Kettering, Northants AKA Kett’rin

Picture this a young lad about 12 years of age and 4 ½ feet high baseball cap at ninety degrees in a imitation addidas tracksuit, with trouser legs tucked into his socks (of course, is definitely the height of fashion). This lad is strutting around, *** in one hand jewellery al over the over, outside McDonalds acting as if he is 8 foot tall and built like a rugby player, when some poor unsuspecting adult (about 17/18) walks round the corner wanting to go to McDonalds for his dinner glances at the young lad, the young lad jumps up in complete disgust and says “Whats your problem? Wanna make sommin of it? Bling Bling” when the adult starts to walk towards the young lad, the young lad pisses himself and runs off to either his pregnant 14-year-old girlfriend or his brother in the army crying his eyes out.

That is a typical view if you visit Kettering town centre. Particularly McDonald’s with it’s gang of ****(ette)s ******* about outside it’s front doors. This has been made even worse by the council since removing the seating outside, so they now congregate on the walls directly outside the front door.

Also, if you care to visit the swimming pool/Focus car park near the other McDonald’s then you get the BOY RACER ***** showing off their pimped up Saxos/Puntos/Novas with multi-coloured strip lighting; speeding around and around in an empty car park because it’s “cool”.

the ******** surprises us with its cunning plan to avoid taking up a professional career and provide itself with free accommodation supplied by tax payers by spawning multi coloured mini ***** at a early stage in life, usually mid teens.
Clearly recognisable by their distinctive tribal Burberry they congregate in town centres and on street corners, ***** have a reputation of being creative with public property and motor vehicles, building themselves Chaviots out of mechcano sets and strip lighting, and providing us with humorous banta written on toilet walls like ‘****’ and ‘Tasha woz ere’ in an attempt to relieve our boredom while urinating.
Their language is a basic form of English thus avoiding any words they cannot spell or pronounce, even to the extent of creating new words only they know the meaning of.
Hunting in large groups ***** will single out the weakest, smallest prey and attack it without mercy avoiding any personal injury and insuring victory.
***** unfortunately don’t yet fall into the category of rodent and in effect cannot be bludgeoned to death under the guise of pest control. Darn!-
I think I speak for everyone when I say thank you ***** for the great contribution you’ve made to this country, you’ve made it what it what it is today – a **** hole.

How grim is your Postcode?