Written by Anonymous Visitor and posted in United Kingdom, West Midlands, West Midlands

Seen by many as the capital of the ‘Black Country’ (for those of you who don’t know, that’s the name given to the part of central England which was black with industry from 1750 until about 1980 because of the smoke from factories), Dudley is also seen by many as the chav Capital of the west midlands.

The town centre is a real hang out for chavs, it’s a really cheap place where discount stores are in the place of former department stores like BHS and M&S. Chavs hang around in the streets and pubs, smoking and drinking. Some chavs buy old bangers for a few pounds each and drive them to the top of Castle Hill (next to Dudley Castle) before letting the brake off and sending the car rolling down the hill across red traffic lights and into the middle of Castlegate Island.

At Castlegate, a modern leisure/commerical park near the town centre on the Tipton side, the are some top chav hang outs like the showcase cinema and stadium bowling alley. Chavs and chavettes go in the cinema to watch sexy films while the less sex obsessed chavs/chavettes go bowling in the bowling alley. When they come out of the bowling alley and cinema the chavs and chavettes hang round smoking and watching the older chavs show off in their modified cars.

Kates Hill is the chavviest part of Dudley, where practically all of the population aged 25 or below is a chav or chavette. It’s a mix of Victorian terraces, 1930’s council houses and 1970’s flats and bungalows – hardly the last word in desirability. Chavs go into the freebodies pub at the top of the hill and come out so drunk they can hardly walk, before smashing the windows of nearby houses with bricks and spraypainting their names on garage doors. The chavviest activity in Kates Hill is to race round in an old banger or on a motorbike and get spotted by the police. Chavs ride bikes down cul de sacs and the police are 100% sure the pursuit is over. But then the chavvy motorcyclists dash down an alleyway and come out somewhere that is so near but so far away – for this the chavs can thank Dudley council who in the 1970’s re designed the street layout so one half of the area was completely cut off from the other – somewhere which was a few yards away on foot was about 1 mile away by road!!!

The younger chavs, aged about 10 or 12, hang around underneath people’s flats around the garages, spraypainting their names on garage doors. Chavs used to spray their names on the communal stairs in blocks of flats but the problem got so bad that a few years ago special security locks were put on the entrance doors to the flats so only the residents could get in.

Another chav hang out in Dudley is the Priory Estate in the north of the town near the border with Sedgley. It’s a rundown 1930’s council estate alive with chavs and chavettes. The top hang out on the Priory is the row of shops at the top of the estate, where sunrise chinese takeaway sells the best Chinese food in England. But the off licence next door to Sunrise has a really generous owner who will sell booze to primary school kids. Whether its part of his nature of because he’s scared of getting blasted for meanness I don’t know. Anyway, once the chavs have got themselves drunk they run round the estate causing mayhem, running across people’s gardens and stoning windows. The toughest chavs get into fights, kick down fences and recently they set a house on fire.

Next to Priory Estate its the even chavvier Wrens Nest Estate, a notorious 1930’s council estate which has one of the toughest reputations in the country. Chavs and chavettes hang round all day and all night spraying grafhiti, smoking, boozing, taking drugs and breaking into cars. Back in 1986 a man living on the estate got 4 life sentences for running riot with a gun and blasting bullets at the homes of men who’d threatening to kill his family. He recently escaped from custody and was recaptured, he will not be freed until 2006. But nowadays the most notorious people on the Wrenner, as it is locally known, are the rock hard Chavs. People from all over the borough (Sedgley, Brierley Hill, Stourbridge, Halesowen) come to the Wrens Nest to pick fights and nearly always lose. Indeed, Wrenners are the hardest people in the midlands. The Washington pub, a mock tudor building, is notorious for fights between chavs and grebos. Even the chavettes fight there. The landlord calls the police but by the time they come the chavs and chavettes are gone.

Netherton, a large village on the south side of Dudley towards Halesowen, is also very chavvy. The village is a mix of just about every type of housing from 19th century cottages to 1970’s council tower blocks, but Netherton Park is one of the chavviest hang outs in England. Gangs of chavs rip tiles off the roof of the public toilets and throw them onto the back gardens of neighbouring houses. Some of the toughest chavs even throw the tiles at grebos and cause a fight. There’s also a lot of weed smoking and glue sniffing at Netherton Park. And most of it is done under the gaze of CCTV cameras.

Dudley is one of the chavviest towns in England and its getting chavvier by the day.


Written by Anonymous Visitor and posted in United Kingdom, West Midlands, West Midlands

Dudley is in a part of the Midlands known as the Black Country, so named because of its heavy industry. The landscape was once littered with horrific factories spewing out filthy black smoke into the atmosphere, leaving it permanently enveloped in black gloom. Hence the name, The Black Country. That will give you some idea of what the place is like – how many regions can you name that are officially named after its obscene pollution levels?

I once heard Dudley being described by the arsehole of the world by a man who lives in London. No, not the arsehole of Britain … the arsehole of the WORLD. I agree. I live there, and it’s the most miserable cesspit ever. It is a depressing brown and grey mass of stinking, derelict buildings, which in part can be blamed on the opening of the Merry Hill shopping centre. This caused most decent shops to either move or close down, leaving chav friendly shops such as MaccyD’s, poundworld and a terrible cheap clothes shack called Rock Bottom, presumably named so because you would have to have hit rock bottom to consider shopping in there. I also like to call this shop VultureLand, due to the terrible mêlées that occur when 2 or more chavs spot the same tracksuit bottoms for 99p “Oyyy! Its mine! Dow yow touch itt!” “I saw it first ya slaaaggg!”, it resembles vultures fighting amongst themselves as they pick at a stinking corpse.

A few years back, I was walking to Dudley Town Centre with a friend , when a group of 3 chavlings, about 14 years of age, with white caps and Neanderthal movements, came lolling up to us shouting abuse for no reason at all. Then they picked up stones, pelted them at us, and threw a particularly large brick off the back of my friends head, sending blood everywhere. They ran off sniggering. This unprovoked violence is what passes for entertainment to the community of chavs in Dudley. (I have always called them Neanderthals or cap boys long before I heard of chavs.)

One question that visitors to Dudley often ask (along with “Why did I come here?” and “How can you cope to live in such a squalid environment”?) is “What’s the with island sculptures?” Let me explain. Dudley council evidently had thousands of pounds of money to spend on the town to make it better. So rather than spend it on a much needed police presence, or on health care, education, the roads… or ANYTHING useful, some bright spark decided that it would be great for the people of Dudley to look at sculptures on the islands while they sit in traffic (traffic which could have been relieved with this funding). So while we sit in traffic, coughing from the excessive fumes, we can look at such wonders as MONKEY ISLAND at Castle Gate… sculptures of strange monkey/lion type creatures, a collection of balls, a bell, some sort of unholy scythe that looks like the grim reaper dropped it because it was too ugly… the list goes on. Thousands were spent on these modern art travesties, but the worst of all has to be the horrendous rusty Pegasus statue they put on Scotts Green island. (Locals call it “Peggys ‘Oss” … Oss being Black Country for Horse.) I don’t know if these works of ‘art’ were meant to cheer us up, but it has the opposite effect on most.

If you think the chavs that are infesting our towns like vermin are bad now, then you have a shock coming. I work in a Dudley school and I see first hand the next generation of skum that are being bred here, ready for release over the next few years. Vicious, sadistic little beasts who destroy and damage anything in their path, who scream abuse at anyone nearby for the sake of it. Any attempt to challenge their behaviour by long suffering teachers is met with pathetic excuses and moaning in their awful Black Country dialect (which is perhaps the worst mangling of the human language ever) – “It worrr even me tho! I day do it! It was ‘im an’ all! Yer mom!!!” (Translation: “I am completely innocent. Another person is responsible for this offence. I also believe that you are a foolish person.”)

Add to this industrial nightmare a laughable list of ‘tourist attractions’, such as Dudley Zoo, whose only animal attractions consist of a few snails, some shell-shocked wallabies, and an emaciated lion. There is also the Black Country museum (not a bad day out actually, but very overpriced. Quite Chav free, though, because they can’t afford admission on the dole.) Neither of these attractions are worth the visit. Especially not the zoo. Recently a group of primary school kids broke into Dudley Zoo and beat a baby wallaby to death and threw it into a pond. This is the mindset of the youth of Dudley. If you think the current generation of chav is bad, you ain’t seen NOTHING yet.


Written by Anonymous Visitor and posted in United Kingdom, West Midlands, West Midlands

Even as a new user, I’m surprised to see the lack of reference to Dudley in your lovely site.
Ahh, my home town. The place that God forgot. Trust me, readers, if chavs were aeroplanes, Dudley is a f*****g international airport.
The interests of the Dudley chav include many delightful and generally illegal things. When they’re not spending their time impregnating people called Destiny/Liberty/Trinity in bus shelters, the average Barry enjoys ‘goin down da showcase’. Dudley showcase complex includes chav magnet attractions such as
da flicks, a bowling alley, KFC, and some rubbish chain restaurant which chavs would obviously see as just about as classy as it gets.
But naturally, the main reason for chav survival in the Dudley wilderness is Merry Hill. Or, as it is commonly known, ‘Da Mezzas’. Ideal spot for chav watching, shagging, shooting, whatever. All three tend to happen on a regular basis. It is quite simply a heaven for the typical Kev, Baz or Shaz, including delights such as the Footlocker, McDonalds (three of them. Three.), and da JJB lol. Discount Gold is another classy joint that does well up mezza’s, due to the fact it is the only place that sells ten-inch clown necklaces. The shop was also bombarded with burberry on the occasion that excessively large hoop earrings with small silver balls on the bottom got reduced from five quid to, er, £4.99.
Stourbridge is also a migration spot for Dudley chavs. The reason for this being the Monday under-18 night at the Picture House. This piece-of-s**t club, as it is commonly known by those with a sense of smell, is where da ppl go to fockin, fockin err, pump an grind innit lol. Obviously this will never compare to the urban legend that is Chill, Friday nights at Telford ice rink. Lord knows how many people have lost their virginities to chavs in that park. Or that queue.
May I introduce you to a friend of mine. He goes by the name of Dean Wittz. We daren’t ask what his middle name is due to the likely event of his producing a flick-knife. We think it’s Mary.
Dean lives in the sunny town of Pensnett. This quaint village is an unlikely place to find scut or s**t.
Like f**k it is, it’s where Dean lives.
In his own words, Dean enjoys activities such as:

I lyk chattin up girl’z
I lyk dance an trance LOL
Hangin an trekin wit m8s
Drug’z
Car’z
Toyota Supra’z
Subaru Impreza’z

The list goes on.
He claims his favourite quotes to be:

Hu da fock iz dat and av I got er numba
Yo yo yo ppl in da ouse
Nat iz fit I wish I was wiv her!!!!! 😛

You get the picture. Pretty traumatic stuff. His other hobbies include scratching my friend Kim’s name into his arm. Apparently now he has chosen to court a certain ‘Nat’ seemingly because ‘her iz fit ay her’.
And so it is, Dudley. NOW you know where you’ll be spending your next holiday.
As far away from the s**t hole as possible.


Written by Anonymous Visitor and posted in United Kingdom, West Midlands, West Midlands

The epicentre for chavs and all things cheap and tacky. The place where one has to seek refuge inside from the less than fresh, cigarette smoke filled air which hangs over the town like a cloud. Lard arse, tattooed women wearing their mandatory clown necklaces, large, gold hooped earrings, purchased from the cut price jewellers in the Wulfrun Centre. Usually a kid or five in tow, invariably named Paige, Keeley, Kylie, Jordan, Brad, Todd and Brandon.
The males of this peculiar species also favour lots of heavy gold jewellery and can often be seen with a Staffordshire Bull Terrier (usually called Tyson) at their side.
Many shops are of the discount variety and stink of piss and other unpleasant body odours.
The natives of this wretched town can barely string a coherent sentence together.
Continue reading “Dudley” »


Written by Anonymous Visitor and posted in United Kingdom, West Midlands, West Midlands

A Guided Tour of the Chavviest Town in the Midlands

A clear winner for the title of Chavviest Town in the Midlands (although I admit it faces stiff competition from Kidderminster and Telford), Dudley has it all. Follow me on a tour of the wonderland…

Our journey starts at Dudley Bus Station. Let’s start with a game. Stand by the main entrance and award one point to each person who looks vaguely normal (i.e. not shaven-headed, tattooed, bleached blond, adorned with Burberry and/or bling, not strangely bearded, any woman whose backside is less than the width of the bus shelter). You’ll not reach 10 points.

Next stage is the Kwik Save. This is just over the road from the Bus Station. I’ve nothing against Kwik Save in general (I shop there regularly, why pay extra for branded breakfast cereals, coffee and tea from somewhere else?) but Dudley Kwik Save plumbs new depths of depravity. Last time I went in I couldn’t fill my shopping bags on the shelves at the end because some urchin was sitting up there eating chips while being ignored by his mother.

Then we have a choice. We can either look at the boarded-up shops on Birdcage Walk (remember this is next to the bus station where presumably pedestrian flow is quite high) or we can enter the Churchill Centre. The Churchill Centre is adorned with various EU flags with the word “welcome” in different languages (“Bienvenue”, “Wilkommen” etc.), and houses a Tourist Information Centre, in a comic attempt to imply that Dudley is an international tourist magnet.

The Churchill Centre opens out onto the High Street. Here we might pause to spot Teddy Gray’s Sweets, a long-established local firm which operates one of a handful of good shops in this town.

The High Street is wide, flanked by shops on both side and has the world-renowned Dudley Market running down its centre. Frequently your ears are assailed by some cowboy butcher selling diseased pork chops from a white van somewhere. This is also the main chav-spotting location in Dudley – smell that chip fat! You might visit one of the many lovely shops (Woolworth’s is generally acknowledged to be the poshest). There are few decent shops at all in Dudley – they’ve all moved to Merry Hill down the road in a graphic example of the effects of building out-of-town shopping centres.

Follow me now as we walk down the High Street towards Bottom Church (at the lower end of the High Street, as opposed to Top Church at the other end, I kid you not). This takes us to the Broadway. We could turn left towards Dudley College (I wouldn’t recommend it) but instead we will go right towards one of Dudley’s top tourist destinations, the Zoo.

Described as “Britain’s most modern zoo” (in 1934), Dudley Zoo would induce even the most-hardened animal torturer into donating money to the RSPCA. The very worst section (the “Geochron Exhibition Centre”) – a nightmare of concrete – is thankfully no longer imprisoning polar bears but the rest remains, including the pathetic sea-lion pool. In the middle of all this is Dudley Castle, reputedly haunted and the source of one of my favourite Dudley quotes ever.

As you might imagine, Dudley’s local councillors are not burdened with excessive intelligence. When the castle drains were the site of an archeological excavation in the 1980s, and a 16th century condom was found (one of the earliest to be found anywhere in the world), a councillor was heard to comment happily “This shows we have always practised safe sex in Dudley”.

If only it were true. From the Castle tower you can see all of Dudley’s many lovely suburbs: Wren’s Nest, the Priory estate etc. A recent advert I saw for a teacher at Wren’s Nest Primary included the phrase “ideal if you relish a challenge”. The Priory is the home of three 9 and 10 year olds who broke into the Zoo and tortured a baby wallaby.

I worked in Dudley for a year. I have made a vow never to go back there.