Northwich nestles snugly in what is usually regarded as posh and leafy Cheshire. Unfortunately Northwich is a fetid wasteland where mid-Cheshire dumps all its dirty chavers and peasants. It’s a real relic of a bygone age when the locals used to mine salt – now they all just sniff Colombian salt and fight with each other.
A Northwich local can be identified by their walk. The lads all bounce around on spring heels like someone’s shoved a 6-foot stick up their **** and the local girls usually waddle due to either being heavily pregnant or really fat. Most Northwich ********* also have curvature of the spine from all the pram pushing they have to do and most prams are usually just as laden with goods that have been freshly nicked from Kwik Save as they are with kids.
Late at night the deserted car parks have proved a Mecca for all the local scallies to spin their souped-up Novas round in ever increasing circles, whilst the Burberry clad masses look on in ******** awe and bounce inanely to the latest album from “The Streets”.
As there is nothing else to do other than drink and procreate, most local youths pass their time dragging their knuckles up and down the hilly streets for hours at a time like a scene from “The Night of the Living Dead”. Of course, this is regularly interspersing with the classic ASBO traits of screaming abuse at passers by and lobbing bricks at shop windows.
Northwich is also one of the few towns in Britain where the police actually encourage speeding drivers to knock down the **** kids, as this usually has the effect of preventing 5 kilos of uncut cocaine finding it’s way onto the streets.
They’ve not been able to build any new houses around the centre of Northwich for 50 years because the entire town centre is built on hollowed out salt mines that could collapse at anytime. Unfortunately this has not yet happened which is amazing when you consider all the extra weight exerted upon the creaking pavements by the hundred-strong gangs of Elizabeth Duke jewellery wearing scummers that festoon every corner. However, I still pray for the day when it happens and takes the entire chaver population to the bowels of **** hell with it.
Kazakhstan to Crewe – no thank you!
Winsford, once a nice, peaceful and prosperous town
Nantwich: home of the yummy mummy & a sea of middle class insolence
Smacklesfield… I mean Macclesfield
Sale, Cheshire, a black hole of misery and despair
Nantwich: the place that time forgot
Culcheth is a hole roughly equidistant between Liverpool and Manchester
Wilmslow – Hollywood of the North
Widnes, an unflushed toilet of a place between Warrington & Liverpool