Written by Anonymous. Posted in United Kingdom

If Maccy Ds are the chav’s staple diet, what does that tell you about a town that boasts not one, not two but THREE of these gourmet eateries (not to mention two KFCs and dozens of other even lower-grade greasy spoons)? When I first stumbled across Chavtowns, I was astounded to find that Scunthorpe had not already been nominated as the capital of the United States of Chav. Yes, Grimsby is bad, but Scunthorpe seems to have a higher population of chavs and pikeys crammed into an even smaller area. When I first moved here 15 years ago they were confined mainly to the Riddings and Westcliff ghetto estates – the Cheltenham and Gloucester of Scunny chavdom – but now they’ve seeped out into almost every part of town. Even the street I live in, which, although by no means “posh”, used to be at least relatively quiet and tidy, has become infested with dilapidated caravans and clapped-out Astras and Novas complete with photo-copied tax discs and populated with the standard issue loud-mouthed Burberry-clad, multiple-pierced, DIY-tattooed, sovereign-ring-wearing chavs and chavettes.

Other aspects of this p***y paradise: in addition to Aldi, Lidl and Netto we enjoy the facilities of two Home Bargains shops and two Poundstretchers, as well as numerous everything-for-a-pound one-stop crap-shops. Thursday is Ashby Market day when chavs from near and far come to browse among the stalls overflowing with mobile-phone accessories, dodgy DVDs and cheap Burberry and Von Dutch knock-offs. Scunthorpe is not well-known for its nightlife – most serious drinkers tend to head off for Cleethorpes or Doncaster – but the more home-loving chavs can still spend an enjoyable Saturday evening getting bladdered in Henry Afrikas or Der Schnapps Bar and then heading down to Club 2000 – Scunny’s premier Nite-Spot – for a bit of recreational drug-abuse, fighting and vomiting in Church Square.

They’re not the sharpest tools in the box, either – one was arrested here the other week for breaking and entering. Nothing unusual in that, you might think, except that this shining star had decided he’d have a go at burgling THE POLICE STATION!

I think we finally know the answer to that age-old question: Who put the “c**t” in “Scunthorpe”?



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