Wednesday, January 27th, 2010
I’m a couple of years off being 30 and I’m already complaining about ‘the youth of today’. Was there something put in the water around 1992 that made everyone born from that year onwards complete assholes? I understand the teen years can be tough, hey, we’ve all been there, but can they at least try to drag their heads out of their asses for a couple of hours a day?
Two days ago, around 4pm, we heard some random crash-banging around the back of our offices. We looked outside to see some chavvy teen bastards (non-Brits, if you’re unfamiliar with what a Chav is, click here) breaking some long strip lights they found lying around. One was smashing them while a group of boys stood around, laughing. And one girl, of course. There’s always one girl. She was fairly pretty, had about 17 layers of makeup plastered on her face with a trowel, shirt untucked, highlighted hair – the typical ‘too cool for school type’. It’s probably safe to assume she’s had a bit of action with all the lads she’s hanging around with.
As we all glared at them out the window, they saw us, laughed some more, then the twat waving the lights around, ready to smash another one, put it down gently, dramatically and they eventually left. I cast my mind back to when I was 15 to think about what my reaction would have been. I was scared of people over 20 back then. Had I seen my 28 year old self glaring down at me from a window, I would have crapped myself, told the person to stop breaking lights and then said ‘that lady who’s glaring at us is wearing a really pretty dress.’
Don’t get me wrong, I had a major attitude problem through my teens, but I still knew what was what and respected the people I needed to (except my parents, whom I was contractually obliged to disrespect during my teens). I never had that pack mentality, doing things just because the others were. That got me in a lot of crap with people I hung out with, but eventually, they all knew and respected the fact that no matter how much they badgered me to do something, if I didn’t want to, I simply wouldn’t. That, I’m proud to say, is an element of my character that remains to this day.
I also had these crazy things called ‘hobbies’. I was always into something. I was dancing three or four nights a week, piano classes and whatever else came up. There simply wasn’t the opportunity to break lights behind office buildings and class it as entertainment, nor would I have found that amusing in the slightest.
So parents, step the hell up! Get your kid into something, anything to keep them from pissing people off. Better yet, spend some time with the little buggers. Someone’s gotta get hold of these light breakers and teach them how society works before it’s too late.
Sunday, January 18th, 2009
I try to stay away from talking about the royals, mainly because they are a bunch of wankers. As Brits, our taxes are paying for those mother bitches to live the life. As if that weren’t annoying enough, the runt of the litter, Prince Harry seems to be getting the most airtime these days and this is beyond troubling.
Thursday, October 9th, 2008
The mind heals and then the body has a breakdown. Right now, I have two blocked nostrils, the sweats and some pain in my chest, but these fingers still work, so I shall bang out a post so help me God!
The other day, I was doing some behind the scenes admin on this here blog and thought I’d check out what Google searches bring people to my page. Some were strange, to say the least and some were just outright disturbing. Check them out below:
Squirrel Bun Hairstyles
Well, the squirrels in my area like to perform lewd acts in public places, but so far, they have not stolen my hairdo. We’ll have a real problem if that happens. I’ve been civil up to now, but I’m not scared to throw down with them.
Wanna Fuck Ann Curry
What did you think would come up when you googled that? She’s an attractive lady, that’s for sure. If only she’d get rid of those damn flip flops though.
How to sleep with Bangs
Lemme tell ya, it ain’t easy. I require multiple dinner dates, a criminal background check, a letter from your employer, medical records, psychological reports, a few pairs of shoes, and an in depth analysis of your CD collection. Then, maybe, just maybe, I’ll think about it.
Chav Japanese girl
The day the phenomenon of the Chav spreads to other countries, is the day I will weep for the world.
Joshua and Tanyalee
Oh you poor bastards. You Googled these names because you want to find a love like theirs. Sorry I killed the moment for you.
Bra Fitting for men
Umm, I have no words, except maybe, may I suggest surgery?
Should I get bangs overweight?
Honey, I am the ultimate ambassador for bangs, so my response will always be yes. But maybe send me a picture of yourself, just so I can be sure you’re making the right decision.
Don’t want a short man
Amen sister. A-to-the-men. It’s what I’ve been saying all along.
But hey, I don’t care what brings you here, as long as you get here, read, have a giggle and tell your friends to stop by (because I’m trying to get PAID!).
I welcome one and all. Keep coming, because Bangs and a Bun is just good for the soul.
Monday, April 14th, 2008
Strange things are afoot in Blighty my friends. And it comes in the form of one of the weirdest family sagas that side of the pond has probably ever seen.
It all started in February when nine year old school girl, Shannon Matthews went missing and an intense 3 week search began for the young ‘un.
This search was of a scale not seen since the hunt for the Yorkshire Ripper. Over a 24-day period, the search involved, among other things; hundreds of police officers, hundreds of members of the local community handing out flyers or looking for the girl, sniffer dogs, the search of over 2000 houses in the local area and intense daily media coverage.
Then, on March 14th, the girl was found, alive. Less than a mile from her home. In her step-dad’s uncle’s house. In a storage cupboard under the bed.
Slowly, it emerged that the whole thing was a big sham, set up by the family. One by one, they were arrested. The step-father seems to have been the ring leader in the whole thing and he got his uncle, sister and mother in on the act.
The child’s mother is 32 years old with seven children by five different men. Clearly, she’s a classy broad with strong sexual morals. The step-father is 22 years old and when the police came to arrest him, they found kiddy porn on his computer. I think we’ve found a pretty strong contender for Family of the Year.
The step-father’s uncle was arrested and charged with kidnapping and false imprisonment (he then slit his wrists while in custody, but survived and got pretty much no sympathy).
The step-father was charged with multiple counts of possessing kiddy porn and his mother and sister were charged with assisting an offender and perverting the course of justice.
Then, the icing on the cake, the mother was charged with perverting the course of justice. It is believed she knew the whereabouts of her daughter the entire time. Apparently she and her fellow messed up family members managed to raise a fair amount of money for the ‘search efforts’, not to mention her entire community was out searching for her daughter while she was sitting back, probably laughing it up as the money and attention rolled in.
And yes, lets not forget about the child. It seems that all the adults in her life are absolute wankers and this poor kid will now end up in care, and probably in therapy, for the rest of her life.
Everyone involved in this should get very hefty sentences, but the mother should bear the brunt. What kind of mother does that to their kid? And this woman has 7 kids people! How are people like her allowed to procreate? (Aside from anything else, nature was not very kind to her, if you know what I’m saying (and I think you do), so I literally cannot figure out how this woman ever got laid once, never mind enough times to produce SEVEN offspring.) They should tie her tubes while she’s in prison. That woman’s womb has unleashed some craziness upon the world.
With the amount of media attention this has been getting, this is sure to be the trial of the century. Get your popcorn at the ready – it’s gonna be a good one!
Ladies and Gentlemen, we have our first hater
I got my first bit of hateration on here the other day and frankly, I feel like I have arrived. I wrote a piece about Chavs a while back and it gets a crazy amount of hits on this here blog. Well, I seem to have upset someone with my stereotypical view of the Chav. This person decided to leave their two cents, in the form of a comment, on that post recently. It read:
not bein funny but not all chavs get drunk and dont finish skl.
im a chav and proud of it but i do well at skl in fct i get mainly a’s and b’s and i dont get drunk.chavs get attacked 4 being sterotypical and having a mouth but ur being sterotypical now its lyk not all chavs r lyk dat its a handful who give da rest a bad name lyk in anythink blud
Oh my poor little Chav lamb. It boggles my mind how being a Chav has become something one boasts about or is proud of, but I admire your whole hearted acceptance of who you are. I have a couple of gripes with your comment though.
Firstly, I have to call you out on your stellar academic record. As and Bs? Really? Not with that grammar, sweetheart. I had to re-read your comment a few times just to fathom what the hell you were talking about (and I’m still not all the way sure I do, so I’m kinda winging it here).
Secondly, the term ‘Chav’ really only applies to the people I described in my post, who engage in highly offensive behaviour and have no social graces whatsoever. So, you, judging by your description, are not actually a Chav. You are just working class. I understand you probably have a bunch of Chavvy friends and you feel the peer pressure to be like them (hence your hasty claim that you are one), but being a straight up working class individual, with an interest in school (albeit, questionable grammar skills) and no early onset of alcoholism, is much cooler than being a Chav.
And lastly, do they have classes in how to have a sense of humour at your school? If so, you should sign up, pronto.
Thursday, February 28th, 2008
Yesterday morn, I awoke to the news that England had an earthquake overnight. A little bit of panic stirred in me. I got on all the UK news sites to get the scoop. As I waded through the shocking headlines and read the stories, I found that it had lasted about 20 seconds, one person had been injured and it had left ‘a trail of destruction’ (read: a few tiles fell off a roof somewhere).
Bitch, please! Talk about an overreaction.
I went on Facebook and nearly all my friends in the UK had a status along the lines of ‘So and so felt the earth move last night!’ or ‘So and so was woken up by the shaking!’ Some had even made a crafty joke about how their significant other hadn’t rocked their world, but the earthquake had. Oh, how they slay me.
Now, having lived in Japan, where earthquakes are commonplace, I consider myself well versed in the art of the tremor. So, maybe for me, earthquakes are just passé at this point. Don’t get me wrong, the one in England Tuesday night was a 5.2, which is no baby quake, but it ain’t the mother of all quakes either. And obviously, if you’ve never experienced one before, it is quite a strange sensation, so I can understand the hysteria, up to a point. But the more I read, the more I laughed.
On The Guardian website, Jon Jenken from Bourne in Lincolnshire was quoted as saying: ‘I was woken up. It was hell.’
Really Jon? It was hell? Everyone has different versions of hell I guess. Mine is a big American Apparel store filled with people in leggings, Crocs and Uggs and Jimmy Saville is there, playing bagpipes and an army of Chavs in fake burberry terrorize the ‘posh twats’ and there’s no internet access and all my ex boyfriends are there and there’s all that fire and stuff. But being woken up from my slumber? Annoying – yes. Hellish – not quite.
But, let us not forget, there was one person injured in this mega quake that shook the nation. The poor guy broke his pelvis. I say to him; stick a pack of frozen peas on it. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.
Hopefully everything will get back to normal now. Maybe they could put Jimmy Saville to work clearing up the ‘trail of destruction’ on his way back to hell.
Monday, February 11th, 2008
Up until recently, The Chav was our dirty little secret.
Unfortunately, somehow, someone, somewhere blew the lid of that secret and now Chavs are everywhere.
Allow me to elaborate:
It would be easy to lump Chavs in with your bog standard white trash, but there’s much more to this intriguing British subculture.
A working class people, Chavs have an intense dislike of anyone who finished high school or, God forbid, actually chose to go to university. Education is their enemy. Their time is much better spent getting involved in extreme acts of delinquency; harassing/assaulting ‘posh twats’ (i.e., anyone who doesn’t live on a council estate, shop at JD Sports or holiday in Majorca), public drunkenness, hanging around on street corners ‘protecting’ their turf, that kind of thing. ASBOs (Anti-Social Behavior Orders) were basically invented to control Chavs, keep them out of the public eye. But instead, they pretty much embraced the ASBO as a badge of honor.
Chavs are easily identifiable through their unique fashion choices:
- Jewelry; mainly multiple chains and sovereign rings, all imitation gold of course.
- Reebok Classics; the Chav trainer of choice.
- Lacoste T shirts; fake again (the unemployment cheque doesn’t stretch far enough for a real one)
- Adidas track pants; the kind that are elasticated at the bottom, so you can see the Reebok Classics better.
- Polyester; any Chav wardrobe is made up of anywhere between 65-90% unnatural fibers.
And of course, the Chav Haute Couture; Fake Burberry.
Burberry (those poor bastards), were once a reputable British designer label. (And by ‘once’ I mean around the 1970s when they did that fantastic rain Mac – a classic). Around 1999, they started putting their signature printed lining on just about anything they possibly could. The craze grew and grew and then Chavs got hold of it. For a time, Burberry made a cap covered with their stripy-lined print. If the Chavs had a uniform, this would be it. (Naturally, they wear the fake version). Fake Burberry jackets, shirts etc sprung up all over the place and Chavs could be seen donning them while engaging in all their highly offensive Chavery.
Burberry ceased production of the caps. Soon after, seeing how their good name was being associated with this extremely negative subculture, they stopped putting the print on everything and relegated it back to its original use as a lining material.
But the damage was done. Any Brit with an ounce of taste wouldn’t buy something Burberry now if you paid them, for fear of being associated with the most hated social group in the country.
So now, they’re out, they’re proud and they’re not going away any time soon. ASBOs are no match for the force that is, the Chav.
As long as there are fake versions of designer duds, alcohol, unemployment and hoodies – Chavs will rock on.