What a complete and utter s*******e Stirling is. Awarded City status by the Queen in 2003, that doesn’t stop this from being a Chavtown, in fact, it rather makes it even more of an attraction for the scummy bastards.
First off , there’s the ubiquitous McDonald’s full of Neds – here you can quite commonly see whole families as they go from the Child Ned (lots of acne surrounded by the uniform trackie) then going through the different stages of Schemieness – early 20’s Ned (as before but with kids. possibly his/her grandchildren), then 30’s Ned (fat women who should realise that dressing like a f*****g tart is NOT attractive to men, unless they’re after more rejects from the gene pool to help bring more brats into the world).
Right next door to Macie D’s is Argos – how’s that for planning? The place is awash with Neds, usually being encouraged by their parents to beat up any lone Goth Kids outside.
That leads us onto the Thistle Centre, the local shopping mall. There is employment here for Neds who have court appearances due and have too many fines for their usual nocturnal visits to other people’s houses to pay for. A favourite is Boots, where the staff are all [allegedly] either Neds or related to Neds. A friend of mine was the security Guard here for a month, but because he likes his Metal, was made to move on by the Manager, a Born Ned if ever there was one. There’s also the usual other Ned hang-outs – Sports Direct and other shops that claim to be sports shops but are nothing of the kind – shouldn’t they even pretend to sell sports equipment?
Onto the new Annexe of the Thistle Centre, the Thistle Marches. For some reason best known to those who designed it this way, the Waterstones book shop (a haven for those escaping the Schemiescum) is bang next door to bloody Primark, where the Neds go to buy their cheap clothes.
Outside of the Thistle Centre is the usual sights and sounds as Britains’ Burgeoning Peasant Underclass do their damnedest to ruin what was quite a picturesque town – gobs of mucus abound, as do the families of Neds, all of whom use the word ‘F*ck’ as the rest of us use punctuation.
And that is Stirling. Not very pretty, is it? Nothing to recommend it, even the train station to help you get out is now plagued by drug-addled Neds begging for money, usually through intimidation.
Pity me, for I live here.