Telfords fungus like infection of Shropshire

Telford is by far one of the worst towns in England for *****, scallies or as the people of Shropshire call them, Telfs. I myself live in the ‘picturesque’ village of Albrighton placed firmly between the newly made city of Wolverhampton and the HOLE that is Telford. I have noted the messages left on this site about Wolverhampton and Lancaster (where i am currently at university) but these cities combined cannot come anywhere near the scale of filth that this one town has produced. I’m not sure if it is anymore but at one point a couple of years ago it had the highest teenage pregnancy rate in Europe. The only way I can put it is if you got Salford (the only city I have visited which rivals Telford) and scaled it down, or mearly removed any traces of anything remotely non-telflike and you end up with Telford.
The worst thing by far about Telford though is its insistence on spreading like a cancer through the loverly land of Shropshire. It has already engulfed Shifnal where now on most nights a group of chequered/burberry shirted male Telfs are seen fighting outside the delightful place that is Naughty Nells club/Mongolian restaurant (a wonderful mix I know). They are usually accompanied by some screaming 30 year-old female telf, shouting “Ee’s not wurfit Darren!” or some other screechy indecipherable ***** that they speak in. I myself unfortunately visited this club in my youth (or yoof as it is known) due to a mate being a chef there and oh dear god. The horrificness of it. I wont go into it but lads are only let in in the smartest (ha!) prementioned shirts and anything which doesn’t resemble the latest in Telf footwear (Rockport, Catterpillar, Kickers, etc.) is immediately shunned by the bouncers. Girls on the other hand are let in if they are within good breeding age (13-49) and if they are wearing the short skirts (known as ‘belts’ to non-Telfs) or uber-tight trouser which reveal the ever appealing camel toe.
I have, due to university expenses, had to get a job on the wonderful Stafford park in Telford, trying to avoid the scallies encountered last year in my job in the village of Albrighton (I could go into this more but I feel that I get carried away when talking of Cunty McCuntlips and his little band of ********. So I wont). Anyhoo much to my amazement there are actually some people, from Telford, who fit the **** profile perfectly (clothing, car, jewellery, music, etc) who are actually alright people. These however are in the vast minority as there are still ***** who ride around on little mini-fork-lifts called LoLuPs thinking they’re bloody Michael Schumacker in a nova.
So anyway Telford is the hole of Shropshire, the Midlands, England, the UK etc. I feel that in this short rant I have only scratched the surface of its sordid Scallyness. I could mention the town centre, breeding zone for the younger telfs, or the Ice-Rink where (I don’t know if they do it anymore but when I was younger) those wonderful under-16 disco things they had there where all the ‘yoof’ could gather in what could only be described as a peadofiles dream of pre-pubescent fondlings. I could go on for years about the only club in the town, Athena, but I won’t.
All I can say is that, please, only visit this town if you have a perverse fascination with Telfs, or a big gun with which you plan to take them all out with. If you fall into neither of these categories then please just stay the **** away.

How grim is your Postcode?