Flint – the ******** of the world

Living in Flint, Wales

Ever walked into a full blown western in a small welsh town? Where the men are angry and the women are scared? (and scary) – welcome to Flint, the jewel in a **** based crown. One has to be careful in Flint, or one may end up on the wrong end of a pool cue. You see, there are a few big families in Flint, all fighting for the title of ‘hardest family’, and, what makes it worse is that EVERYONE here is related to one of these families some way or another.

Everyone’s called Jade, Kelly, Gaz or Daz, and they all like to drink in the local flea pit pubs and have a scrap with a newcomer at closing time. The women are rougher than the blokes (probably due to the fact the blokes are responsible for ‘toughening them up’ through domestic violence – i don’t have space on both hands to count the amount of times i’ve heard a Flint female say ‘no woman will ever knock me down after the hidings my (insert middle aged **** alcoholic’s name here) has given me’, whilst lighting up a rothmans *** or a drum roll up with a scarred, gnarled sovereign adorned hand).

That’s the old timers out of the way, now let’s look at the new breed, the ‘uber’ ****. There are many of these in Flint – older teens and people in their twenties to thirties who work hard (graft) and go out and take coke on their ‘bold street’ nights out in Liverpool. Let’s look at the blokes. They’ll pump themselves full of steriods (the current Flint ‘hero’, coincidentally is part of one of the big families, backward and MASSIVE owing to too many ******** in his fat ****), spend £300+ on some prada shirt that’s too tight and make sure they stink to high heaven of hugo boss or whatever aftershave from an ad that’s impressed them that week, lines such as ‘you have beautiful skin/eyes/hair’ dripping from their mouths as pretty girls walk by, and £800 of drug dealing money stuffed in their ‘moc croc ralph lauren’ wallet.

How grim is your Postcode?

The women will go to great lengths to entrap this type of bloke, straightening their peroxide frazzled hair to within an inch of it’s life, donning all manner of tomfoolery around their neck and telling everyone within earshot that they’ve just done coke in the toilets and they feel ‘well off their ‘ead’, and they are looking for a ‘paaaaaarty’ Now, these are the people that if you accused them of being ****-like, they would snort in disgust at you and call you jealous of their coke fuelled, designer label wearing, party going lifestyle, but the fact is, these people are a worse breed than their poorer counterparts. Lets look at these poor sods…..We’ll call them the ‘Monday morning post office crawlers’.

You’ll see them every Monday, sayers sausage roll in hand, brand new catalogue tracksuit on still with creases in it because they couldn’t wait to show it off, standing outside the post office in Flint, with the other hand on a pram. If the sayers savoury food is not in sight, there will almost certainly be a mobile phone on the go, and the conversation will be about fighting, drugs or other people’s kids, and how they saw them being badly treated but are unwilling to do anything about it ‘cos the dad’s hard’. These people do nothing all day but flit from Social security office trying to get a crisis loan to buy coke or speed for the weekend, council house to badly decorated council house and drink copious amounts of value tea and smoke rolling tobacco or cheap **** ‘cos Caf’s just bin to spain an brought loads back’ and **** off the way people bring their kids up and whinge about how badly their blokes treat them, all the while doing nothing about it but swear revenge one day…. ‘i’ll put a knife in that ******* one o these days’ Haha – WELCOME TO FLINT – POPULATION 6,000, RULED BY A LITTLE DUDE FROM A BIG FAMILY, AIDED BY A BIG DUDE WITH A LITTLE BRAIN.