Sutton Coldfield is an utterly horrible place to live. If you are thinking of buying a house here, I understand why. Birmingham doesn’t give you a wide choice of civilised and pretty alternatives. However, I would suggest you go into the centre, the area around Grace Church shpping centre night and day before commiting to buy a home in Sutton.
It’s Ugly. Sutton has never had any respect for history or architecture. The parade was developed in the early 1970s and many beautiful buildings destroyed in the process. In it’s place the hideous Gracechurch shopping centre was created. It was recently tarted up when bought by ‘The Mall Group’, perhaps in a sorry attempt to convince us that we were just as upmarket as the Touchwood centre in Solihull. You would have thought that planners would have learnt their lesson having lost the Victorian Parade in the 1970s, but sadly not. In the late 90s, the final few lovely Victorian and Edwardian shops, not to mention rows of little victorian houses were flattened to make way for a further t**d of a retail centre, which comprises of four ‘sheds’ and a giant carpark.
This view has been inflicted on the residents of the red brick terraced houses on Queen Street. But the loss of character has taught planners and developers nothing. Take a trip to the sorry, boarded up ghost town that is Mere Green. Am I the only one who would rather see the facading of the mock tudor Edwarian shops. Go on planners, developers, put in your brick tube (look at the plans) and attract yourself an anchor store, if you can. Frankly before any Suttonions nod their heads in agreement. Suttonions do a fabulous job of contributing to Suttons ugliness, UPVC-ing and rendering their Victorian villas. They rip up their front gardens to make way for their precious cars, pull down light stealing trees and build ill thought out and unsightly extensions. The Four Oaks and Roman Road estates are full of vulgarised houses, full of ripped out interiors, feature walls, modern glittery chandeliers and spot lights. The visually illiterate, show off, f**k wits that live there believe, that taste and style are just another thing to be bought.
There are a handful of interior design shops, good ones, but they are full of Sutton females spending all day choosing a cushion or the most bling wallpaper that they can find for their blessed feature walls. How the owners put up with those f*****g Stepford wives is beyond me.
Really, it is, I have friends that were mugged at knife point. My 70 year old uncle was attacked and mugged on the parade. Two young work colleagues have suffered unprovoked physical assalt on their way home after a night out. When I walk my dog, yobs constantly yell at me out of their car windows. I get stuff thrown at me regularly, cans of lager, half empty food containers, even eggs. If you ever find youself in the misfortunate situation of being in Sutton at night around closing time, you will see for yourself the staggering masses leaving the pubs and night spots. We have witnessed frequent aggression and threatening behavior. Sutton Coldfield town centre is out of bounds to you. Us Suttonions people descrbe it as a doughnut. Nothing to see in the centre. There is plenty to see in the centre in fact. There is the tracksuit clad masses who haven’t done a days exercise in their lives. The leggin-jeggin clad fat bottom girls, multi-tasking between, push chair, mobile, chips and fags. There are plenty of betting shop, charity shops and mobile phone stores. But that probably beats the boarded up buildings in Mere Green.
If you are a lowlife c**v, there are plenty of pubs and fast food places for you, but highlife c***s are well catered for too. They have two honey pot drinking establishments in Mere Green. Those places are literally full of the most crass human beings you’ll ever come across. Bottle blond, tanning salon housewives that term themselves ‘yummy mummies’. Yes, they really do call themselves that. They are way to impatient to wait for others to compliment them. The chaps, well you may not understand their language when you first meet them but I can help with that. No matter the parlance it all means ‘I’m f*****g loaded me’ or ‘I’m f*****g great me’. Oh, or ‘look at my car’. Don’t expect a conversation in theIr bars about anything but that, it all comes down to that. You will know which pubs, I won’t name them but you will be able to tell from the car parks stuffed full of ‘c***s’ cars and the bar stuffed full of ‘c***s’. Excuse all the swearing, by the way, I am only trying to aclimatise you. I can’t push in at the bar or bellow or screech with hilarity at nothing funny at all because I won’t be there, but a few Fs and Cs will help prepare you.
There is nothing for you. Sutton is full of pubs but very few that you will go into. It’s full of restaurants but I hope you like indian restaurants and takeaways? You do? Yes me too occassionaly, the problem is I don’t need 30 upwards empty, struggling for business Indian restaurants to meet my needs. How the proprietors and staff put up with their after pub clientele is a mystery. Sutton is full of shops, but a trip to such a depressing c**v hole full of betting shops will most likely depress the life out of you well before you part with any cash. Oh and there is the park, but that you will share with the spoiler tailed ‘mo-tuz’ of the boy racers and ‘this runs on fairy dust’ muffin tops. And of course the idolised and ‘seriously bright’ spawn that slid out of the c***s of those yummy mummies.
So, ugly, scummy, chavvy, violent, impolite, gloating. Welcome to Sutton. You can buy my house, I’ve had my fill.