Second nomination for c**v capital of the UK
Ok, I’ve only heard of this new word, ‘c**v’, in the last few months, but it seems that these people(loose term) it describes have been around for ever. This is my contribution:
I moved to hemel hempstead in 1996 as I got a job offer I couldn’t refuse. 8 years on and the job is still the only thing keeping me here. Hemel is the a******e of the world, and the local c***s are just passing through(work out what that makes them!), it’s not even pronounced as hemel hempstead, it’s ’emel ’empstead, cause the little bastards can’t even spell their home town right. But you ask them for different words for marijuana and they know every one, wonder why?
I’ve lived in c**v towns before, notably swindon, stevenage, and luton, but this one takes the proverbial biscuit. It’s Hell on earth, and why, cause the little f*****s seem to think they run the place.
I’ve read the other reviews about this town, and they’ve all been spot on, but I want to add my own little bit, and maybe expand on their opinions.
The town centre: Marlowes, what a f*****g joke, every other shop is a c**v shop, and what isn’t has gone bust and is empty. You have your lot here, macdonalds, burger king, argos, 3 poundshops in 100 metres of each other, 5 different s******e sports-shops(and yes, JJB is here-the kids’ ambition’s here is to one day serve behind the counter of that shop), primark, amongst others.
Saturday afternoon walk through the marlowes and see if you can spot the biggest group of c***s either steaming through, or huddling around a bench, sharing a pack of 10 Benson, and a medium fries. My record so far is 11 girls in one group, and 14 boys in another. The girls all have the ‘essex facelifts'(hair scraped so tightly back that it lifts their face 2 inches), parkas with real fake fur, tight blue jeans, and lately black shin-high fake suede boots, with fake gold jewelry on any part of their body that happens to jut out(this includes ears, noses, lips, fingers,) boys have the obligatory light-blue burberry baseball cap, sports jacket, jeans, and trainers(normally reebok classic, in white) The jewelry is the same, ie, everywhere, but the hair is short, or gelled, but as they hardly ever remove their caps I can’t be sure.
Saturday night in hemel town centre is a laugh. 4 pubs, and everyone a chavpub. Harry’s, at the bottom of the market, is for p***y’s, who have aspirations of being a c**v, but blow all their money on alcopops, rather than fake burberry/adidas/nike, so will never make it as a c**v. Society has been empty lately, but used to be the clubbing c***s getting tanked up on smirnoff ice(upmarket drink for c***s) before heading up to wally world(more about this wonderful place later), now it just gets a few w*****s into crap DJ’s, and the football-shirted boys, who have never been to a game in their life.
The full house is an old peoples hang out in the day, on account of the cheap alcohol, then the evening its for the w*****s pre-wally world(how the society used to be). And my favourite, the hogshead, with two bouncers on the door. In fairness, this used to be a decent pub, but then some of the s**m from the Harry’s ventured out into the big wide world and found this place, and turned it into Harry’s 2.
The taxi rank is right outside this place, if you ever have the urge to take a punch or two from groups of c***s, then try and get a cab from here after 11pm.
And so, to wally world. It has the usual chavvy Macdonalds drive-thru, on a good night there are souped-up novas and fiestas as far as the eye can see. After negotiating the pools of vomit all around(a nice feature) you arrive into hotshots, bypassing jumpin jax(this is how it’s spelt!), a square bar in the middle of wally world. Here, you can see all the chavvy s**m wherever you look, and even get served by the c***s behind the bar. A few alcopops in here, then off to jumpin jax, where you queue to get in.This place is the cess-pit of hemel, a dive so bad that Saddam Hussien refused to hide in when he was on the run, it was so dirty. You have a stage here, for the fat c******e teenage mothers to dance on, if you ask nicely the bouncers will look after your pram with your sprog in it while you dance. This place has been playing the same music for years, same old s**t, I swear that depending on what time it is in there you can tell what the next record to come on will be!
This place shuts at 1pm, or after 3 fights have kicked off, whichever is later, then its on to visage, a short stumble/hop thru the vomit away.
this is like jumpin jax, but on a bigger scale, with more c***s, and more of the same music. As there is more room here, the groups of c***s tend to be bigger, I’ve seen 20 in a group, sharing a smirnoff ice and a joint. This is the place to come, but only if you want to die, as the bouncers wouldn’t know trouble if it hit them(!), as they are too busy trying to pull the 15 year old chavettes that frequent the place.
2am and it’s kicking out time, and kicking time, head over to macdonalds, it’s only got 4 bouncers on the door, not too much aggro there then!
I haven’t been to wallyworld in months, I’m waiting for them to bomb it then turn it into a sewage works, will be an improvement.
as for the rest of hemel, well workshy is an understatement. too many jobs, not enough braincells for some of these t*****s. I swear I had one guy turn up at my place of work the other night in a Hackett top, and burberry baseball cap, and his first question was: Can we smoke pot on our breaks? And that was the t****r’s first night!
To sum up, emel is the worst, and a nomination in crap towns 2004 proves I’m right, next year it will be number one, mark my words.
And yes, Ive read the local Gazzette with their ‘Happy in Hemel’ campaign, what a f*****g joke, people are only happy in hemel cause of all the benefit they get, after getting some bitch up the duff at the age of 15, and a flat in woodhall farm on their 16th birthday, they are well sorted. A couple of quid a week on chardonnay’s/tyrone’s nappies, and the rest can go on puff, cocaine, and a few nights in the arry’s, with a good old fight after.
My company is laying off a load of people next year, I’ll be first in line, pay me my redundancy money, and I’m off, quicker than you can say, ‘ F**k you Hemel!’, and I will!