I was at a bit of a loss of what to write about this morning. Then a man in a business suit cleared his throat all over my shoe and a subject matter was born!

Quick disclaimer, I feel like I have heard the title of this post somewhere before but I can’t quite place it. I’d Google it, but then I might find the source and feel guilty about stealing it, so let’s just pretend I came up with it.

I am a strong believer that all of human society can be split into two categories, the chavs and the chavnots. For anyone reading who might not be aware of the term chav. It’s essentially the British word for scum. People who wear shell suits and beat their kids. That kind of scum.

You may be sitting at home now thinking gee willikers, these ‘chavs’ sound terrible, how can I recognise one easily? There are many ways to categorise and identify a chav. Personally I prefer sweeping generalisations, as they require the least amount of humanisation. So before you worry about how to avoid a chav, I’d first worry about where you fit on the chav scale. Here are a few qualifying factors:

  • Do you now, or have you ever owned a shell suit?
  • Have you at any time past or present suggested to friends that you all go for a ‘cheeky nando’s’.
  • Have you ever unironically categorised a man or woman’s appearance using a numerical value. E.g ‘ye man, she was definitely at least a 7 m8’.
  • Have you ever played music through a mobile phones speaker whilst on a public bus?
  • Have you ever stomped on a toddler during a Black Friday 30% off sale?
  • Is your idea of a good night out getting drunk under a bridge or on a street corner?
  • Do you live in North Wales?

Unfortunately if you answered yes to any of the above then I have some unfortunate news…

Of course the last factor is slightly in jest, but there is something about run down seaside holiday resorts that act as a beacon to the uneducated and the scouse (probably didn’t need the repetition there). There was a rumour when I was growing up in a small town in North Wales that Liverpool council had purchased a huge swathe of welsh council houses along the northern coastline and were shipping out all of their undesirables and housing them here.

Now… I don’t know if this is true, probably not. But the fact that this is even remotely believable should go a long way in describing how horrific North Wales was. It would be generous to label it ‘Britain’s Chernobyl’. If you didn’t personally know someone from Liverpool who was willing to stab a man at a moments notice then you were deemed a ‘homo’. I am not overly well travelled or cultured, so I cannot say this with any authority, but I would describe it as the chav capital of Europe.

You may be aware of North Wales’ incredibly weak industry and high unemployment rates. Although there may be a high correlation between poverty and chavvyness, I would hypothesise that the cause and effect here is going in only one direction. If you are a chav you are more likely to be poor, rather than if you are poor you are more likely to be a chav. Money is not the deciding factor, as is demonstrated by the business suit clad bellend who spat on my shoes.

Imagine if you will, if the current POTUS had been born without his silver spoon. If Trump had not had the small small loan of $1million to get himself started there’s a fairly strong chance that he would be cheering on his daughter in a beauty pageant right now shouting from the audience for her to show more tit. Instead he’s controlling the world’s most powerful military force and Tweeting too much. Trump is a prime example of someone who appears too wealthy and powerful to be considered a ‘chav’.

To me it’s hard to picture the current US presidency without imagining a sci-fi thriller where a group of scientists work tirelessly to return home from the universe’s most absurd parallel dimension, probably starring Miles Teller. But that’s just me. If you happen to agree with his views and policies that’s fine, but I think we can all imagine him having a bare knuckle fight in a carpark because someone hit on his wife…