Notorius C.H.A.V.
I went to the Cardiff Vue the other day to see Notorious. Ok, people could have a pop at me for my choice of film, but I thoroughly enjoyed it so I couldn’t care less what people think.
The viewing however was marred by an infestation of chavvy little cock-ends who could not keep their mouths shut. I’d caught a glimpse of these pathetic specimens in the ticket queue, and judging from the content of the film I knew they were going to be in the same movie as me.
It was just too obvious considering these little wannabe rappers (just a note that rappers actually have a fairly well defined grasp of language, something which was long abandoned by the chavs in question, who seemed to be trying out a poor Tim Westwood impression at their most coherent) seemed to be trying to live up to a flimsy image of being “gangsta” with their baseball caps, jogging gear (it goes without sayin they look like they’ve been living in those clothes for weeks now, do rappers actually dress like they’re wearing pajamas? I don’t think so), and pithy attempts at bling, which looked like the result of stealing the caps off of the neighbours milk bottles. The sad thing about all this was the cockish swagger that they had about them, as they clearly believed they looked, and were the dog’s testes. I know most people will realise that they are wrong, but clearly no one has told them.
I have dealt with these kinds of people before. Where I come from (near Croydon) is famed for this. I have seen the middle class kids who talk a good fight, but would piss their pants if faced with any of the violence they craved, well that is unless they are backed up with a Croo (posse, and squad also are names of swarms of wiggers) of about 20 and weapons, but then who couldn’t when facing down one or two other people. Most of the time they seem to strut about, generally being mischevious and foul mouthed for attention, and most people are unwilling to face them due to the moral panic around knife-crime.
Anyway as the film was starting, I and my fellow audience were treated with drama both on and off screen. Indeed it wasn’t long before, our viewing was interrupted by one of the little prats talking loudly. I heard much of this conversation quite clearly as a result and it went something like this:
“yo Blad, what iz yoo looking at”
“nothin’ bredrin’ shut yo mouth”
“yoo better not be otherwise I will stab yoo” and so forth
The fact that they have so much to prove that they threaten each other with knives, (or maybe the whole knife crime issue is just something idly thrown about by the youth) suggests a lack of confidence and brain cells in equal measures. So they threaten their friend with a good stabbing, and then what? Are they so dense that they think they’d sit down with a beer later in life and laugh about it? Do they really think it will solve their problems?
I was very tempted to tell the cunts to keep it down and then introduce them to some real violence should this request be ignored. However, I thought better of it, considering the tone of the conversation had turned to weapons once, and I was lacking in maiming instruments. If there was any justice in the world I would at least have been allowed to draw a sword on the chav and run his slanty baseball cap through as a warning.
The viewing however was marred by an infestation of chavvy little cock-ends who could not keep their mouths shut. I’d caught a glimpse of these pathetic specimens in the ticket queue, and judging from the content of the film I knew they were going to be in the same movie as me.
It was just too obvious considering these little wannabe rappers (just a note that rappers actually have a fairly well defined grasp of language, something which was long abandoned by the chavs in question, who seemed to be trying out a poor Tim Westwood impression at their most coherent) seemed to be trying to live up to a flimsy image of being “gangsta” with their baseball caps, jogging gear (it goes without sayin they look like they’ve been living in those clothes for weeks now, do rappers actually dress like they’re wearing pajamas? I don’t think so), and pithy attempts at bling, which looked like the result of stealing the caps off of the neighbours milk bottles. The sad thing about all this was the cockish swagger that they had about them, as they clearly believed they looked, and were the dog’s testes. I know most people will realise that they are wrong, but clearly no one has told them.
I have dealt with these kinds of people before. Where I come from (near Croydon) is famed for this. I have seen the middle class kids who talk a good fight, but would piss their pants if faced with any of the violence they craved, well that is unless they are backed up with a Croo (posse, and squad also are names of swarms of wiggers) of about 20 and weapons, but then who couldn’t when facing down one or two other people. Most of the time they seem to strut about, generally being mischevious and foul mouthed for attention, and most people are unwilling to face them due to the moral panic around knife-crime.
Anyway as the film was starting, I and my fellow audience were treated with drama both on and off screen. Indeed it wasn’t long before, our viewing was interrupted by one of the little prats talking loudly. I heard much of this conversation quite clearly as a result and it went something like this:
“yo Blad, what iz yoo looking at”
“nothin’ bredrin’ shut yo mouth”
“yoo better not be otherwise I will stab yoo” and so forth
The fact that they have so much to prove that they threaten each other with knives, (or maybe the whole knife crime issue is just something idly thrown about by the youth) suggests a lack of confidence and brain cells in equal measures. So they threaten their friend with a good stabbing, and then what? Are they so dense that they think they’d sit down with a beer later in life and laugh about it? Do they really think it will solve their problems?
I was very tempted to tell the cunts to keep it down and then introduce them to some real violence should this request be ignored. However, I thought better of it, considering the tone of the conversation had turned to weapons once, and I was lacking in maiming instruments. If there was any justice in the world I would at least have been allowed to draw a sword on the chav and run his slanty baseball cap through as a warning.
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