It’s 9:15 on a typical Northampton morning. I’m walking through town on my way to the bank when there’s a disturbance behind me. I spin around and suddenly the realisation hits me….. it’s giro day.
The top of Abington Street is suddenly a sea of Burberry-topped prams and pushchairs as the teenage mothers rush to be first in line at Greggs to get the kids ‘samfink gud inside em lark’. That’s right folks, I was stood bang in the centre of a Northampton Dole-day Chav-pede –that’s kind of like a stampede only with less intelligent animals–.
As the masses flooded past me I spotted one girl who I used to know; who only a few years ago looked set to graduate University and go on for a decent job. Now she’s one of them. Hair scraped back and plastered with market-stall hairspray, two kids in a double buggy laden with cans of Special Brew to allow for a lower centre of gravity for traversing those tight Job Centre queue lines. What struck me more than anything though was the fact that she used to be quite a good looking girl; now I wouldn’t touch her with yours. Probably got a minge like a lorry driver’s breakfast as well.
What’s happening to our society? A society where an intelligent, good-looking girl with a bright future can end up with a life about as appealing as demonstrating a home castration kit? I’ll tell you what’s happening; there’s an epidemic. Chavs are now branching out and corrupting others in order to further their race. The problem however, is that people don’t realize how easy it would be to cure this plague; it’s a simple case of taking a few elementary precautions.
Firstly, we need to approach Durex and make them release a White Lightning flavoured condom. The twist is that instead of being spermicidally lubricated they would be coated in sterilisation fluid. This would create an entirely sterile society of chavs, eradicating the fear of future generations of chavs flooding our educational establishments.
Secondly, to control the generation of chavs who are currently littering the doorsteps of Job Centres and Town Markets across the country, we must turn our attention to one of my favourite cultural icons. People, I ask you to cast your minds to a certain Simpsons episode; anyone recall Whacking Day? On a certain day during the summer –allowing honest, decent folk to make a day of it; maybe bring a picnic– everyone would come together and walk united on one giant Chav-hunt. Any weapon for ‘Whacking’ would be allowed –indeed encouraged– including, sticks, bats, lead pipes, chav-babies, etc. with a prize in each town for the most original ‘Whacking’ tool each year. ‘Chav Whacking’ would be taught in school, focusing on Physicality –how to inflict maximum pain–, Aim –kind of obvious– and ‘Whacking Tool’ design –to optimise performance–. I hope you’ll agree, a fun day out for all the family.
Thirdly, and this option is reserved solely for the highly unlikely event of ‘Whacking’ not managing to totally eradicate the chav culture, we have the option of ‘Roman Gladiators’, with chavs being pitted against each other in car parks across the country. A fight to the death until only chav remains. This individual would then be buried to their neck and pelted with cans of Special Brew until dead.
Next stop Tony Blair. Let’s make it law.