Grays – the ******** of England

Take it from me – you do not want to ever visit this godforsaken ********. The only reason to go there is to pass through on the way to Tilbury – and you don’t want to bother with that toilet either.

I had the gross misfortune to have to live in Grays for 18 months and couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The women are real geezers. If they’re not anorexic due to alcohol and drugs, they’re obese – due to alcohol and drugs. If they haven’t got their hair greased back into a ponytail, they have skinhead crops. Whatever, they are badly bleached orange blonde and wear baseball caps anyway.

How grim is your Postcode?

No matter what their size or age, these munters wear greying (ex-white) vest tops to show off their treetrunk sized tattoo laden arms and shorts to complement their cellulite ridden wobbly white thighs. I’m surprised they can lift their arms due to the countless cheap and tacky gold sovreign rings on each finger (and thumb).

Have you ever heard the phrase “would make a navvy blush”? that was surely invented for this species of geezerburd. They use more swearwords than vowels.

In my old street, there were two terraced houses which were full of ***** – literally. About eight teens per house – plus their mothers – no fathers though. The kids used to fight at the drop of a hat and screw on the wall outside their houses (and on the residents cars – dirty little ********) all hours of the night, no matter what the weather. They slept all day. I know this because the mothers would turn out with the kids around 4pm in their dressing gowns and would invariably end up ripping each other’s hair out!

No wonder there’s so many ****** kids there, they don’t stand a chance with mothers like that. Still, with the average age of grannies being 25, what can you expect?

As I don’t want to be completely negative, I will add a positive too.

:::The best thing about Grays? The M25.