Chav Scum and the Burbery Massive
Quick Links: Rant in Our Forums - Judgemental talks Chav As a man of wealth and taste, Chavs represent everything about this country that periodically has me looking to become a tax exile somewhere sensible, like Monaco or Geneva where badly dressed persons are banned by law and thrown in the cells. The poor, as someone once observed will always be with us, and I have no problem with this notion. The poor provide me with many of life’s pleasures. They may be relied upon to turn up for work and are suitably grateful for the five weeks paid holiday a year I provide them. Unless they are on part time contracts of course, in which case I don’t. There are few things more gratifying than gliding through town in my leather and walnut lined cocoon of warmth, Wagner on the CD, The Blonde by my side, as we watch the poor huddled in their bus shelter in the rain, and muse upon the vagaries of life. Where some have so much and some so little. Contrast is indeed the spice of life and it would be a boring old planet if we could all afford two weeks in Sandy Bay over Christmas. So the worthy poor have their uses. Chavs on the other hand, do not. The sight of a day-glo bedecked 16 year old mother pushing two small children of differing hues down the street will have me scanning the gutters for a large puddle. To blast through at 50mph, soaking her scrunched back hair in the hopes of inducing viral pneumonia in her and her inevitably screaming bastard progeny. The tax and benefit savings thus generated could be spent on something useful. Like better road surfaces. Should her faux gold and track suited bedecked slouching boyfriend be foolish enough to stagger into the road, feeling the weight of cheap lager and wobbly eggs, I simply cut out the viral pneumonia middle man and aim the BMW badge squarely at his gonads. Death or crushed testicles – it matters not. I will have removed a potential burglar from the human gene pool. Because burglary is the main employment of Chavs. Lets face it, with more gold earrings than a barmaid in Corrie and some hand done tattoos, what your Chav brand is announcing is “I never intend to have a job in my life. Just like Dad and Grandad.” These people used to congregate in a hollow in my woods on Saturday afternoon. I would find empty lager cans, roaches and empty lemonade bottles used as Bongs. I was forced to creep up behind the hollow and unleash both barrels of my 12 bore into the branches 3 feet above their heads. “Sorry chaps. Shootin’ vermin.” The language from these slack jawed mouth breathing half men would have a docker blush. One was foolish enough to shout back “Remember to leave your door unlocked” as he made off up the bank, earning himself a cartridge of rock salt in his arse. They have not returned, but I regularly patrol the grounds at weekends and have been forced to add Chavs to foxes, rooks, corbies, weasels and stoats when keeping down the vermin. Dyed blonde Chav scrubbers with scraped back hair in a scrunch, hoop earrings and an awful Tommy Hilfiger anoraks are getting the worthy poor a bad name in England’s green and pleasant land. And since it was the idea of the worthy poor to let them get away with it, it is the worthy poor who must pay for the inevitable clean up. I fail to see why my taxes should go to support approved schools, borstals and prisons for a class of people who contribute naught to our wealth or culture. Chavs – Just Ram It. Bazman Talks Chav as a member of the 'Working Poor' I am forced to agree with Judge on all too many of his points so Julie Burchill and the faux-bleeding-heart-liberals over at SKY TV can fuck right off. I have washed dishes, scrubbed toilets, served drinks, wiped-up vomit, carried drunken piss stained old men out of bars and greasy spoons. I have carried bricks and mortar. I have lugged fridges and televisions to cars driven by the likes of Judge there while they stared at me panic stricken the dust would rub off their designer jeans and snakeskin boots. I’ve done it all. To get along. I have managed to get educated and find a semi-decent job for the moment which is facilitating the pursuit of greater goals and with ne’ery a hand out but many’s the hand up from them what loves me. CHAVS are not working poor people, put upon by the ruling classes, hard-done-by the moment they were born, guilty of being of the wrong class - they are scum. Lying, thieving, lazy, granny-bashing, vandalising, defacing scum - there is a difference, and as a member of the working poor, I resent with much vigour being lumped in with this, frankly, underclass of uneducated, inbred, tax-dodging, welfare bleeding, rutting neanderthals. an example: This morning, I had an encounter with one on the bus – now this was your particularly nasty type – not only a chav or a knacker but a single mother wielding a buggy and child like a battleaxe type chav or knacker. I’m sitting there, minding me own business like a responsible citizen, when this huge stinking heifer lands itself on top of me and proceeds to pummel me with its buggy until I give in and move seats. Now, in a civilized society this wouldn’t happen. This would: Baz would say, ‘Oi, you fat stinking hag, get your voluminous posterior either on the other side of my seat or another seat altogether and take your mewling spawn with you and quit hammering my leg which is as you can see on my side of the seat. Having found some gibbering, drug-crazed idiot to shoot his nicotine infested semen up your front bum does not entitle you to the whole of this seat, more space in the aisle, a straight path through oncoming traffic, right of way on the motorway, a brand new flat, unlimited spending money, a holiday on me the taxpayer or a life of no toil simply because you took a car jack, prized your flabby knees apart, set a wave a-rolling on your thighs and allowed some whippet-skinny, flat-topped, sovereign ring wearing, pringle-sweatered illiterate to ride the wave on through. The several hours of labour you CHOSE to go through does not automatically qualify you for a life of relative privilege – now fuck off!’ Naturally, this was not the case. We live in a sick, sad world CHAVS, SKY TV and Julie Burchill and her counter-counter revolutionary, faux bleeding heart media cocksucking liberals can RAM IT!
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