I recently worked in a suburb of Newport. Newport itself is bad enough but this area is the height of pikeyness (sorry it’s still p***y in my neck of the woods).
Where to start…
Close to Newport is a sprawling estate with blocks of flats in faded salmon pink and faded powder blue. Many windows are boarded up. There is a constant thump of manufactured pop in the air and the streets are filled with all manner of the usual p***y transport, the metallic blue BMW, the battered metallic/vomit green Fiesta.
The bus service is actually very good, and the vehicles themselves are very clean. What is disturbing are the CCTV cameras attached to the interiors.
The Chav Hierachy
The people range from the living-off-benefits chav who has a medical problem (bad back/morbid obesity/chronic laziness) that prevents them from working in any capacity those the more easily recognizable as chav.
The first group can be identified by the fact that they rarely move except to clip their children or to go to the chippie. And even then they send the least obese/most mobile member of the family (usually a child). Their ‘illness’ prevents them cleaning themselves or their children. They usually sport more outdated p***y-wear: leggings, faded outsize t-shirts and hi-tech trainers that are more than 10 years old. The offspring are usually disturbed and troll-like.
The other class of p***y do manage to earn a few pennies via part-time jobs in Poundstretcher and the CSA. They spend their cash on god-awful highlights, polyester and laminate flooring (female) and weed, body-kits and trainers (male). These women involve themselves in voluntary organisations which ostensibly aim to improve the area but are really an opportunity to bitch about their exes and boss less fortunate p****s about.
The majority are incoherent, pronouning the ‘ow’ sound as ‘ew’ e.g. clown = clewn, down = dewn
Most of the spawn would attempt to gain my attention by calling ‘Oi woman’. All have ADHD uncontrolled by Ritalin, through the vast amount of E-numbers they consume.
While working here it was quite usual for a child to run into the room I was working in and proclaim:
“Shellmintaaaaaa! Your bruvver’s been arrested again!”
I have very many stories and could paint many a portrait of chavery here but the best chav I saw was a brittle-haired (bottle) blonde. She had a diamante eyebrow piercing, brown lip-liner under a thick coating of semen-like lipgloss, rings of black eyeliner and was dressed head-to-toe in white. White belly top, tight white trousers, white hat even. In fact the next time I saw her she was wearing a similar outfit while shovelling fish and chips into cones for the hungry chavs in the local chippie.
However the icing on the chavcake was the youth worker (he’d been promoted from the ranks of standard chav that attended the yoof club) who pursued me and left his number for me on a post-it note. A sexual health helpline post-it note.