Trowbridge is a small town of narrow minded conservatives who think that they are liberals. It is basically in the middle of no-where and thus the residents have to work hard to find entertainment.
The majority of residents are ***** (or ‘townies’ as they are sometimes know). Of course, there are some people who are not *****, but most decent people moved out years ago – like I plan to when I have finished 6th form.

A tour of Trowbridge…

Welcome to my **** town. Where shall I start? I could start with the disgusting state of the town centre or the gormat resteraunt for the townie – McDonalds (or as young ***** call it, MaccyD’s). No, I shall start with Fore Street. Fore Street has some quite nice historic buildings, but alas, anything of note has been totally destroyed by **** 20 somethings looking for a bit of entertainment on a Saturday night when the doorman at the nightclub refuses to let them in. Quite often, you will find that someone has urinated in the already litter flowerbeds (or should that be bottle-beds?) because they can’t get into the park toilets because they are locked at night since the second week they were first open due to many ***** getting drunk at Weatherspoons and then mistaking the toilets for their house.
In an ally off Fore Street, you will find the sacred home of the cheapskate ****. Now not everyone who goes to Bargain Box is a ****, since some of their stuff is quite good value, but many ***** also use the store. Every Saturday afternoon, you will find fourteen year old mums pushing their screaming toddler with the help of totally stoned Gran. These teenage mums purchase tawdy toys that most kids wouldn’t be seen dead with. After this the teenage mums (complete with screaming toddler and stoned out Gran) head down to the market to purchase some more Burberry for their ever growing collection.
After this, the ‘happy’ family head down to McDonalds for lunch and then to the park for a quick ***.
Ah, all in a day’s work for a **** in Trowbridge!

How grim is your Postcode?

Trowbridge is like the **** of Wiltshire, but not a JLo useful sort of ****, more like your average fat smelly ****. One of the prettiest counties in the UK needs somewhere to throw its sausage factories, its scabby markets and all the other ****-friendly amenities, whilst the rest of the county enjoys relatively ****-free communities.

The ***** sure love their chavmobiles in Trowbridge. Gold hoop earrings, burberry caps and tracksuits all come a distant second to the ultimate in **** coolness in Trowbridge, the chavmobile. Cars of choice include the Nova and Saxo, but superchavs have also been known to neon-up the grandparents Nissan Micras to show off in the ultimate chavmobile playground – the Monaco of the chavmobile season if you will – McDonalds car park.

Before I continue, some history on the now historic **** hang out should perhaps be highlighted, just to prove that those pesky ***** are not as stupid as we may think, and the ingenuity of them should not be underestimated. Firstly they **** out in the Great Mills car park, but those feisty government folk decided enough was enough and placed barriers across the entrance. The palace of **** was no more, but undeterred those clever ***** decided to drive their two-inch-from-the-ground Novas and Micras over a foot high ridge to enter the car park. At first this had a Loch Ness style almost mythical status in the local area, no one had actually witnessed the chavmobiles going off-road into the car park but we all heard the stories. Sure enough, it soon became clear this was what they were up to. So the council folk erected two foot high bollards on the one foot high ridge which still stand today, the ***** were banished forever. Anyone who has ever seen a **** knows one thing though, no matter how hard people try to get rid of them, they always come back, golder, burberryer, chavier, and with even more exotic sports cars to show off (like the legendary 106 with 6 exhaust pipes said to come out late at night), they set up a new home in the McDonalds car park, which conveniently closes at 11pm, just as they need to head home, turn off the neon, get the girlfriends back in time to get some sleep before school, and return the cars to the grandparents anyway.

Standard issue Saturday afternoon ***** can also be found in the obvious places as well, the sports shops, the parks, and more increasingly in the local pubs, the ***** are branching out and taking over the town, and there is nothing that can be done about it.

It’s also worth mentioning another exciting development in the **** world, the **** turf wars. It seems the Trowbridge ***** don’t get along with the Warminster ***** (who sadly have even more **** troops, and far brighter cars), many a ****-bundle has occured down the years, blood splattered Burberry has not been an uncommon site.

Finally if anyone ever should doubt the ********* of Trowbridge, the local police actually issued a statement to local Vauxhall Nova owners a few years ago as they were all being stolen. I feel this sums it up perfectly.