South Normanton!! What a nice place to escape from!
The standard Chav & Chavette can be found hanging around the “chippie” or outside the local public house (because the land lord thinks they are under 12 and he may get into trouble) using the best gutter language the likes of which you and I have not heard before and producing some of the biggest phlegm balls you could imagine whilst smacking their kids, who you thought were their brothers or sister, around the “fuckin ed” and sticking their tongues down the first un-suspecting spotty youth’s throat to get a cheap thrill.
Walk past the local Indian, open 24 hours a day corner shop, although it’s not on a corner because they would not dare build more than one road out of the dump, and you will see the council house tenants sitting on the grass cramming food down their necks and chatting about the great things my tax money has bought them via the good old DSS and how they managed to get a living allowance and still sell the goods from their “job” the night before.
The influx of Londoners has taken it’s toll. Go to any shop in the town, if you are brave enough, and listen to the imported Chavs “givin’ it sum” Sum? the bastards can’t even add up let alone talk properly.
If Hitler had won the war he would have wiped the place out and built a sewerage farm there.
You will notice that everyone over 30 walk with their hands in their pockets. This is not to keep them warm but to ensure the Chavs don’t rifle you as you walk by them and also ensure they don’t place the contents of the little chavs nappies in your pocket.
Please beware if, god forbid, you enter South Normanton as the Chavs will have the shirt off of your back and then tell the social its too big for them and get them to buy a new one.
If the world had piles that’s where they would be.