New Addington

By all accounts Croydon is **** Central, having just moved here from Streatham (stupid I know, but blah blah blah), and I’ve got pretty used to the *****/********* lurking around the Whitgift etc, but via a tram catching error I ended up in New Addington, which takes Chavdom to a whole new level. The closer I got to the Belly of the Beast, the greater the density of shellsuits etc, and I got the idea that NA was going to be pretty grim, but nothing can prepare you for the sheer horror of hitting the motherlode – while Croydon ***** are orcs, New Addington ***** are the Uruk Hai (apologies to any Tolkein fans if I’ve got the terminology wrong) – ***** on crystal meth, so to speak. The ‘shopping’ parade is a selection of ‘Pahnd’ shops, crummy takeaways etc, with the main pastime being queuing while long suffering shop keepers try to deal with pond life incapable of managing the most basic transaction without having some kind of breakdown when faced with selecting the right money from their polyester pockets. All I wanted was a tin of cigars – available in every corner shop from one end of the country to the other – but wanting anything other than 10 Mayfair clearly made me some kind of freak – it took three retailers to find anything of the sort. As it was a Sunday trams were at a premium, meaning I was stuck in that chavhole for half an hour. I’ve drunk in some pretty rough boozers in my time, but the idea of killing time in the usual fashion was out of the question, as there’s only so many times you can put up with being eyeballed (if you are lucky) or being called a ‘cahnt’.

Anyway, a tram back to the Cotswold village that is Croydon eventually turned up, and making sure I didn’t turn round for fear of being turned into a pillar of salt made my escape. However, the returning tram was full of them, scoffing takeaways, bellowing into their ‘mobys’ and making an ear splitting collective rustle of cheap sportswear. Whoever it was who suggested that the team line should be cut to keep them out should have his suggestion followed up and get a knighthood.

How grim is your Postcode?

New Addington

Should you ever find yourself staring at houses made out of corrugated steel and wondering how the quaint countryside suddenly turned into the shitest ******* housing estate in the world – you are in New Addington – **** knows what happened to Old Addington but its a safe bet that someone nicked it!

Having visited New Addington – henceforth called Addo – in line with local dialect – you cannot help but be amazed by the gatherings of little ***** on everycorner usally seen smoking Lambert and Butler and drinking piss weak lager or just plain piss whichever is available.

The little ******* will surely remind you of meercats when they rise up to look at the top deck of a bus (obviously checking for family members) – I was unfortunate enough to have to stay at the ‘house’ – i use this term lightly – on arrival the front door had been forced and a colleague and I entered the property with a view to kicking the **** out of the ‘Burglar’ should he still be in the house.

How grim is your Postcode?

He WAS and it was just as we were about to lay into him that the owner of the property informed me that he was the next door neighbour who sometimes slept there when his **** kicked him out!!

Sometime later the owners mother popped round – all too frequent with the level of incest in Addo, and casually informed her daughter in front of people that she had not met before that her friend – it still maintain that it was actually the mother and not some ‘Friend’ – had just been sacked from her stablehand job for engaging in ORAL *** WITH A ******* HORSE!! – these people are without doubt the ******* lowest form of **** ever and further evidence can be obtained by visiting the local Club – ie just a short tram – **** me they are **** – ride away or a even shorter cab ride – the cab drivers are large ***** mostly called Lee with enough gold on each hand to ensure payment of the fare by the ***** they call passengers – of course female ***** are allowed to pay in kind.

Once at CINATRAS – you will of course required to wear shoes and gentlemen must wear smart shirts – red is advisable to ensure low visibility of the blood that will surely end up on your shirt should you step out of line – by this i mean – look at anyone – talk to anyone – basically just for going in you are getting a ******* good beating.

The best part is that it is only 17 pounds for entry then you may drink as much as you like – for the fat ***** – and there are many – there is a buffet with a large queue of female ***** with fat ******* veiny legs and fake burberry – they will normally be accompanied by their mothers – of course they are still under 21 and so are allowed entry to CINATRAS – the violence these women inflict upon each other is amazing – glassing and stabbings are frequently witnessed and of course these are preceded by shrieks of ‘Oi you facking Caant – you ****** Lee/My mother/sister or sometimes – you ****** me and you says you wud call –

***** the lot of them – the area is so ******* bad that the refugees have preferred to get back onto the boat/lorry etc and leave rather than have to live in Addo.

I will update again soon – ps – i ventured to Whitechapel last week and was lucky enough to spot a muslim women with a burberry headscarf and another one with a belly top – tight dirty jeans and a haircut like a ******* roosters **** – she was of course heavily pregnant and smoking – great