Dewsbury’s grand industrial past has well and truly ended evident by the amount of filthy, scabby faced scallys which now litter the streets, here dogsh*t is less of a problem than the amount of spit everywhere from the filthy creatures.
Here, if u don’t wear nike trainers or ‘s**t stoppers’ (trakkys) then you are automatically named a goth or a mosher which incidently is one of the few poly-syllabic words they know besides ‘fucki*ng’.
Dewsbury’s wide range of charity shops give the modern Dewsbury c**v the perfect oppotunity to drool over things they MAY ACTUALLY BE ABLE TO BUY one day.
Earlsheaton and Chickenly are deffinatly no go areas for anyone who is wearing any black at all. Armys of the Burberry clad, scrawny little sh*ts can be found ‘socialising’ in Earlsheaton park on a friday night pouring down white lightning and the occasional can of carling they managed to nick off their chain smoking, fat arsed mothers (fathers don’t exist in c**v land). Step into the park and expect to be flattened by a Chavalanche.
Chickenly consists mainly of inter war prefabricated tin houses, perfect for the incubation of lil c***s until they are big enough to ride a mini bike and terrorise on a larger scale (this is usually about five). Until then they stay within the inner circle of council houses and a c**v child can usually tell when they stray out of this circle when it can’t smell piss anymore.
The Dewsbury Crew is a gang who like to make everyones life a misery. They meet and probably live in Dewsburys indoor market and these people are total s**m. They can be indentified by a mathematically impossible amount of sovereign rings on each hand and terrible acne problems.