Daventry, Northamptonshire – Full of 10-toes-to-a-foot, forehead shaving, sportswear clad, hillbilly gimps.
A ghastly little town which has the misfortune to house some of the most vile social misfits ever to walk the planet.
The locals are thick and inbred – where you aren’t accepted in polite society unless mum, dad and sister comes to less than 3 people – sportswear is worn with copious amounts of gold rings and the XR2 with big rims is the chariot of choice.
Weekend activity is cider consumption, theft, vandalism, f*****g one’s siblings and spending dole money. There is very little left to talk about – hang out in the town centre at “Freddie’s Super Pub” (Really.. you get the picture?), smoke some crack in the toilets, down some booze, throw an ashtray and start a fight.
The council recently spoke to a marketing company to try and improve the image of this cesspool of humanity – their advice was “knock it down and build something nice.”
I live about 10 miles away, but visit here on a daily basis. I’ve been doing it for 10 months now and every time I get out of my car, I think I’m catching typhoid.