Leeds, Leeds, Leeds. Where does one start? Having been brought up in the sorry council infested rat hole that is Bramley, I should really leave the best till last.
So then, Leeds City Centre, not only has some dickhead decided to close down the one decent post office in the town, they have decided to turn it into “posh” shops such as Gucci, Thomas Pink and Vuitton!! What the f**k? As if a whole month of Giros could possible buy the card board taffita encrusted jeweled box the said Gucci’s come in. So these leaves you 2 options, the Post Office at St Johns and the one near the dreaded Market…. St Johns Centre should really be re-named the smack-head centre due to the large amount of heroin addicts dwellling in its shady corners. Just awating to twoc your handbag and tap you for fags. The PO near the market is even worse… smelling of piss and shite and stale beer, and thats just the customers… the scuffers fall out off the number 16 bus (armley to seacroft), fall into the post office to collect their dss benifits, then fall in one of the many delightful public houses nearby (tip – for those of you who live outside Leeds, avoid the Duncan, Regent, Royal Oak, and ESPECIALLY the General Elliott).
Unless of course you are a chav.
If you walk round the area of the market, beware of low flying pigeons, gypsies, tramps and theives.
Not to mention the chavs. Straight from their beds at 2 in the afternoon, they meet up near t’market, sharing the benches with the pissheads outside, spend their child benefit on shoes from “prague” and faux burberry from the outdoor market at £2 a go. they then proceed up t’ st johns to meet other chavs from other council estates or maybe to peruse the shoplifting worthy goods in woolworths. if the pickings are slim the “hard” ones might wander on down to HMV or if they are feeling extra hard, one of the big “fashionable” stores like JJB. this entertainment being had they then tottle back on the bus (10 of themsharing a £1.80 day rider that the driver is too scared to argue with) and head off back to the suburbs… one of them being bramley… you can never get more than one pushchair on the bus though and that really f***s them off.
so bramley, its like a flower without petals.. rodley, farsley, kirkstall being the petals, the bit in the middle being the stuff the birds peck at. how is it that rodley, farsley and to some extent kirkstall are untouched by the hand of the council god, and bramley is over-ridden with every chavscumscuffer that ever lived? not to mention the old biddies home that now houses a thousand kosovans, the bosnian filled broad lea estate, and the hell-hole that is “bramley shopping centre”… the centre of the shops looks like it has been designed by stevie wonder, 15 charity shops and 2 arcades, and a sorry looking morrisons that has seen better days. chavs and chavettes hang around of an evening with the usual bulldog in one hand and baby/fag in the other. drinking cider and yelling abuse at any unfortunate bastard that forgot to take the blockbuster dvd back earlier that evening and is trying to avoid a fine…..
and dont forget t’mow… the eptome of chav… they sell more alcopops than WKD and they are more underage pregnant dont no oo der favver is girls in there than you can imagine.
Its a bit like Royston Vasey (for those of you that have seen League of Gentlemen), “Once You Go There, You Can Never Go Back”
Its bloody marvellous!!!!