People have bought up Bedford before, that sleepy market town, set by the river Ouse, where even the geese are discriminated against… But enough of this idyllic scene.
Four very chavvy things have come to my attention over the last few days and how they shock me to the core.
The first being Burberry “Chav” check trainers. There are limits somewhere but when some Chav dole scum client of mine (yes, I’m employed trying to help these lost individuals) showed them to me, I almost vomited over them. And they cost the twat £95 and he thought they were a bargin! That’s little Brittneys meals gone for another fortnight then… Best bit was when another of my not so chavvy clients told him he could have picked them up on ebay for a fiver!
The next traumatic sight was chav moped users doing wheelies in that Chav central of Putnoe, but not the nice side. Had to trail his white nikes on the ground to stop himself from falling backwards mind.
Tiny chavs drinking lager in bus shelters is another. A common sight I hear you say but not generally at 10:30 on a Sunday morning and the five of the ALL WEARING THE SAME! Not sure which was worse there, the Chav clones or seeing them drinking that early on a sunday morning.
The worst thing I saw though was the middle aged Chavette wearing Pineapple joggers, in white, with her bum hanging to the back of her knees, black suede tassle boots and a tiny baby pink Playboy top. Good thing I was in Boots and received the necessary medical treatment when I passed out…
I thought I’d seen it all but how wrong I am.