When you first walk around Shrewsbury you wouldn’t think it was a **** town, and compared to some other places I’ve been it’s not that bad, but make no mistake, they’re here and they’re probably standing at the Argos jewelry counter right now eyeing up some gold signet ring.

**** hot spots in Shrewsbury:

Outside McDonald’s – They’ve been ******* round outside there as long as I can remember. I have no idea why ***** congregate outside McDonalds (or Maccy D’s as they like to call it), it’s just one of those facts of life.

The Bus Stop – They can be seen crawling all over here, usually harrasing some old lady for the extra 20p then need for the bus ride home to Monkmoore, Harlescott or Telford Estate.

Liquid – I suppose it is possible to have fun here, even when your shoes are stuck to the floor, but you have to admit that it’s 50% **** at the best of times.

Flares – I don’t even go in there because it’s gayer than a naked-man-pyramid but I hear it’s where ***** go when they get to 30.

Wilkinson’s – That who area is ******** by 30 somethings called Sharon. Wtf.

Any sports shop – The usual magnet to *****, go into any sports shop and you’ll find them looking at the caps to find one they can wear at some crazy 90 degree angle to their head.

THE BIG QUESTION: Do ***** know that they are infact *****?

Seems unlikely. Some ***** grow out of it when they’re 14 or so, others are destined for a life of wife beating, harrasing old ladies and standing outside shops drooling on the windows.

A SHREWSBURY TWIST ON THE **** – The Skate Rat **** / Avril Lavigne ****

I’ve noticed a lot of these round Shrewsbury, little annoying shoplifters carrying skateboards around who can’t do much with them other than use them to break windows on entry. Also, Avril Lavigne type ***** who think they’re punk as **** just because they’ve got some striped elbow sock things. You know you like Craig David, why resist?

I’d like to end with a little message to anyone who’s name is Kev, Big Dave, or any nickname ending with ‘o’ such as Devo. You’re a ****, stay at home in Monkmoore and keep the ********** there.

Like many towns where a major public school is located, Shrewsbury has its fair share of filthy ***** for its ranks of decent young chaps to abuse/fight with etc. From the great plateau on which the school is located, it is possible to view the entire town in all its chavesque splendour. The first **** point of call is just underneath the plateau on the banks of the winding river severn (a popular place for small chavlings to throw bricks, breeze blocks and broken stolen goods at swans and the occasional unfortunate rower), and it is called the Quarry. The Quarry is a large park of great beauty, the sort of place you’d like to take your girlfriend for a stroll/picnic/***. Or at least it would be if it wasn’t populated by the sort of people that make you vomit a small amount of bile into your mouth. The quarry is home to filth from all walks of chavdom, from the 45 degree-angled cap-wearing 14-24 year old males to your standard young ********* with tightly slicked back hair who are still touting for a quick shag despite being pregnant to an unknown father with little “terry-ann”, a future **** to take the mantle of disgrace from her mother when she dies of obesity aged 33. As a quick sidenote, anyone visiting Shrewsbury should under NO CIRCUMSTANCES enter the quarry after 7pm at night. The goths come out and do their sacrifices (both human and animal), besides which just the shock of the smell and sight of those ********* rapscallions will probably **** you on its own.
Moving on from the quarry, the next stop on the Shrewsbury **** tour is the KFC opposite the Bellstone near the bottom of Pride Hill. In KFC you never see the young *****, only the old ones who seem to have given up the will to live and are committing slow suicide in the form of clogging their arteries with junk food until they keel over and die, to be cleaned up by the long-suffering staff (incidentally the staff at KFC unbelievably aren’t too ******!). Just down the road from KFC is Xanadu, a burger and pizza takeaway. I cannot stress enough how superb Xanadu is, their legendary triple decker burger allowed me to survive 5 years of Shrewsbury School food, but only when safely brought to me by delivery, as venturing down to Xanadu itself would simply be suicide. Do not, I repeat DO NOT, visit Xanadu at night. It is outside here where the drunken ***** (young and old, mostly old) congregate to engage in that most honourable and ancient of ativistic displays of manhood; fighting. The police in Shrewsbury aren’t too quick on the draw (lot of ********** round there), and hence tend to arrive some time after the ambulancemen have taken away the bodies of many a scrawny **** who thought he was man enough to take on “Big Leroy” or some other such filthy individual with a major testosterone imbalance. Xanadu is situated halfway down a road full of pubs such as The Merchant Stores and The Exchange, these are major **** watering holes, and must under no circumstances be entered at any time. Yet these do not even compare to the delights of Mardol, Shrewsbury’s premier nightlife street. On Mardol it is possible to find both a Yates’ AND a Weatherspoons. Not only this but it is home to the disgraceful institution that is “The Bedroom” (believe me you would rather be on your own in your own bedroom at home). These bars lie within a 50 yard radius of each other. A police CCTV van sits on the corner every saturday. Yet ***** still end up clashing week in week out and it gets rather messy. These fine bastions of drinking are only the warm-up before entry to perhaps the ultimate **** HQ of any town. A Liquid Nightclub. When liquid moved in someone obviously had more than two braincells to rub together and placed it next to the police station. This location would perhaps be more useful if the police station was manned by more than one ****** cretin, but hey, I wouldn’t want to be around there on a Saturday night if I was a police officer either. Besides, the entire budget was probably used up on the aforementioned CCTV van.
The next great **** haunt of Shrewsbury is Pride Hill, the main shopping street of the town. Located on pride Hill are two shopping centres, the Darwin and the originally named “Pride Hill Shopping Centre”. These centres are home to the standard **** boutiques, JJB Sports, TK Maxx, H Samuel (to buy cheap wedding rings for their bits of filth and steal bling) along with numerous others. ***** in Shrewsbury don’t actually hang around the shopping centres, but outside on the legion of cast iron benches that line the street. Here they chat about their pathetic little lives and talk about how drunk/stoned/arrested they got last night. They also favour the towns Virgin Megastore, also located on Pride Hill, another target for ***** who wish to steal the latest Streets single or other such chavmusic favorites.
Shrewsbury *****’ other favorite pastime is attempting to fight Shrewsbury School boys. Walking through the town you would frequently hear such witty abuse as “posh tw*ts” or the jaw-droppingly stupid chant of “rich”. I’ll leave you to work that one out on your own… At night the ***** would venture up the bank and attempt to gain access to the school site. Due to lots of burglaries recently the school is now patrolled by perhaps the most useless security firm of all time (the police said they’d be better of employing people from the local estates) who do absolutely nothing to stop them, which suits the Shrewsbury boys just fine as every door in the houses on the edge of the site has a selection of cricket bats and other ****-bashing implements next to it with which to cause extreme pain and preferably terminal injuries. Few will forget the days of Fordham and Chappers, who took great pleasure in capturing *****, Chappers simply for the pleasure of eating them.
So there you have it, Shrewsbury in all its filthy wonder. People will often tell you that it is a beautiful town with loads of history etc etc. They are lying.

If it wasn’t for the *****, attracted by a cheap riverside shopping centre, Shrewsbury would probably be alright. However, it is a total ********.
Being in Shrewsbury must be good for *****. They can shoplift from the miniscule HMV with the oversized dance ‘music’ section, eat their excrement-like inedible ‘food’ in the medieval McDonalds, and go back to the shopping centre so they can spit through straws at passers-by while obscuring the only staircase leading to a bridge towards the car park on the opposite side of the Severn.
When you see all of the TV footage of the flooding there, you wish that all of the bloody ***** drowned as they drove their Novas out of the submerged riverside car park, but they’re always there afterwards.