A dominant male rat may mate with up to 20 female rats in just six hours. The average male c**v reading this is Boston (which is unlikely because he was most probably a past pupil of Haven High) would wonder what all the fuss was about. He would probably consider getting in some alcoholic supplies from the C**v Harrod’s – ASDA, cleaning his souped-up Peugeot 106 and slipping in a crafty w**k in font of Babestation on Sky in-between engagements.
The town of Boston, a c**v stronghold, has at least taken some steps to control the spread of chavism in the town. The ASDA superstore built on heavily polluted land (somehow appropriate) is within pushchair pushing distance of the c**v fortress of the Fenside estate, allowing large parts of the town to be spared most of the hard-core c***s for the majority of the day.
In a similar vein the main connecting roads have been liberally sprinkled with road humps designed to scrape the underside of whatever lowered-suspension c**v-mobile they are packed into.
On Friday and Saturday nights the chavisation of the town is complete. Chavettes sit on the roundabout benches in the market-place picking fights with passer-bys and each other. C**v-lites (those who adopt the culture, but have proper jobs in the week) adopt the main pubs around town. Real C***s inhabit the pub / nightclub of ‘Cactus Jacks’ as it serves sickly cocktails and allows free entry for early arrivals. Some people think that the club is so named because it is full of little pricks.
The shopping complex comprising Aldi / McDonalds / MFI / Carpet right / Halfords built a couple of years ago was perfect c**v territory, and it was soon colonised by the C***s who hung out in the car park, admired each other’s wheels and threw the occasional doughnut in their souped-up Peugeots to keep the wannabe chavettes in awe. Whilst anti-c**v devices (large yellow locked barriers) were later employed, the nearby PC world car-park provides overspill accommodation for the nocturnal fun.
The Boston c**v has low expectations, a Peugeot 106, a women or two up the duff and he is content. After all, Boston is known as the ‘Lobster pot’ – easy to get into, but impossible to get out of. Better to be a human unsatisfied than a c**v satisfied.
Boston C**v City
I hereby put forward my nomination for the C**v capital of the UK as Boston, Lincolnshire. After travelling around much of the country, I have noticed that most towns have a good share of baseball cap wearing, Eminem criminal wanabees and hoop earinged, gum chewing little slags. But only one place to me seems especially built as a breeding ground for these human larvae.
An important part of C**v development is a poor quality of education. The local schools try in vain to battle against the dominance of the C**v parent. The gathering of cigarette smoking mothers waiting outside Carlton Road School are a prime example. I once saw a child waiting with his mother, playing with a piece of rubbish. The mother was obviously concerned and chose to set the child right…
“GIT ‘ERE OR I’LL GIVE YA A BASTARD PUNCH!”
The child was obviously kept out of school in order to get this special ‘at home’ education. My brother also experienced the ‘underclass’ while walking by the school. A young mother was walking her kids back to the Fenside estate when one of them commented on my brothers attire…
“Look Mum! He isn’t even wearing sports gear!”
After dropping the future ASBO’s off at school, an absolute haven for the c**v is Kwiksave, where the c***s sample culinary delights in the Kwiksave café. A nice large window allows you to show off your cheap ‘gold’ jewellery and home made tattoos, while wondering if the smell of sizzling lard is coming from your dripping food or if your non-stop smoking of fags is cooking your bloated body from the inside. Kwiksave is the perfect place for the c**v, since it is next to the social security building AND the police station. So after a good old shouting and swearing session in both, you can go thieving some cheap rubbish from nearby WiseOwl or Scooby Doos without expending too much energy. If you have a heroin habit (and you probably do) then you will be desperate enough to travel further to Woolworths to get your filthy sticky fingers on some stuff to flog and Christmas presents for the ever expanding family. It is here around the centre of town that you will probably run into your kids that are wagging school and are taking the piss out of innocent passers by.
Boston also has to be C**v Central after its recent well publicised riot after England lost to France in Euro 2004. Drink has been blamed, BNP involvement has been blamed, though I can’t help but feel that the main reason is that a good skinfull and a punch up in a kebab shop are the major forms of weekend entertainment in Boston. This is a place where teachers are the enemy, the council is the enemy, police are the enemy and heroin and booze are your friends. What a bunch of s**m.