Living or moving to Lincoln, Lincolnshire
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Lincoln… capital of the fabled geographical county of Lincolnshire, jewel of the East midlands and official retirement home of the area for almost two thousand years.

Lincoln is a city of 80,000 that is divided into two parts. On top of the hill and underneath the hill. The top part will be of no interest to readers of this site, as it contains only the ‘posh’ (ie those with vocabularies containing trisyllabic words by the terms of the area), the lower part contains only nutters, petty criminals and students.

Until recently, the ‘city’ of Lincoln had no universities, and had an economy of two industries. Nursing homes, and charity shops. The night-life of Lincoln is rife with chavs and their female counterparts, (known as ‘townies’ by the locals) who go to the popular local meat market, Ritzy. Full of the standard fare of overweight women crammed into boob tubes and microskirts, many a customer can be seen late into the night shouting abuse at passers-by or throwing up their recent kebab into the lap of their long-suffering boyfriend. With cheap booze a go-go and a wallet-busting 2 pound entry fee on a saturday night, this club rarely goes short of business. If the chavs can’t be found hanging out in this club with their favourite Lincoln City footballers (who occasionally shore up their coke habits by robbing frightened students – allegedly), then they will surely be seen at Pulse or Mustang Sally’s, one the up-and-coming dance club, playing all of the nineties favourites again and again. And again. And again and again and again, the other catering to the more ‘rodeo’ spirit of the local barn-dancing aficionados. Expect Chav gear to be un-complemented by cowboy boots and hats, nor large golden belts when seeing this particular club… they just don’t have the imagination.

More recently though, the town has undergone a drastic change as the University of Lincolnshire and Huberside (charitable rated 249/250… topped from its lofty pinnacle of shame by the great Luton University). Now two of the charity shops have been replaced with trendy coffee shops and one former anti-chav pub has been replaced with a trendy cocktail bar. Now the town once littered with Ford Escorts and Vauxhaul Novas has had those cars shipped out and replaced by… more and flashier Ford Escorts and Vauxhaul Novas, as well, of course, as more and better stocked dealers to deal with the influx of students to a previously student-free environment.

The wonderful St Giles, Ermine and Birchwood estates are fertile breeding grounds for the new generations of Kappa slappas and illiterates that already have blessed the local area, including such great names as ‘Gay Graham’, ‘Black Jim’ and ‘Tall Steve’. These estates are home to the rampaging crowds of Townies that frequent the local wineries and nightclubs, funding their hobbies with their valuable work for the national chicken packing and distribution industries (incidentally, I have it on good authority that any chickens labelled ‘produce of Lincolnshire’ are to be avoided at all costs), or more commonly by the local DSS and home-based chemical distribution industries.

On a happier note, Lincoln has also reached nationwide fame as containing one of the Ten Most Likely Places to Meet a Nutter, as voted for by readers of an FHM poll. This is uncannily true, as the local YMCA is used as an after-care center for the recently released from Her Majesty’s Prison of Lincoln (recently home to Thatcherite scum – and so to my mind at least honorary chav – Lord Geoffrey Archer). There is a self-appointed lollipop man, who wears bright red trousers and a bright blue top EVERY DAY whilst calling out to the local female population with anything from complements on their footwear to ofers of acomodation, a complete set of drunks and of course the homeles guy who makes more from begging than the managers of the local McDonald’s so chavs, there is yet hope… play your cards right and you could be included in the top ten nutter hangouts or the new years honours list…

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