Accrington: The bus rider’s nightmare.
I know a couple of other people have made posts about Accrington, but I thought I’d add some aspects which haven’t been mentioned.
Being stuck in the town because of work commitments, I envy people who say they used to live here but moved away, and can laughingly give a loveable account after they came back for a visit. hey, I still live here, and yes, I know it has gotten worse.
The town worsens by the day, particularly because there are a worrying amount of scumbags who have been sent here because they have been “barred” from other towns. There is a charity based in accrington which helps out distressed chavs (I kid you not), and chavs from far and wide relocate to Accrington to sponge as much as they can off this charity. The charity can help out financially, as well as providing free food and clothes.
Something scary is happening with the chavs in Accrington, the genepool sems to be getting smaller and smaller. Three weeks running, I have been going about my daily business only to be hassled for a great length of time by some s**t -for-brains chav. Each one bore a remarkable similarity to the last, although it was clear that they were not blood related. They are just morphing into the same fooking person. I think, somewhere in Accy, there is a big house where chavs are being produced. Some kind of factory.
The Hyndburn Circular bus, which is a travelling Chav box and takes in the delights of Rishton (Euurgh), Clayton-Le-Moors (chav city), Accrington (just f**king weird), Oswaldtwistle (land of the kiddie chav) and Blackburn (chavs attracted by the “bright lights”) has to be seen to be believed. Never does a journey pass without:
(a) Older chavs sitting on the back seat and swearing at everyone who gets on the bus.
(b) Chavettes taking up all the seats with their prams.
(c) A rockport/bus ticket/baby chav hitting your head
(d) Chav kids spraying each other with their fake perfume. After this experience, I got off the bus smelling like a f**king toilet duck factory.
(e) A chav with the most horrendous ringtone on its phone. Usually rings at a piercing volume. Usually “Barbie Girl”, or something equally distasteful. On a very busy bus, said chav answers phone very very loudly with those infamous words “I’M ON BUS LIKE WERE ARE YA?”. Then swears a lot and tries to explain to other chav on other end of phone that he is on a bus. For ten minutes. then battery dies and chav asks random stranger “YER GOT ENY CREDIT LIKE ME FONES FOOKED”
(f) The chav who decides that’s it’s a good idea to cough up all his lung butter on the back seat in the morning. One day son, if I ever come across you when I am feeling big and hard, I am going to make you drink my vomit until it kills you.
(g) This happens so frequently it scares me. On the Hyndburn Circular, almost EVERY DAY a big chav gets on and tries to pay half. Said chav is usually with chavette, chavette uses quite a lot of swearwords when poor driver asks them both for date of birth. When both chavs give a year that implies that they are 22 and 20 respectiely, the bus driver states that they have to pay full fair, chavette then states that he has “got this fing, like dis condition where he can’t remember years and stuff”…. Ah, I see. Idiot syndrome.
Just writing this makes me feel nauseous about the place I live. Half of the tme I walk through the town and feel as if an alien civilisation has landed, kidnapped all the normal people and replaced them with these prototype humans, people devoid of soul, thought and life.