The grass is always greener until your rent triples or quadruples and your salary doesn’t.

For me what makes a good town, is a fine balance between money and culture. To put it bluntly, if artists cannot afford to live in the town because the rich have driven them out, then it’s finished. Hastings needs more money and inward investment, not just investment class landlords and corporations sucking every last penny out of the place. However, artists can afford to live here and that’s why you have articles describing Hastings as Dalston-on-sea and the Shoreditch of Sussex. Brighton is cutting a fine balance but money seems to be winning out, so look for the certain cultural exodus that will follow in the next 5 years. London, I mean real London (Zones 1 & 2), has been conquered by money for two decades. What passes for culture these days are merchant bankers, oligarchs and sheiks plus their model trophy wives, picking at £250 main courses in restaurants where most people could not afford the bottled water. A sterile, culturally cleansed playground for the mega-rich, where artists day trip in from 60 miles away.

So what are the five towns in the South East that are worse than Hastings? Well life does exist outside the golden triangle of H-town, Brighton and London but some of it, you should not bother visiting or living in;

5. Bexhill-on-sea

It maybe the birth place of motor racing, but it seems everyone under the age of 65 has used their motor vehicle to leave the place. Eastbourne just along the coast, has been described as ‘God’s waiting room’, well Bexhill is the place for those who can’t afford a seat in the grim reaper’s departure lounge and are loitering outside.

4. Royal Tunbridge Wells

A town entirely consisting of Reginald Perrins and retired Reginald Perrins in what is a London commuter dormitory. The rents are some of the highest outside London and Brighton for what is a decidedly mediocre if not moneyed town. If there is any culture, it gets turned off at 10pm before some meddlesome ratbag complains to the local environmental health department.

3. Sheerness

Like Hastings, Sheerness-on-sea is piss poor. Where the residents of Hastings make the town, the residents of Sheerness break it. A town so culturally moribund, there is no place like it in the south east. Neglected by Swale Borough Council like a ginger haired step child, Sheerness is the Clacton of Kent. The now defunct website ‘Sheppey Scum’ used to have a page for culture, that just said ‘No’.

2. Cranbrook

Your typical high weald market town with money and what I can only describe as ‘nice’. The kind of place where the investment class slum landlords of Hastings live and send their kids to public schools like Benenden. All the aspiring AB1’s in Hastings and Rother, who would vote in a pig if it had a blue rosette on it, want to live there in semi-rural tranquillised mediocrity because the local comprehensive (their single buy-to-let hole in Hastings, doesn’t bring in enough to send their spawn to private school) has great ofsted stats.

1. Gravesend

Ah the festering cat turd in the Garden of England. Those who would swap 1066 country for Gravesham, have truly lost the plot. Other North Kent holes worse than Hastings are available, with a honorary mentions for Chatham, Gillingham, Strood and Sittingbourne. Yes kids, Hastings is bad, but it isn’t Medway.

OK, now you’ve seen the list and disagreed, give me your bile!

Posted by & filed under London, West London.

I am old and ready to die, i read with some alarm the comments made here about our green and pleasant land, living in covent garden for a very long time i can rant with authority, be careful the drugs, prostitutes [ from parker street ]…gangs, violent drunks, culture clashes , lack of police resources, thieves , and those out for “a night up west” have made the place a venal skank pit, worthy of a sheet of continuous napalm.

Need a piss or a turnout go to parker street, just defecate at will outside secrets or parkers, every one else does, buy fake drugs from any of the pirate cab drivers, or take a “trike” with blaring eastern european pop music from the 90’s, the trike drivers will ask you for a hundred sobs for the shortest of journeys, when you say no they will say just “making the joke my friend only £50 to you and i forget the V.A.T.”

Roaming gangs of shaved apes go on way into the night looking for any one or anything to smash up the need to prove themselves is overwhelming, so come on up, get you mobile nicked, your car robbed, your face slashed, your girl raped, in the last 12 months we have had the lot, including a jumper who committed suicide about 8am after a fair size crowd had gathered.

Official stats say the ward of convent garden and holborn has more licensed premises per sq metre than any were else in the U.K. and the highest crime rate in the borough of camden [ that includes camden high street which is no day at the beach itself] what was an area for artists , artisans , writers , musicians, thinkers etc, has become the go to place for the scum feeders dredging the bottom of the sewer sucking down the human waste into their filthy bile infested corpus, gargling the lot with a cheap larger and a kebab from a place with a rat problem to rival any dock in the world.

So well down camden council, you took some thing good and turned it into just another play ground for the dumb and dirty,,,,,,thank god ill be taking a dirt nap soon enuf,,,its all yours suckers…..

Posted by & filed under Scotland.

Dunoon, a place where people far and wide visited as chosen holiday destination “back in the day” . Booming Tourism , and full of life and nice people.. Then now. In the last decade or so the local Council thought it’d be “good” to stick all the Junkies from Greenock and Clydebank into Dunoon to help them get back on track with their “lives”.

As the houses are lined up with Junkies and criminals from across the water, this “nice little town” is no longer one. Despite the obvious lack of things to do in the town unless your a pensioner, Dunoon falls into probably the most boring places to live in. Also with several murders already in the year of 2014 (it being August now) I’m sure theres still a couple more to come this year in this “nice town” .

So as the council decides to build another housing scheme in the Ardenslate area to stuff more junkies in, the future is looking grim. As violence erupts between the drug dealers so well placed by the council, and as they continue to scrounge benefits and stab each other over drugs … The town isn’t looking great. And also as one out of 6 of dunoon’s sectors falls into the top 100 of Scotland’s highest crime rate sectors (bearing in mind there is thousands of sectors spread across Scotland) again we see the true colours of the town.

As crime and deprivation as well as boredom rises within the town, it will add to the cess pit it already is. And yes the older generation of the town thinks it is still 1960 and that everything is ok, but it’s far from the truth. With a high school that looks good but continues to deliver awful results , the new breed of Dunoon arseholes is being created. As unemployment and boy racer cars become more frequent, I wonder if they can mess this place up any more than it already is – So Argyll council, good job!

Posted by & filed under Scotland.

What is the best way to properly describe this “quiet” village in north-east Fife? While in truth it’s nowhere near as bad as some of the godforsaken s**teholes that are peppered across Fife, it’s still a long, long way from being the ultra-shiny preening Howe of Fife village that it so desperately wants to be. It may not be in Wicker Man territory just yet, but if standards continue to slide then this is a very real possibility for Auchtermuchty.

In truth, the sad, pathetic and seedy wee reality of Auchtermuchty is that it is a cliquey wee town in sore and dire need of some chastity belts, and duct tape all round for both the parents and the mutant kids that seem to be bred in abundance around this place. Neither English or the local dialect seem to be used correctly by the locals, it can be more accurately described as a verbal wank stain that is closer to fart noises than to proper speech.

It is at this point in time unclear whether it is something in the water or if contraception is taboo in Auchtermuchty, but whatever the case may be, the local council would be best advised to implement a strict series of population control measures. They should consider this a prudent use of council funds and a vital aid in preventing further degradation of an already sweaty and festering local gene pool.

Obviously some of the local women cannot be trusted to keep their underwear on and their legs shut, and the same goes for the masculine contingent of the village, who will drop their kechs at the earliest opportunity, shoot their end off and then complain a few years down the line about the resultant nightbreeds.

Nowhere is this macabre experiment in DNA manipulation more sadly and plainly evident than when some poor incomer or some other unfortunate soul happens to perchance upon lunchtimes or hometime at the local children’s educational establishment. If the god-awful language from the parents isn’t enough to leave you aghast, then surely the oddball genetic configuration of their demonic-spawn offspring will do the trick.

Speaking of the local children’s educational establishment, it seems to be engaged in an eternal war for the spare cash of the local community. It may not be actively engaging in turning family members upside down and shaking every loose bit of cash free at the moment,but given enough time, this may become school policy. The place seems hellbent on pissing any spare cash that they get up the wall and then begging and pleading to the mutant-makers of the village to give them even more of their hard-earned coin.

And for the gullible mutant-makers who do cough up, they have the unexpected treat of being charged overinflated prices and expected to be grateful for this so-called “privilege”. If any of the classes are taken on outings they are stuffed like sardines into what can only be described as something that a certain tv motoring presenter and his chums would gladly either blow up or swing pendulum-style into the side of a mountain.

If this wasn’t bad enough, there seems to be a disturbing increase in the local NIMBY (ie Not In My Back Yard) population in Auchtermuchty. These are people who now are entering into their twilight years, have now seen fit to start complaining about anything and everything about the village, despite whatever they are complaining about having always been present in Auchtermuchty.

The new paradigm of some in the local area seems to be aimed at strangling to death what little real life there is left in Auchtermuchty and to keep it in the same old boring 1945 war-time throwback appearance that pisses off what remains of decent members of the younger generations in the village. There is no opportunity for growth and renewal in this village, Auchtermuchty is like a certain clinic in Switzerland, this is where old people come to die, but before that they’ll make a bloody big hue and cry about bloody everything else. And where young people want to leave in droves, unless they’ve either got some local bint pregnant, or are indeed, the bint who has gotten herself pregnant.

There is piss all local industry in the village, save for a local pub which has seen several changes of ownership in the past 20+ years, and which invariably has ended up as a drinking den at times for the same chain-smoking and binge drinking mutant breeders. The local shop is nowhere near as good as the one that was there in the past, and with some of the prices you may have to consider re-mortgaging your property. Also there are far too many cars left parked outside the store, and common sense and decency have annoyingly enough, been cruelly abandoned as often as some of the vehicles outside sadly have.

The local chippy is a s**t stain on the good name of decent chippies everywhere, and whose food output can only be best described as heated-up cardboard with piss-awful condiments added. The fact that this place is still open is tantamount to the fact that the inhabitants of Auchtermuchty have palates that can be literally described as little better than pond-dwellers. It is suspected if better food were to be offered here, the owner of the premises would be accused of being in league with Beelzebub and burnt at the stake!

A Chinese takeaway opened a year or so ago, and even if the food from there is much better than the chip-shop, the so-called customer service of the lady behind the counter who staffs the place is often bloody dreadful. Locals are highly concerned that if the lady in question were to smile, her face would crack and there would be an immediate gaping hole that would appear in the space-time continuum. Regardless, she has the people relations skills of a former female Prime Minister and the vocal delivery of a female Frankenstein’s monster.

The local health centre is forever chock-full of the usual suspects ie old ladies where every system in their body seems to be going the way of the dodo, and who loudly discuss their bladder and bowel movements within earshot of everyone else, with other similarly-afflicted biddies.

Also, young parents whose approach to parenting is to completely ignore their children whilst glued to their bloody local gossip-discovery device a.k.a the modern smartphone, and who only engage with them either if they start screaming blue murder, smear their s**te on the walls, or run down the halls of the health centre emitting high-pitched squeals at frankly eardrum perforating levels.

Gossip is already very prevalent in the health centre, if you are not being talked about in here by at least one other person, you either aren’t interesting enough for the local s**te-spreaders or your body is already in the second stages of advanced rigor mortis. In addition to this, the people who work behind the counter here are blessed with an attitude that at times can be best described as the Hulk meets Genghis Khan. If you wish to be patronised and spoken to like a person whose IQ is in single-digits, look no further!

It is quite difficult to get an appointment at the health centre, due to the fact that so many of the local muppets seem
to be forever booked into all the available appointment slots, and also the fact that the telephone computer system that is employed by the centre would probably make the creators of Facebook bald! And if you do manage to get an appointment, it is neither very convenient for you, and the time-keeping skills employed by the centre can be at best described as seriously taking the piss, and at worst, of unquestionably Third-World standards.

The parking in the village is at best questionable, and at worst, a flagrant disregard for the highway code and proper standards of driving. Proper use of indicators has been forgotten in Auchtermuchty, as well as the practice of basic common courtesy and the ability to park correctly.

The local council is currently considering whether to bring in a 20mph speed limit in all the roads in Auchtermuchty,however this is really a fool’s game as most of the roads in the village are of honestly s**te quality and are loaded with potholes and half-arsed patch jobs that will not even last six months, never mind a year.

The harsh winters of the past few years have taken their toll on the surface of Auchtermuchty’s roads, and the local council has adopted a strict “absorb and deflect” policy to road repairs in the area. Thus, if you try to go above 30mph in Auchtermuchty, you are either a boy racer, impatient, or prepared to put up with roads that people in the poorest parts of the world would loudly and rudely scoff at.

The A91 road passes through the village, and drivers that use this road are often wilfully ignorant of the fact that there is a 30mph speed limit on this part of the road in Auchtermuchty. This road is not only blighted with speeding drivers but also much of the aforementioned problems with the rest of the roads and drivers in the village. The coppers are a rare sight around these part, and are will be even rarer now due to the cutbacks in the policing budget, as the local station has long since been closed down.

And this brings us onto Auchtermuchty’s main terminal illness, the modern social leprosy known to most intelligent people as the clique. If you are not a fully multiple-kid ridden member of one of the local cliques, there is the distinct possibility that no-one might speak to you, as your “face isn’t from around here”. The only way to bypass such crass rear-end level elitism is to either marry or get one of the local clique members loaded up with a mutant bun in the oven, or otherwise face the very real possibility of moving out of the village and making your home elsewhere. There is however, a very maverick route, which is to completely ignore the lot of them and treat it like a dormitory town, which in truth is infinitely preferable.

But the village is not completely without merit, it currently has four fully operational exits, which are ideal to escape the village and the growing gnawing feeling that you would have been better buying a remote house outside any of the villages in the area. It is hoped that by reading this, you will consider adopting this approach to purchasing a property in the Howe of Fife, as the surrounding villages are sadly in terms of quality, much the same!

Posted by & filed under Worcestershire.

I have lived around the area of South Worcestershire/North Gloucestershire for twelve years now, after moving house as a young child from Kent. I have seen many rotten and vile chavs throughout my time, but non of these locations is on parallel with Evesham- the faecal matter of the midlands.

First of all, the chavs range from different identification. Many of them are scrawny, gypsy-wannabes who will stop at nothing to begin a fight with anyone, no matter of their size, ethnicity etc. and will always get absolutely pelted to bits. These b*stardized a*sholes smoke weed an awful lot (no wonder that there was £500,000 worth of cannabis found in The Railway Inn near Prince Henry’s High School, which is actually excellent, despite where it is). Burberry caps are a frequent sight amongst onlookers, and I have no issue with someone happily picking these puny, and revolting scumbags with a sniper rifle to in between their eyes. Chavs are also extremely overweight, or should I say morbidly obese, strolling around, clad in track suits with a cigarette clasped between their lips. Usually, they are mothers, but I have seen males share the same characteristics.

When you enter the area near South Worcestershire College, chavs will amass. They usually loll around the outside of the main building, smoking as much marijuana as possible for their brains that lack any optimism or achievement. No wonder the college is of low standard. As you venture further past the college, there is many houses that are ridden with chavs, again smoking and dealing as much illegal substances if possible. An atomic bomb would not go amiss for this area at all!

As previous entries state, Lidl and the church is where many of these dreadful and sickening individuals gather. Many of them go to Evesham High School. These young people are generally very low in terms of intelligence and lack any intellectual capability whatsoever (I have many friends who go to Evesham High, and fortunately, they make up for the crap reputation that the school receives) The Polski-Schlep is a Polish-run shop, and I have no problem with the Polish at all. Many of them are kind-hearted and hard-working individuals, but many are troublesome and savage (I’m not trying to be xenophobic or racist at all).

Please do not enter Evesham, unless you want to be scrutinised by horrifyingly stupid people.