Whalley

Whalley is a small village located in the heart of the beautiful Ribble Valley in between Blackburn and Burnley.

For years this semi-rural idyll was a place of tranquility, perfect for the aging population who call the place home.

Then came the 1960s and the Labour government’s policy of building ‘social’ housing in small towns and villages across the country. As a result Whalley got its very own mini council estate.

How grim is your Postcode?

This didn’t appear to cause many problems until the late 1980s when the offspring of these working class trailblazers began to come of age. Clad in Rockports and other ‘casual’ labels these ‘lads’ and ‘ladettes’ gave Whalley its first taste of gang culture – the imaginatively titled ‘Whalley Bench Boys’.

Fighting, drinking, abusing old ladies and generally menacing the local community appeared to be the recipe for a good night out around the benches for these proto-*****.

15 years on and this small group has multiplyed into a fully fledged **** community. This in a place where the average price of a three bed terrace is well over £200,000!

We now have Darrens and Sharons a plenty.

Their favourite haunts are the local Spar and the pool room of The Dog (when its quiet, the only time the landlord lets them in – he really must be struggling to turn a profit!).

Their older brethren have made the Whalley Arms their own, complete with Kareoke nights.

One suggestion – don’t put your money on the pool table without keeping an eye on it. Its likely to end up either in someone’s pocket or in the table. If you enquire as to where your cash’s gone you’re likely to be met with a pool cue round your head or an unitelligible bark usually ending in something along the lines of ‘**** off you posh ****’. Nice.

A night out in Whalley wouldn’t be complete without a trip to Pizza King, after spending the night in our local ‘club’ – Rendezvous.

Rendezvous is superbly tacky, it’s that bad your feet stick to the carpet. Seriously. Music policy ranges from ‘Miss American Pie’ to happy hardcore, so they’ve pretty much covered every **** base there.

Violence at the end of the evening is compulsory as is abusing the poor coppers who have to try and keep a lid on the volatile mix of *****, ********* and cheap Barcardi Breezers.

After this they move on to Pizza King where they racially abuse the Asian blokes who stay open to cater for these in-bred, simian *******.

Phew, glad to get that off my chest.

Whalley’s not a no go area, yet and you can have a good night out. It’d just be better if we didn’t have any *****.

Saying that, at least our epidemic hasn’t reached Clitheroe levels yet.

But looking at the rest of the site it seems like nowhere’s safe any more. I fear for the future of this once great nation.

Yours,

Middle class and outraged!

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