Hatfield- the diahorrea of England

Hatfield, Shatfield, Crackfield, Whatever you want to call it, it all means the same thing… never mind the ******** of england, Hatfield is the Diahorrea.

I moved here in the late 90’s, full of hopes and expectations, even got excited when I saw ‘The Galleria’ because it looked like a pretty cool place to hang out at the weekend. How wrong could I be??!

Most places have their good bits and their bad. At least thats what I thought until I arrived here. I’ve now lived in Shatfield for 7 years and I still have yet to find a single solitary good thing about it. (if I am wrong and theres something Im missing, someone please let me know!)

How grim is your Postcode?

The ‘town centre’ is full of pound shops that sell second hand **** youll never need, a market full of burberry and hoopy earrings and more ***** than you ever thought were possible to fill such a small place. Every single corner you look round, there are about 10 *****, ranging in age from 10 to 60- in Hatfield, you’re never too old or young to be a **** here. In fact, if you’re not a grandparent by the tender age of 25 then you’re out of place.

You go to asda (possibly the most exciting thing in the whole town) and its full of things you could hardly even call human- “women” whose beards are so long they actually take time to comb them, alcohol isles full of 14 year olds hoping to get that 10th bottle of 20/20, teenage mums and many people unable to even string a sentence together that they can barely manage a grunt.

Then you have the crackwhore house a.k.a “Queensway House”. Hardly fit for a Queen, though if you hang around there long enough you might think you are one, after getting high off the fumes. Full of kids and teenagers ******* outside, sparking up crack joints and and hurling abuse, rocks and anything they can get their hands on at anyone who dares to walk past.

Then theres the hilltop- imaginatively called because its on the top of a hill. The scene outside Queensway house is repeated outside the ‘onestop’- probably so called because anyone with an inch of common sense would go there once and never come back. There’s also a pub nearby where on a weekly basis people get glassed, bottled and arrested for GBH. The most sane people in there are the ‘special’ people from the local community hospital. Now that really has to say something.

Moving onto the adjacent roads near to the hilltop. I’m sure that many of you who have had the lovely experience of Hatfield will have noticed the ice-cream van.Yes the one that goes around at 1am in NOVEMBER… Now hes really not selling ice cream is he?

I live fairly nearby to the wonderful ‘hilltop’, and down my road in the past year (i.e. since January 2006…) there have been 2 arrests for crack dealing, 1 arrest of prostitution, 1 arrest of a guy stamping on his girl’s head, 2 car thefts, 2 burglaries and we mustnt forget the notorious baby rapists.

Hatfield, Crackfield, Shatfield. A couple of weeks ago we had the bomb squad swarming the place trying to detonate some un-exploded bombs which were found from the 2nd world war.

Can’t you just have let them go off?