Welshpool

Welshpool is an up and coming Chavsville. Most of the local shops have buggered off now leaving only the charity shops to take full advantage of the fact they don’t pay rates. We have our fair share of pound shops too, thankfully providing the ***** with all the nasty clothing and jewellery they need. Nothing looks better than a second hand Burberry cap and some scabby old trainers.
If one delights in doing a spot of **** spotting you will not do better than an upstairs window in the ‘Pinewood Café’. From here you have the perfect view of Broad Street which allows you to sit and count the Chavved up Novas and Corsas. For a real treat get a window on Monday so you can see a special breed of ****, the Farmer ****. These **** kickers try with little success to **** up their land rovers. Big wheels and C.B aerials just don’t cut it with the townie *****. They have way too much experience and do us proud.
While sipping your milky coffee you will notice you are dining with the best single mothers the state can raise. Large gold hooped ear rings and nasty gold sovereign rings a plenty. As much bling as any city dwelling **** would be proud of. Another good chance for a bit of **** spotting is on a Tuesday when the court is in session. Many a fine specimen can be found skulking outside the magnificent town hall building, sucking on imported **** and eying up the next prospective single mother.
Housing for these ***** is supplied in the form of a delightful estate on the fringe of the town built close to the magnificent Powys Castle. Unfortunately the original prefab dwellings have been replaced with nice new buildings. However aerosol paint sticks just as well giving the ***** plenty of room to hone their literacy skills. E.g., wanka, tossa and Slaag.
A good meeting place for wanna be ***** is the fine nightclub once known as Images (Grimages to its friends). In a poor attempt to raise its profile the management have changed the name and pulled up all the sick saturated carpet. Unfortunately as for the aforementioned estate it’s a case of a new kennel for the same old dog. Lots of short skirts hooped ear rings and alcopops with the usual spotty ***** parked up in Somerfield car park waiting to spawn more brainless chavers.
To make the inhabitants of this fine town feel comfortable even the local Ambulance staff have been issued with peaked caps. This is so when ***** are being helped from the ground after a friendly kicking they feel like one of their own is helping them. The NHS is just trying to find a supplier who can do a ‘Whale tail’ spoiler that fits a Mercedes Sprinter van, or at least get some bandages in the Burberry colours.
We are still waiting for our Maccy D to turn up so are a long way away from being a true **** town. Reassuringly you only have to look outside the local club of a Friday night to see we have every chance of one day meeting the low standards required.

How grim is your Postcode?