For those who know the jewel in eastern Scotland’s crown Edinburgh is fond to many. An historic and picturesque capital city, steeped in heritage and culture, ‘Auld Reekie’ really is a fantastic place throughout the year – especially during the later summer months when the world famous International and Fringe festivals descend… a time I look forward to and/or pine for during the three other long seasons one must endure…
Q. The reason?
A. ‘Schemie wee bams’ – that’s right, people of insight! The common or garden C**T.
The fantastic thing about the Edinburgh Festival is that the centre of town, with it’s long shopping street Princes Street and it’s various Old Town wynds and closes, is so busy with cultured and friendly adventurers and performers from all over the world. The native ‘insightful’ individual will enjoy and blend effortlessly into the hub-bub of interesting activity… Not your Chav though. Oh no… This little Lacoste wearing s**t-spray will find it difficult to interact and ‘mingle’ within this foriegn and multicultural melting pot. It’s not suprising mind you, as the pock-faced wee joy rider is as simple as Simon from generations of vitamin deficient ancestry and a ‘modern’ habit sociale known in certain circles as “sniffing the f**k out of two PritSticks, ya nobrash.” ( a term of endearment it is not ).
As quickly as the festival comes, the ‘gaggles’ ( collective term ) of Chavs disappear. Back to the outskirts and their fag-ash council houses and up-the-duff Michelle’s, back to the arcade to fill the bandits with social security money and guzzle MD 20/20, back to the future for all I give a f**k! Just glad that they are out of my ear, eye, and smell-shot… tiny little scuttling cancers, the lot of them.
But, as granny always said: ” Don’t count your chickens before they have hatched, my dear “. The festival is gone and in they swoop, on the 25 bus… like moths to a lightbulb. Scoffing salt and vinegar chipsticks and slapping their cabbage children with a soveriegn-blessed paw. Calling old ladies ” C**T ” because they complain about the smell of Lambert and Butler being ‘tanned’ on the back seat.
Grunting into their stolen mobile phones about aquiring an eighth of hash ‘on tick’ until their benefits come in… I can feel the hairs stand up on my arms as I type this… These are not peoples of this world – these organisms have been put here to test us. They have been put here to test us by God. He is saying ” Can my beautiful creatures withstand this awful race of putrid Giro-cashing, teenager-fingering, antifreeze-inhaling leeches? Perhaps they will revert to the Nazi Germany method of control “
As some have always said. The Nazis had the right idea… they just focused on the wrong group.
CHAV NESTING AREAS:
Pilton, CraigMiller, Niddrie, etc.
CHAV SOCIAL HOTSPOTS:
Princes Mall and adjacent ‘Mickey D’s’, South Bridge, Fountain Park.
CHAV BUZZ WORDS:
Bawbag, Bam, Root, Pie, Raj, Dick.