(Homo Chavien : Biological definition of Chav's)
(Chav : ignorant, illiterate, working-class English folk with a penchant for designer sports ware, normally found in inner-city areas)
It was 300,000 years ago when Homo Sapien (modern man) wiped out his close cousin Neanderthal man in the forests of Europe. Since then the human lineage has not branched off…until now that is. In modern Britain, we are now witnessing a major upheaval in human evolution. Visit any major inner-city area in Britain today, and you will encounter the ‘rot’ to which I refer. An underbelly in the social strata; an underclass has been maliciously growing since the late 80’s. Worming its way into the very fabric of our society. The growth has been a self sustaining, autocatalytic process fueled by the vices of illiteracy, ignorance, unemployment, social dysfunction and negative genetic traits. Yes, i am referring to the rise of Chav scum in Britain.
Through a decade of interbreeding, alcohol and drug abuse, the gene pool of ‘Chavs’ (see definition above) has undergone major irreversible changes, and we have now reached a critical juncture where Chavs can no longer copulate with the wider population and bear healthy offspring. The genetic tree of Chavs has finally branched off; on its own doomed voyage of extinction.
Let’s now examine Homo Chavien in its natural habitat: Not far, from the once prosperous coal mines and soot covered dilapidated factories of northern England (that once served as the engine of the Industrial Revolution) lies ‘Leeds’. Or ‘Chav Central’, as it is commonly known. As you approach the outskirts of this festering boil on the English landscape, don’t be fooled by the sign that reads ‘Welcome to Leeds’ – there’s no welcome here trust me. This is the town that even the ‘great plague’ cowered from. When the Black Death swept across the English countryside in the 16th century, leaving behind in its wake the stench of death, it cast a petulant cursory glance upon this wreckage of a place, and then indignantly strolled off:
“There’s no work here for me” it said grimly. “For death has already come and gone”
As you take a sniff of the malodorous air on the outskirts of Leeds, you may catch a whiff of something oddly familiar, something omnipresent throughout the city, yes it is the rank odour of fake ‘Burberry’ Eau De Toilette (aftershave) – that universal of Chav fragrances. The odour gathers in strength as you further enter the bowels of this city, luckily though it is 3am, and the majority of Chavs are in bed, after a hard night of bibulous revelry, followed by pointless mayhem and thievery.
However, a few die hard and particularly hardcore chavs can be seen loitering about the grimey bus station, pretending to wait for a bus (at 3am), when actually they’re just waiting for the right moment to kick-in the ticket machine for loose change - presumably to feed their skunk weed addictions. That’s it mate! Get in there my son!
When the Chav is not busy mugging ticket machines and beating up old grannies, it can be seen wandering the city centre in search of a quick fix; which is where we are headed next.
As you enter the heart of the city, marvel at the abundance of sports shops with their gravitti covered shutters, that make up a disproportionate percentage of the total shopping space. Do not be alarmed, this is totally in line with the Chav penchant for sporty tracky bottoms and tops. Also, notice the dearth of security cameras, strategically placed around the city centre, on a perpetual look-out for some particularly nasty and persistent Chavs out on a late night shopping spree. There’s always a few die hards even amongst the filth.
The next point in our guided tour of Chav Central is the 24 hour off-license, run by a Mr Patel. For safety reasons, it is customary practice for Mr Patel to serve customers through a narrow hatchet attached to a heavily fortified shop window at this time of night. Notice the hardened hooded Chavs hanging outside the store, like stubborn shit stains, shivering in the wet cold; hands in pockets; one eye on a spliff and Longbow cider, and the other eye looking out for the Coppers. It’s either that or their reconnoitering for unfortunate victims. Bloody wank***!
Our final tourist stop is the local school; recruiting ground and factory for mass production of the latest models of highly efficient, fully functional and pretty nasty little Chav’s - to add to the cities already burgeoning population. Obviously, birth control is not widely practiced by Chavettes (female Chavs), presumably so that they can get child support benefits from the government.
This concludes our little tour of Chav Central.
It is quite clear from this study of the natural Chav habitat, that it is in stark contrast to other parts of the country. In addition, the anti social behaviour displayed by Chavs in their natural environment has driven out the majority of the resident ‘normal’ population. This has resulted in a reinforcing of the Chav genotype. i.e. an increase in 'Chavness'.
We are now witnessing a major branching of the evolutionary tree and the birth of a new species: Homo Chavien, in the inner cities of modern Great Britain. Social commentators may baulk at the findings of this social study, but they cannot ignore the facts; that Chav's have taken-over huge swaithes of the inner city landscape. The only pertinent question now is: What are we gonna do about it?
