Halifax

It’s nothing short of disgraceful that Halifax hasn’t yet had an entry in the list of towns with high chavness, but this balance is now to be redressed.
To the serious ****-spotter, that breed that is prepared to travel to indulge in their hobby, a trip to Halifax in the West Riding is well worth the effort.
There are a number of **** hotspots where the greater-spotted (Especially on their acne-ridden faces) **** can be seen in their natural habitat. A birdwatcher may look for birds near a source of nest building material – in the case of the ****, then it’s Argos, and the branch on Horton street is extremely well located – opposite the social security office, so the well dressed **** can make a withdrawal from their “bank”, then simply cross the road to get “chavved-up” with the latest fashions.
Feeding grounds are important to birds potters, and the chavspotter should immediately check out McDonalds in Oldmarket, where he/she will be rewarded with many a fat ******** sat against the window outside stuffing her ugly face with lard-soaked ****, whilst her male counterpart provides income for the partnership by mugging teenagers of their mobile phones in the doorway.
Last but not least, the chavspotter mustn’t leave Halifax without checking out the “social” area for chavness in Yorkshire – the corner of Southgate precinct and King Edward Street.
One particular ******** of note can usually be seen here helping sell newspapers. The spotter can admire her many colourful tattoos, and if he/she can’t be bothered walking over to see her – then just aim a magnet at her face and she will be drawn over by her copious facial piercings.
In King Edward Street itself, the spotter will hear the call of the adult **** to her young “Chelsea/Chloe, get the f*** over here”. Milling around the bus stops, you will see a sea of Kappa jackets – that is of course providing the nicotine fog from 100 cheap cigarettes lifts for a moment. This concentration is explained by the fact that this is where the buses depart for the **** pits of Mixenden and Illingworth – delightful Yorkshire villages full of community spirit. The free races, followed by impromptu barbeques when the racing vehicles are set alight, provide weekend’s entertainment there. The irony that the residents vote in BNP councillors because they don’t like “idle scrounging asylum seekers getting it all and not having to work for it” is happily lost in Mixenden/Illingworth.

How grim is your Postcode?