A reasonably nice place that I have lived in all my life, ruined by one thing; c***s, or as they’re known around the area, Kevs (Male) and Shazzes (Female, just about).
Kevs are bad enough, covered from head to toe in burbery or in bright white tracksuits; often found walking around in a fashion they think makes them look “hard”, when in actual fact, they look like a wounded ape with an itchy scrote. Wearing caps placed at rediculous angles, hurling insults at passers by and threatening to “Bost” the face of anyone smart enough to reply, as they do not have the mental capacity to think of a comeback and have to resort to violence. Or at least empty threats of it. Truth is, none of them could punch their way out of a paper bag, but strength is in numbers, and in groups of about 15 hanging round by “Maccy D’s” or in a park somewhere, they tend to think that they are “the s**t”.
Anyway, moving on from Kevs, Solihull Shazzes are the reason that Solihull is Chlamidia capital of the U.K. Simply, and in the nicest possible way, these sorry excuses for women are s**m. Scraped right off the bottom of the proverbial barrel, slapped into some tight jeans, wearing twatty fluffy boots that are unsuitable for any terrain, ever, and wearing coats that look like they’ve been made out of a sleeping bag and some kind of furry woodland animal slapped along the hood, they go around sleeping with anything that’s willing. And that’s just the 12 year olds…they get worse with age. Hair pulled back, and often held out on the side in a ponytail that just makes them look like they needed to see what they were doing in the mirror so they couldn’t put the ponytail at the back. Skin pulled so tight across the forehead, you can see the grease and blood oozing out and gathering along the hairline of the offender. One question I have to ask is: How the f**k do these slutty, overly made up bitches get laid? We know the motives: to get pregnant so they can get a council flat in “North Solihull”, formerly known as Chealmslea Wood; Also known as the s**t hole of the Midlands. From there it’s a downhill slope of cooking tinned food over burning tyres while waiting for the dad to send some child support and leeching off the council and raising the offspring to be more “bottom of the barrel” s**m.
The cycle never ends, more s**m are brought into the world to try to terrorise the formerly respectable area of Solihull at only 8 years of age.
Sometimes it really hurts to know murder’s a crime, a good old fashion bit of mob justice would make everyone’s life some much easier in Solihull.