Shipley, home of the criminally retarded ‘juvenile delinquent’ Chav.
Shipley is a small town just to the north of the utter s**t hole that is Bradford. It is almost entirely populated by Chavs. The town centre is a cultural black hole, filled with savage faced teen-chav mums pushing their semi-retarded inbred kids around in search of a Pound-Stretcher type bargain or Greggs pastie. A multitude of ‘hard’ teen chavs wander about in their now obligatory Adidas trackies, trainers and Burberry caps looking for something to nick, f**k or break.
The older generation of chav is also found in abundance, and can be seen shuffling their fat arses between Wetherspoon’s and the Job Centre. They are easily identifiable by their super-tight, fat enhancing leggings if female, and their sweat stained Leeds FC shirts only partially covering their beer bellys if male. Almost all of this older generation sport a wealth of shite jewellery, usually picked up from the local pawn shop.
It is the afore mentioned ‘hard’ teen chav that is becoming the biggest problem. They flock together like packs of Hyenas, sitting around in local parks and bus shelters trying to get pissed on the two cans of Skol they managed to nick after the guy f*****g their chav-mum passed out. The pack leader aka the ‘alpha male’, will usually bring along a tiny amount of cannabis for which he is hailed as some kind of demi-god, and twenty chav-scummers will then try to smoke a badly rolled joint, employing the most aggressive smoking styles they possibly can – usually the ultra-hard ‘overhand’ technique. Once the ale and dope have run dry (5 minutes), they proceed to cause as much trouble as is (in)humanly possible. Smashing headstones in the local cemetary seems to be a favoured pastime, only bettered in the eyes of the chav-scummers by a quick game of ‘exhumed skull footy’. This will probably be followed by a far more routine game of breaking and entering or TWOCing.
Shipley’s local college has also been attracting another type of chav. The Bradford area is an ethnically diverse place, and you can now see examples of the Asian chav wandering about. These guys (you only seem to get male Asian chavs!) sport tracksuits that are two sizes too small, and always have one leg tucked into one of their horrendously tasteless socks. Pristine, glow in the dark, white trainers are essential, as is a mobile phone that has flashing lights and an (un)impressive array of ringtones. The head Asian chav usually owns a Toyota Corolla (“twin cam 16 valve innit mate….”) with those tasteless neon lights underneath, and the most horrendous plastic bodykit (“bad, I’m telling you man…”).
Things are on a downward spiral too. You only have to see the local comp at kicking out time. A new generation of ‘uber-chavs’ awaits us.