Shepherds Bush – London Suburb

The first thing you notice about Shepherds Bush is it has that je ne sais naff quality, which is ideal to foster the world-wide **** culture which inhabits the area.
The local shopping precinct is like the Hamlin to the local chavlets. The place has more ***** than your average Shoe City. The ***** are drawn to corporate ghettos such as JJBs sports, Argos and Peacocks (a downmarket Matalan, if thats possible?) and the ubiquitous McDonalds. Furthermore, for the older-**** there is even a JD wetherspoons pub upstairs where you can get fish n chips and a pint for £4.50, along with lung cancer due to the fact that there is a constant fog of smoke where older ***** “spark up” all day.
The girl scummettes have hair that is gelled to their faces, and of course de facto accessories such as a Lonsdale Handbag, and a Nokia 3210 phone in blue/pink fascia. In fact, the sky blue and pink is a real theme that runs through the chavers as the towel-based trackkie is commonplace. In fact, I haven’t seen that much pink and blue since watching the dancers on Emu’s World in the 1980’s!
Its a nightmare if you happen to get caught in the upstairs cinema complex while the local bruthaz and sistaz are on school holidays or are “bunking off”. Despite the overpowering nausea induced by the molotov combination of Popcorn, Juicy Fruit and Biactol, the conversations they have constantly through the film really pisses you off.
Conversations du jour include, if such n such “got a frenchy” off her **** partner, or if she would “go all the way soon”. Goddammit I’m trying to watch “Around the World in 80 days”.
In the centre of Shepherds Bush there is a park which plays host to late night teen **** gangs trying to get drunk on Turbo White, whilst trying to “finger” their girlfriends, whilst listening to the phattest feeds on the ghetto blaster attached to their BMX.
Lastly, a foreign peasant **** culture has arisen in SB. The place has a Walkabout and a Bellushi’s so even the most-discerning ozzie “sheep-shearer” can reminisce with his fellow countryman the fact that he misses his “Ute” whilst watching some Super 12 or AFL.
In Summation, a ghastly place, a veritable Panini sticker-album of all genuses of **** culture.

How grim is your Postcode?