Winchester is a shitty little city located about 10 miles from Southampton in Hampshire.
If you visit don’t be deceived by it’s pretty city centre and cathedral, because nearly every area outside the centre is a council estate and there’s more c***s in Winchester than in Southampton. The favourite “hang-out” area in the centre is the bus station where about 10 c***s will rush up to you asking you for a cigarette! (“Alrite maaate, u ain’t got a spare fag by any chance ‘av ya?”) Say no and you’ll get all the abuse possible! Another “c**v-hideout” is the Brooks Shopping centre. You’ll get about 20 of them crowding around the 49p burger stand. Don’t you just want them to all get mad cow disease? hehe
Avoid these areas: Stanmore, Weeke, Winnall, Highcliffe (the 4 big council estates).
Don’t bother visiting Winchester, it’s not worth one second of your time.
Having recently been voted one of the worst places to live by a certain national tabloid, Winchester is keen to make sure it lives up to this (un)enviable reputation by getting as many of the C**v fraternity into it as possible.
The main place to hang out during the day is down by the Cathedral in the centre of Winchester. This is a place mostly favoured by alcoholics, crackheads and tramps who love to shout abuse at passing tourists and locals – but the faint whiff of Timmy Hallfager fake aftershave and rise in Burberry caps & TK Maxx trackies have highlighted that even a town with a modicum of culture is not safe from the p***y grasp.
The best place to watch the lowest rung of the social ladder is down at the local “Scumerfield” store on the high street. Here you can enjoy the hideously obese employees take extended cigarette breaks outside whilst talking at length about their own personal lives. Even when they are on the checkout, the customer is always invisible as they chat about pregnancies at fourteen, and how “Cristal got drunk on Friday night, and went home with Tyrone – the bastard” etc etc ad nauseum.
For the C**v who fancies a pint, there are plenty of pubs to choose from.
From the faux-Irish O’Neills (we serve Guiness and have the toilet signs in Gaelic – we must be Irish, begorrah bejesus!), to the downright s**t of 16 yo’s off their heads on tart fuel getting lairy in Bar Iguana.
As with any other chavtown, Winchester also boasts a JD Wetherspoons pub. The only good thing is cheap beer during the day – the bad thing is cheap drinks at night too which means all the neds descend on the place and you can’t get any peace and quiet from the jangle of fake bling and Lizzie Duke hoops – if you close your eyes you could almost be at a Jimmy Saville convention!
The Guildhall down the bottom end of town is one of the many of the “trying desperately to be trendy” drinking establishments along with Moloko’s (it really is as s**t as the name suggests), which recently got into trouble over underage drinkers being allowed in – another sign of the C**v influence being exerted on Winchester. Apparently Judge Jules played down at the Guildhall a while ago – says it all to be honest!
Shopping wise, Winchester has The Brooks Centre which is the haunt of any self-respecting under 18 tyke, especially for the chance to nick stuff from MVC.
Pizza Hut and McDonalds are everpresent, and always full of Coke swilling layabouts – and that’s just the staff. At lunchtimes, it can be quite amusing to watch the people actually queue to get in to eat the filth that is offered.
Special mention must be made to Winchester’s most well known resident “Burping Ron”.
Ron is a tramp who has been in Winchester for years and years who likes nothing more than to burp at people as he wanders up the street and also being highly offensive to the masses of foreign students who descend on the place every summer. Although not a c**v, I did’nt feel it right to mention the town and not him. God bless you Ron!