well well well… ely… that wonderful place with that fat old cathedral. The second smallest city in england, full of historical past with that oliver cromwell dude having lived just down the road… you can just imagine it now: a quiet place full of wonderfull cheery people….
yeah what ever. the townie age is here and they are everyting but cheery. At one point i think the descriptions of a local chav round here was: “some one that hates everyone and everything for just being there” god you have to love them! (not….)
them and their “blingin” or “beast” fashion, hell yeah! who wouldnt wanna be a townie!? you know you get to put your socks into your trousers and then buy (or nick, which is normally the case) any fake looking burburry or gold that rubs onto your skin giving you a nice green glow.
among chavettes of ely, the newest thing is the burbury handbag, in pink (fake of course). This has to be worn with any outfit, and your hair nicely gelled back into a tight side ponytail, with half a ton of orange concealer to hide their spotty skin that has occured from eating to many chips and dinky doughnuts in the town center on a saturday of boredem. Oh and of course the nice sky blue or baby pink eye shadow is piled way above the the eyelid, nice and thickly so that the colour would blind someone standing 10m away. Their tight mini skirts are now only seen with the latest boots covered in fluff to make you look “part abomonable snowman” , part chav. which is by no means human.
And of course we move on to chav pastimes in ely. These include largely, the smoking of weed to look “propa ard” infront of all your thuggish mates. Who are also there haivn a puff of the pointless drug, whilst swiggin back the cider in their lemonade bottles because its “not obvious” what they are doing. All the chavettes then turn up outside of waitrose on a friday night to finish off the weed and go and have a quickie on the other side of the car park. Neither of the townie couple will remember this as one is stoned and the other completely hyped up on cheap vodka.
And moving on to the oh so harsh comments and insults of a townie, yeah wat ever… their vocabulary hardley stretches beyond two syllable words so they find it hard to come up with better things than: Ya mum! and the oh so wonderfull: I’m gonna kik u in well bad.
And the cockyness of the chav boys. (was about to make the big mistake of calling them men then…) everytime a girl walks past their squashed up faces, its a wolf whistle and things like: give us a blow, or: wanna rag u, or: got a numba sweet heart? to which the average wonderfull people of the world like my self just reply with a flick of the of the middle finger, and a smile.
And a chav wouldnt be a chav without their pathetic fights that they “must” pick with anything that moves, that doesnt have ‘CHAV’ stamped all over it in fake burburry. At school the other day i witnessed a fight between the chavs and the grebs over… wait for it…. a………. BENCH! what a thing to fight for. the fact there was about another 3 benches not being used wasnt going to bother the chavs.
Oh and of course! How could i forget the cheap cars with the 10 year old paintwork, blasting rubbish dance tunes out of their speakers. and so that everyone can enjoy it, they make sure they wind the windows down and sit half out the car banging their heads in time to the simple beat (after all anything else might make their heads explode)
So welcome to Ely! that “wonderfull” “peacefull” city.