The Chorleywood Chav
For those of you who are not in the know, Chorleywood is a small insignificant little town i Hertfordshire jsut beyond London and the M25. Whilst it is pleasant it has little of special merit to commend it in particular and tends to be one of the dullest places on earth after dark. It is in effect middle England, two small parades of second string shops a few pubs and takeaways and nothing of note to attract the night-time visitor apart from homes to burgle and cars to steal.
So visitors from other places are rare (not unwelcome in the least but unusual) and must, you would think, be going somewhere directly with some degree of purpose.
But no, there is one, a visitor, he arrives by train in the early evening, alone, and hangs or chills, sorry "fuckin' chills" in this happening metropolis with the home grown morons. Now there is nothing unusual in deformed, alienated and displaced youth (alternatively known as pikey scum) hanging out, other than the fact that he gets the train there to do it, and indeed that there is nothing there of any merit to "fuckin' chill" around.
His vocabulary is particularly limited restricted to "fuckin" and "oi" and "garfff" and one sentence I did catch along the lines of "chew'kin strinat" which I believe was directed at me last night just as I went out of earshot. Something to do with my being caught laughing at said Chav.
Now I am an old git and know little of fashion. I do however understand that Burberry should only be worn with a strong sense of the ironic which I suspect is missing from this gits mental armoury.
Coupled with the regulation addidas training kit, white socks and trainers and of course the obligatory hoodie (several of which I also own), my vague understanding is that this guy has the dress sense of Johnsons (see Harry). Similarly his mate when last seen ran a nice line in baggy nylon tracksuits in baby blue but this must surely have been some halucination on my part.
Anyway I have set the scene and it is not his or his mates attire that actually had me laughing out loud, I have seen worse and probably as a spotty kid wore far worse (not obviously reaching the heights of my brothers Kaftan but nevertheless). No said Chav has clearly been workng on his method acting and was getting fully into character when I approached last night and was, believing himself alone at this point, practising his walk.
To describe it as a walk in stead of a "swagger" is probably incorrect. David Bellamy has clearly seen a few behavioural rituals in the natural world but none as good as this. Said Chav had the feet splayed slightly, shoulders hunched and knees slightly akimbo (shitty word I know but what other would do) and was walking in the closest impersonation of a chimp that I have seriously ever seen. I had no way of recording this moron practicing his gait and would find it really hard to hold a camera still to record it. If there is anyone out there who could capture this twat on film I would pay small fortunes.
Yes Chorleywood, the twat in the (Burberry) hat. Go see him, its evil.
So visitors from other places are rare (not unwelcome in the least but unusual) and must, you would think, be going somewhere directly with some degree of purpose.
But no, there is one, a visitor, he arrives by train in the early evening, alone, and hangs or chills, sorry "fuckin' chills" in this happening metropolis with the home grown morons. Now there is nothing unusual in deformed, alienated and displaced youth (alternatively known as pikey scum) hanging out, other than the fact that he gets the train there to do it, and indeed that there is nothing there of any merit to "fuckin' chill" around.
His vocabulary is particularly limited restricted to "fuckin" and "oi" and "garfff" and one sentence I did catch along the lines of "chew'kin strinat" which I believe was directed at me last night just as I went out of earshot. Something to do with my being caught laughing at said Chav.
Now I am an old git and know little of fashion. I do however understand that Burberry should only be worn with a strong sense of the ironic which I suspect is missing from this gits mental armoury.
Coupled with the regulation addidas training kit, white socks and trainers and of course the obligatory hoodie (several of which I also own), my vague understanding is that this guy has the dress sense of Johnsons (see Harry). Similarly his mate when last seen ran a nice line in baggy nylon tracksuits in baby blue but this must surely have been some halucination on my part.
Anyway I have set the scene and it is not his or his mates attire that actually had me laughing out loud, I have seen worse and probably as a spotty kid wore far worse (not obviously reaching the heights of my brothers Kaftan but nevertheless). No said Chav has clearly been workng on his method acting and was getting fully into character when I approached last night and was, believing himself alone at this point, practising his walk.
To describe it as a walk in stead of a "swagger" is probably incorrect. David Bellamy has clearly seen a few behavioural rituals in the natural world but none as good as this. Said Chav had the feet splayed slightly, shoulders hunched and knees slightly akimbo (shitty word I know but what other would do) and was walking in the closest impersonation of a chimp that I have seriously ever seen. I had no way of recording this moron practicing his gait and would find it really hard to hold a camera still to record it. If there is anyone out there who could capture this twat on film I would pay small fortunes.
Yes Chorleywood, the twat in the (Burberry) hat. Go see him, its evil.