Ah, Rosehill. Lovely place.
I moved here a few years ago because we could get a bigger house for the money here. I knew there were some council estates nearby, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it?
Yes. It could.
Where to start? Rosehill is situated between Sutton and Morden is sawf eest larndon. It’s actually very convenient for buses (i.e. **** transport), which should have been a first clue. Recently they’ve tried to better the area by building an enormous block of flats. Admittedly they are better than the wasteland that was there before (presumably as a home for copulating ***** and *********). They’ve just opened a Carphone Warehouse underneath them in a small row of shops. I imagine this so they can all go in there and buy new phones to play the Crazy Frog ringtone on. None of the other shops are occupied yet (can’t imagine why!), but I’m expecting a Game and a JJB Sports to appear shortly.
Rosehill has a wide range of shops (some of which are actually useful, like the excellent DIY store). Unfortunately there are also 450 charity shops, most of which have actually closed now. I suppose they were too expensive for the locals to shop at. There is a Co-Op there, which is the ultimate **** supermarket, and then there’s the KFC. You have never seen a busier KFC. At all times of day and night there is a queue of **** blokes who have parked their A-Registration BMW 3-series (with 300,000 miles on the clock) badly on the kerb outside, leaving it full of kids and the missus, who is invariably on the large side and wearing a white, stretch top. The bloke will have a skinhead and will be wearing some form of England football shirt. All the while **** teenagers hang around outside spitting and dropping litter on the floor. There is litter everywhere, it is ridiculous. I frequently walk by the KFC to goto the kebab shop, which is run by a few nice foreign blokes. Strangely, there is not often many ***** in here. I suspect that the menu is a bit daunting (don’t like all dat forin ****. Gimme kfc innit). I once had a nice conversation with a lovely young girl of about thirteen as I was walking there:
“ave you got a ***?”
“sorry I don’t smoke”
“**** off then.”
Charming. I would sarcastically say that their mothers would be proud, but they probably actually are.
There are the usual armies of pram-wielding, benefit-claiming 14 year old mothers screaming at their kids to “shut up for one minute or I’ll smack you in der ******* maarf”, “I’ve told you free times Britney, you cant ave any ******* ice cream. Now shut up or I’ll smack you in der ******* maarf”. Actually, I’m lying. The child is probably called Courtney-Angel.
There is a really nice park behind my house, which I overlook. And I mean a really, really nice park. There is a wooded area, some nice long grass that the council keep long in the summer and some large fields. There’s also a cycle path that the ***** have written their graffiti all over, and they ride up and down on those stupid bloody mopeds that sound like a large angry wasp at 200 decibels. In the wooded area, I have personally extinguished two attempts at starting a fire, seen the fire brigaid twice and directed them to where the flames were coming from, been asked by the fire brigaid three times if I’d seen a fire, and called them twice myself. On one occasion it was a moped that had been set alight in the woods. The trees are especially combustible because of all the graffiti on them.
My sister used to go out with a **** loser who lived on the council estate part and my (at the time 5-yr old) daughter once got invited to a party at his sisters house. My god! I parked my car outside the house, amongst a bunch of Nova’s, old Mercs with huge alloy wheels on them and a bunch of indescribable Fords. I was seriously worried that it would be either gone, wheel-less, or damaged in some way before I came back out. Inside the house, there was a tiny sitting-room with an immense TV that probably cost them two months benefits. Sorry, cost ME two months benefits as I’m sure they don’t pay any bloody tax. The place was full of skin-head blokes drinking cans of lager and women who were screeching away in what I’m told was English, but I still don’t believe that it was. I understood about 1 word in ten. Needless to say, we didn’t stay very long.
There’s no reason to visit the place. Avoid it.