Written by Anonymous. Posted in North East, United Kingdom, Yorkshire

While most of the chavs in nearby Halifax are just little scallies who try to force you part with your twenny pees, the breed we have in Hebden are the hardcore type, that come round your house and set it on fire if you don’t want to part with your hard-earned small change. The town itself is fairly chav-free as most of the houses are far beyond the financial reaches of your Joe average scally, so they are forced to live in the colonies of Dodd Naze and Fairfield, each ten minutes walk from the town centre. These chav nests are so notorious that no non-chav would ever live there. As a result, these estates are creating a race of super-chavs, inbred to the point that they are born with the earings already in place and the uncontrollable urge to push their own pram around town. Care should be taken to avoid Birchcliffe Road on an evening, the main thoroughfare from Dodd Naze into town. Other places of disinterest are Greenwoods, a kind of wine-bar-cum-s******e that is so much of a pit that its actually about a metre below street level and you have to go down stairs to get into the place; The memorial gardens in the park, where drunken kids sit on the benches and glare at passers-by; The Spar and its surrounding area – where the chavs who can’t get into Greenwoods sit and try to buy white lightening, and the youth cafe on Hangingroyd Lane, a kind of project to educate problem kids from the local high school. Because three or four generations of chavs exist in hebden, everyone is related, so if you were to actually just give a scally a good kicking, their entire extended family would be round your house with bricks and firebombs within an hour. If you leave them alone, the chavs tend to keep themselves to themselves and largely ignore anyone who isn’t wearing a burberry cap and a shell-suit.

Definitely stay away from buses around the area – the same drunk couple seem to sit on the back seat of every halifax bus, making out and being sick. Usually there are a handful of chavettes who feel the need to accompany their journey by playing the latest choons on their mobile phone, that they have actually recorded off a string of mates phones so the song is distorded beyond recognition and just sounds like a loud ringing noise. The chav lads will play at bending the backs of the seats down so that they lie flat and find this really funny. If you’re really unlucky you will encounter a family on the way back from an outing to the benefits centre or the magistrates court. Taking up half of the bus the parents will sit and teach their babies to swear and talk loudly about who has just been “sent down.” Add to this lot the half a dozen or so people who just buy the bus pass each month because they don’t actually have a house, then you would be better off getting the train, or better still just not coming to hebden at all.


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