The birth of language

London is such a uniquely cosmopolitan city that you can go for days without bumping into an Englishman. From the Albanian Big Issue seller, to the Japanese grocer; from the Aussie ad execs, to the Italians who spend all day at Luigis restaurant (with a menu that still hasn’t changed after 8 years); from the Polish girls in the coffee shop to the Pakistani newsagent; all form part of that one ingredient that makes London, well London, we are all foreigners; and we’re all in this together.

The English do have many groups to be admired; the toffs who hang out in Chelsea and live off their inheritence; the yobs who fester on street corners abusing passers by and comparing who has the more ASBO’s (The ASBO, or Anti Social Behaviour Order is the medal of honour in yob society); the North London Jews (Kugels my doll); the WAGS who were England’s only source of entertainment at the World Cup; the wannabee WAGS who aspire to marrying a footballer and getting bigger boobs; the hoodies who provided London youth with the unique fashion of a cap with a hood pulled over it; hoodies are really yobs or if you go up North (sorry Norf) they become scallies; they’re the same people except that yobs say cupboard, while scallies say coobard; in general though they all sound like Ali G; the Essex boys love their white reebocks and earings; the Essex girls love their hoop earings, colourful make-up and micro-micro-miniskirts. Many of them are teenage parents, their children conceived in much the same way they were, the back alley of a pub, a filthy toilet on a train, or basically any toilet that fits two extremely drunk, pasty lovers. No matter which group they come from, they are always more then willing to stand in a queue.

Yet all these groups pale into insignificance when compared to what must be, the greatest social group to emerge from Europe since the great minds of the Renaissance, The Chavs. This group is so unique that an entirely new language has formed around them, using influences as diverse as gangsta rap, sms speak, and the possible over reliance on the suffix ink. They are masters of the debate, while at the same time helping to promote British brands like Burberry and ensuring the continued demand for the supply of gold; which as you know is extremely beneficial to gold producing countries.

While a negative image is often portrayed of these misunderstood souls, I would have to say there is absolutely nothing wrong with being a Chav. They enjoy exhibiting their wealth through jewellery and designer labels, which is their right. Yet aging cowards who are probably jealous because they could not afford the Chav luxuries when they were growing up continually abuse them. I believe it is time for us to salute the Chavs and to let them know that we shall not be moved.

Or as a Chav may so eloquently put it

Oi bruv seriously der aint nuffink wrong wiv bein a chav yer, so wot if we wanna wer big gold earings and designer clothes wots wrong wiv dat? it shows we av money init! But wen ur sittin der tryin 2boy us all off wiv ur sneeky little blue comments after we say summink shows how much of a pussy u r init bruv, seriously u need 2fuckin grow up i bet ur like 50 and gray and use 2get bullied in school coz u was fat init and ur parents wer poor arse ppl so couldnt afford 2by any gold or designer shit. Bruv just stop h8in and startin appreciating! Hold tight all da chav's and dong giv in lol xXx