Albrighton, within the Telford Chavdom

Albrighton is within a stone’s throw of the sprawling chavdoms of Telford and Shitnal – sorry, Shifnal, so I suppose this should excuse the state to which the village has now sunk. Albrighton is fairly small and split roughly in half – one side of the High Street is populated mainly by retired teachers and religious types, but outside that demographic (on ‘that’ side of the High Street) all you get are benefit shoppers and their **** offspring. As there is nothing for the average teenage **** to do in Albrighton (all community events being geared towards aforementioned coffin-dodgers on the rich side, and ***** by nature not being capable of seeking out wholesome social activities) they tend to congregate on a nightly basis and roam around the village centre. After nicking some **** and bacardi breezers from Stars they’ll try getting served at the three ‘respectable’ pubs along the high street before ending up in the local ****-magnet, the Shrewsbury Arms or ‘Shrew’ as it is affectionately known locally. As the management and staff here are all top notch scutters they are naturally quite willing to serve alcohol to 13-year-old fellow *****. This carnival of the grotesque (or ‘**** meat market’) regularly puts on popular **** nights (eg. Sticky Vicky, that local **** legend) that attract the ***** from near and far. It is also the local watering hole for the RAF ***** from nearby Cosford air base, and so ever-increasingly popular with up-and-coming teenage *********.

Once booted out of the Shrew after the inevitable police raid the ***** will be forced to head down to Donnington Pool to ingest various illegal substances and play chicken with the oncoming traffic. Once that thrill has worn off they’ll head back up to the clock outside the Red House and loiter on the benches, shouting obscenities at passers-by and glaring jealously at the drinkers opposite in the Crown. At chucking-out time they’ll make a move to avoid being beaten up and will more than likely walk down Crossroads to the local primary school, New House Lane, to break into the swimming pool. Unfortunately none of them have managed to drown themselves yet.

Fortunately the ***** in Albrighton are all fairly young, and so I suppose there is hope for them yet. I’ve seen a few conversions from promising **** into normal person in my time here. Unfortunately though, the majority tend to marry and produce the next generation of ****** ***** as soon as the occasion presents itself (ie. around the age of 16), and then they progress into Telford council property as Albrighton prices are (inexplicably for such a ********) really high. For the rest of us young people, the only course of action is to get out as soon as possible. I’ve lived here from the age of 8 (am now 21) apart from 3 years at uni, and I’m so desperate not to spend the rest of my life here that I’m emigrating to France. Enough said.

How grim is your Postcode?