Fucking chavs

There’s a lot of evil cunts out there – and for once I’m not talking about the shower of shite we have at Westminster snuffling at the taxpayer-funded trough we so kindly fill to overflowing for them.

I’m talking about cunts like Joseph Phillips.

His beating of a pensioner to see what it felt like to kill somebody only seems to have made two papers today – the Sun and the Mail.

It does, however, seem to be an important story as it once again reveals what a lack of morality and cohesion there is in our society.

It’s got none of the blanket coverage of, say, the ex-junkie being whacked at the G20 demonstrations but it’s a rather more commonplace crime than such possible police brutality.

I suppose it’s all so mundane that it’s not newsworthy enough for everyone to cover.

Which is a sad comment on modern Britain in itself.

I have to fess up here and say that I really hate chavs – those spitting, swearing, semi-feral, Stella-swilling, dope-smoking, idle, parasitic fuckers who make many people’s lives a misery and whenever I see a crowd of chavs doing what chavs do so well, I’m filled with a desire to try and get hold of a shotgun and take a few out…

I wouldn’t do that, of course – I’d find myself in trouble, but I can’t help thinking that without such vast numbers of these revolting cunts – and their welfare-subsidised chav families – we’d all be a lot better off in all sorts of ways.

The answer?

Fucked if I know.

I think the best we can hope for is that they all get terminal liver damage and that chlamydia brings on sterility so the whole rotten ‘breed’ just dies out.

It can’t happen soon enough for me.

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