Soldato
- Joined
- 1 Mar 2010
- Posts
- 6,316
Shame, the city has interesting history. I haven't had much excuse to visit though.
Post your past or recent Chav Stories...
- Thread starter Richdog
- Start date
I don't understand all the hate for chavs really.
I deliver food for a living, and chavs are by far the biggest tippers.
They actually go out their way to hand over £2 or more, unlike all the tight arse uni students who hold their hands out for their 1p change.
I deliver food for a living, and chavs are by far the biggest tippers.
They actually go out their way to hand over £2 or more, unlike all the tight arse uni students who hold their hands out for their 1p change.
You actually wasted fuel doing that? I would not have even entertained the idea.
I don't tip delivery guys either? You're being paid to do it, what next, tipping couriers and the postman?
Man of Honour
- Joined
- 29 Mar 2003
- Posts
- 57,370
- Location
- Stoke on Trent
Most people don't know what Chavs are and think they are other people that don't fit in with their lifestyle.
In my world Chavs are people who type:
would have
could have
should have
Id of
ect
etc ..........
Which makes Kindai a Chav
Soldato
- Joined
- 14 Nov 2002
- Posts
- 7,718
- Location
- Under the Hill
I do have one story. I was on a night out in Slough (yes really). All things considered we had a good eveningout and on the way to find a cab my friends wanted a kebab. We stopped at a van in the town centre and I stood to one side while my friends ordered. Beside me was a 20ish year old lad with what seemed to be a learning difficulty of some kind. A lovely local lady was screaming and shouting at the guy, essentially for having a disability. The lad was pretty upset so I stepped between them and told her to leave him be. What happened next was painful and confusing.
I felt a thump to my face, burning pain in my left eye and when I grabbed my face a mass of blood covered my hands. The women ran off while I was left screaming in pain and my friends rushed over to see what had happened. They doused my eye with water and looked for the cut which was not there. Gradually my vision returned and we worked out what had happened. She had punched me while holding a hotdog lathered in mustard and ketchup and the sauce was over my face and in my eye. The remains were on the ground by my feet. It took a while to live that one down and my friends still joke about it.
In short, avoid Slough.
I felt a thump to my face, burning pain in my left eye and when I grabbed my face a mass of blood covered my hands. The women ran off while I was left screaming in pain and my friends rushed over to see what had happened. They doused my eye with water and looked for the cut which was not there. Gradually my vision returned and we worked out what had happened. She had punched me while holding a hotdog lathered in mustard and ketchup and the sauce was over my face and in my eye. The remains were on the ground by my feet. It took a while to live that one down and my friends still joke about it.
In short, avoid Slough.
Soldato
- Joined
- 22 Feb 2008
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- 11,108
LOL.
I can imagine you screaming in terror at the sight of all the "blood". Comedy gold.
Soldato
- Joined
- 1 Mar 2010
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- 6,316
I'd limit it to predominantly young delinquents with few qualms re anti-social behaviour and a fairly haphazard fashion sense; who either don't know, or don't care to know, any better. Depressingly, a number of people end up trapped in this sort of lifestyle for life. 
Soldato
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- 1 Mar 2010
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'Doesn't taste or smell like iron -- not blood!' Pro tip passed down by generations of survivors.
Whenever that happens I have to have a mental argument with myself... Would it be more amusing if I let them think I was going to race them, and then drove off normally while they rag their little ****wagon off of the line? Or would it be more amusing to make them eat dust?
Mate, anything that can be construed as 'deviant' sexual orientation is like catnip to them. Themed parties are particularly confusing to their minds.
Be careful what you wish for... That's basically the town's motto! If you haven't been, here's a video game metaphor for it:
Even indigenous wildlife has evolved defensive mechanisms:
***WARNING: A BIT OF RANT IN THE SPOILER***
Perhaps it's best to start with something light-hearted. There used to be a local urban legend in Rochdale -- Lydia the Ever Pregnant. She was young, not classically beautiful, perpetually horny, weird and always short on cash. She tagged her handle on various surfaces as 'Lydz', apparently. I thought people were pulling my leg... That's until I met her.
Picture the following in tights and three layers of assorted sports attire:
Her racket was the standard bus fare trick. I made the error of waiting for a lift near a request stop. In abridgement:
'Omg, my babs' cumin', got [any] cash?'
'Erm... come again?'
'Oh, you're pregnant and need to get to the hospital?'
'Let me see...'
Ever the helpful soul, I checked my wallet for change (hardly ever carry any) but I did have a note tucked in.
'Sorry, I don't have any change.'
'You cheeky *bleep* *bleep* *BLEEEP*... liar... *BLEEP* *BLEEP* your face *BLEEEEEEEEEEP*!!!'
'I saw a note! Give it me, or you'll end my baby!'
As I was trying to parse her grammar, she was getting uncomfortably close. Then, pangs of oncoming labour seemingly forgotten, she sprung a Hobson's choice on me: furious oral or shanking. I didn't want to find out what she had in her pocket, so I turned around and sprinted at a casual pace to my mate's house. The woman gave up after a few yards, throwing more abuse to speed me on my way, and flipped the bird in my general direction for good measure, huffing and puffing as she went down on the pavement. What a lady! Bags of class!
Typical student, my friend was still in bed. So much for that promised early lift. But on the way back to Manchester I described the woman to him, and he said that indeed I've met the legend. Forthwith, I was promoted to honorary Rochdale citizenship for surviving a 'Lydz-ing'.
Only if my adventures had ended there...
Now, as you may know, in small, deprived market towns up North, the lowest rung of Hell is reserved for child abusers. Of course to qualify as one you just have to look funny to the resident underclass, walk strangely or cross them at the wrong time of day. Elderly can get the worst of it. Law of the land be damned! They go for a classic witch hunt up in Rochdale. Like this:
Only with a supped up, barely-MOT-worthy hatchback and a flock of mopeds following in its slipstream.
One sunny morn in Rochdale [a rare event in itself], I witnessed this form of hunting first hand. An ancient VW Golf was zipping up and down a road leading into town proper. Packed full of tragic clowns it was. A few lads were dangerously hanging out of the car and shouting 'paedo' at every passer by. Any back chat, and they would stop to have words. Proper hard lads: big gestures and even bigger egos.I just wanted to get to town, and to vanish from that particular street asap.
Eventually an Asian gent in his 50s said something to the tune of:
'And a good day to you, *******!'
I thought oh dear, here we go! But the Golf's driver misjudged his swerve, and drove straight over the curb and into someone's front garden! Shortly, four lads and a girl piled out of the car and instead of checking if everyone was alright, started fighting amongst themselves. I just face-palmed. Lovely town. Wonderful people.
Disabused of any notion of Rochdale as a sleepy market town, I thought that maybe walking by the canal in future would be less eventful. Ha!
I remember seeing some bright spark chucking cola/mentos bombs on people's boats. His shoddy aim caused more laughs than damage, but the joke quickly wore thin. He was told to stop and scram. Feeling insulted he rushed to the water to start a fight... or at least he tried to. You see, leaping on to a boat at full gallop is a bad, bad idea! Omni-shambles ensued.
Our antagonist went in the water. Terrified, he couldn't decide between cursing at the boatman, screaming for help or paddling to the embankment. PMSL! A zesty lady on the other side wished the swimmer 'bon voyage' He wailed, promising many copulations and beatings upon her should he ever make it to shore. I regret not having a smartphone back then.
Sadly he did live, as no drownings were reported in the vicinity the day after. Oh well, I'm sure he is a fine and responsible adult these days.
Completing my top of Rochdale round-up, are my documentary-making days. Well, a friend was doing a masters in Film, and I tagged along to help. Free running/parkour was just coming into vogue. And before the CrossFit craze, the world had the 'street gym' movement. We decided, for whatever excellent reason, to follow a group in Rochdale for some 'edge'.
Anyhow, got to a row of garages at the back of some council flats, it was dark. Fortunately for us, the guys we were meeting were genuine enthusiasts, and not a front for gang activities.
Set up. Started filming. Everything's going great. Some individuals were quite good. Scaling garages, a few tumbles, etc, etc. Then another group of denizens from the estate emerged from the shadows. Promptly accused us all of homosexual tendencies, and declared parkour was child's play! Charming!
I wanted to avoid a fight between our group and theirs, so I asked the ring leader to try parkour for himself. There's a tenner in it for him, and we would capture it all on camera for posterity. He took a big swig of Relentless (I kid you not) put out his cig and went for it. We tried to give him advice about technique... BUT HARD MEN DON'T NEED ANY! He charged at the garage wall...
Boom. Bricks. Kisser. One knocked out hero! Diffused the situation right away. Who said brave idiots ascend to Valhalla?
Runners-up:
- Rochdalian wonders hate bus stops. Kid tries to break the glass stand, the glass breaks him!
- A Geordie is sitting outside a pub, feeling particularly mortal. He's quietly trying to banish his hangover with a takeaway. A local demands a chip out of the blue. The other guy says no. The local slaps him. Geordie thumps him one, doesn't feel great afterwards, and proceeds to be profusely sick all over his attacker. The chav just screamed and screamed and screamed. Comedy!
- An idiot attempts to abuse a dog tied outside some shops. He unties the lead and starts reeling it in to glue a firecracker to the pooch (don't ask). A bigger dog comes charging from an alley across the street. Animal Kingdom: 1; Idiot: 0.
- A family is moving in. A crafty thief sneaks into the lorry and lifts a PS2. Runs away. Gets twonked over the head by a bigger fish up the road. The bigger lad dashes back TOWARDS the house where the father of the family is waiting for him. As they struggle, a marked police car pulls up. Happy days!
My lost years. As I said, I could be here a while...Got slapped and sucker-punched from the back a few times. There are real nasty critters out there, but most of them can't take a punch. Never lost any possessions to them. Then again, other than the Lydz incident, I was fortunate not to be threatened with or end up at the other end of a knife.
lol rochdale, live up the road from said hell hole and iv worked the doors in the town centre its been a hole since i first went out in it 21 years ago when i was 17.
sad thing is the last time i was down i would still see the same faces knocking about one guy stands out a mile. brian may, used to be in xanadu's all the time
Most definitely the former. Sometimes I'll play along and rev my engine back, gripping the steering wheel and grinning back like a Cheshire cat possessed. Only to crawl away at a very steady old man speed, and not until the light hits green either, none of this Amber - GO! I tell myself they'd feel silly, but I imagine many times they wouldn't realise and then brag later how they did lots of cars at the lights.
Swindon is pretty much Chavscum Central, especially at the lower end of the Town Centre round Wilkinsons and Cash Converters.
Thing is, the "social underclass" has always existed, just seems more upfront in the last ten years or so. After all, was it the Sex Pistols who's lyrics went something like,
"Running for the bus in my flash blue suit.
Someone shouted POOF!
So I put in the boot.
It's my boss that makes me wear it.
So when you laugh at me you only laugh at you."
With apologies to Mr Vicious and Mr rotten if not quoted verbatim.
In the sixties it was the mods and rockers, in the fifties teddy boys.
Difference back then was, if they "nancked" someone, would probably lead to a 9am appointment with Mr Pierrepoint or one of his colleagues to ensure they never bothered anyone again.
Thing is, the "social underclass" has always existed, just seems more upfront in the last ten years or so. After all, was it the Sex Pistols who's lyrics went something like,
"Running for the bus in my flash blue suit.
Someone shouted POOF!
So I put in the boot.
It's my boss that makes me wear it.
So when you laugh at me you only laugh at you."
With apologies to Mr Vicious and Mr rotten if not quoted verbatim.
In the sixties it was the mods and rockers, in the fifties teddy boys.
Difference back then was, if they "nancked" someone, would probably lead to a 9am appointment with Mr Pierrepoint or one of his colleagues to ensure they never bothered anyone again.
Good stories guys, thread is delivering!
Wow, you're like the Attenbrough of Chavdom! If you think of any more stories post them, its very entertaining.
So lets get this straight, you don't understand the hate for violent, anti-social chavs because they give you a £2 tip? Erm. Right.
My lost years. As I said, I could be here a while...
Wow, you're like the Attenbrough of Chavdom! If you think of any more stories post them, its very entertaining.
So lets get this straight, you don't understand the hate for violent, anti-social chavs because they give you a £2 tip? Erm. Right.
Soldato
- Joined
- 1 Mar 2010
- Posts
- 6,316
Yes, I learned of this 'salubrious' locale by chance: Helloween4545 goes off on tangents about it in his 'Let's Play' videos on YouTube. Always gives me a laugh. I like how their Wikipedia entry's main photo is downhill from a graveyard vantage point. An image of such hope and resilience, to be sure!
I should make a set of new business cards. Career in broadcast journalism awaits! Imagine... BBC4(3 more appropriate for gonzo stuff?)... late night... and the programme title scrolls over a picture of a Brutalist concrete edifice, weathered by age and neglect: 'Life: Precarious Cryptozoology of Great Britain'
I'll see if I can collect more material from friends, but for now I'm out.
Soldato
- Joined
- 17 Jun 2012
- Posts
- 5,951
No matter how Neanderthal they are, they always seem to attract the fit little skanks.
Soldato
- Joined
- 1 Mar 2010
- Posts
- 6,316
Well guys it's a slow wet Sunday. .. any more for any more?
Alas, the EU banter took over my life. Otherwise it's fairly quiet, though a Salford or Wolverhampton run may be on the cards now. We shall see...
Alas, the EU banter took over my life. Otherwise it's fairly quiet, though a Salford or Wolverhampton run may be on the cards now. We shall see...
I passed through Wolverhampton today on the train... man that place is run down...