Insanely, and for family reasons, I’ve lived in Birkenhead for twenty years now and am hoping to make my escape very soon. Originally from Didsbury in Manchester, the horror show that is life in Birkenhead soon revealed itself to me and I spent the whole of my child’s upbringing fending off bullies, *****, scallies and general reprobates.
Vim Gak & Tennents Super
Round here there is something wrong with you if you have a job, want to live without making other people’s lives a misery, and don’t pass your time drinking Tennents Super whilst snorting cocaine cut with vim. Kids are kept strapped into pushchairs and fed sausage rolls and cans of coke from the moment they are weaned. Teaching them consists of screaming abuse at them whilst on a massive, aggressive coke comedown.
You can’t walk into town without a urine drenched, needle-poked crackhead whining at you for spare change. Call the police about anti social behaviour and they [allegedly] come and join in. Get spotted reading a book and you get publicly ridiculed and abused. And that’s just the school staff…
Birkenhead isn’t already here because I’m the only person who can write or spell in the whole town. The height of ambition for women is to get with a dealer, have ten kids on the social and sell her [thing we can’t mention] on the Internet. The height of ambition for men is to have the most prison tattoos, be a dealer, rip off a crop and get with a woman whose [thing we still can’t mention] is on the Internet.
It’s grim oop North
They say it’s grim up North. They haven’t got a clue. If you own your house, and believe me, don’t buy a house here, adults and children don’t believe you and look at you like you have two heads. Don’t try to have a quiet drink with your mates in any of the pubs here. If you do and you’re male, you’ll end up in A&E with a bottle sticking out of your head. If you’re female and do same, you’ll end up in forensics, forcibly impregnated with the b*stard child of a three brain celled Neanderthal. His girlfriend will have also planted a bottle in your head so you know where to go after the police station.
It’s only in the last five years I’ve seen any minority groups brave or desperate enough to attempt to live here. It’s rubbed in your nose if you have become too depressed to make enough cash to escape, by being surrounded by countryside, beaches and nice places to live on the Wirral, such as Heswall. The place is so bad I’ve written poems about it, and I don’t like inflicting that on anyone.
The place is known as Brokenhead by the few relatively OK people who live here. And that says it all. The very few brain cells shared by the majority here are destroyed by the aforementioned vim cocaine and special brew. There is a mental health or drug centre at the end of every second street. There are so many ASBO families here the council has nowhere left to move people on, so they just get allowed to stay.
Sickos and thickos
The other side of Birkenhead is the multitudes of fundamentalist Christian groups, moving in to take advantage of the brain cell droutage. Smiling through covid, thinking it’s end of days and we’re getting what we deserve if we don’t join them. Sickos and thickos, possibly the most depraved, selfish, pointless people in England. There’s no reason to visit, but the only people who relocate here are naïve to it’s horrors or, more often running from the law.
I cannot stress enough what a dirtbag of a town this is!! Run like the wind!! I know I am, now I’m free to!!