Uckfield. My home town for my entire life. I’ve watched it grow and develop from a small urban area which attracted the very elderly, into a blingin hood for da homeboys.
Everywhere you go within the town, you are guaranteed to have one of them swearing or spitting at you. local hangouts are Luxford car park, macdonalds and halfords, the bus station, or their newly acclaimed post… the train station. This is developing into THE place to go pimping. They sit on the roof of the shed in full view of the high street, allowing all passers by to see how hard they really are. And they really do think that they’re hard… once one of the shortest little twats you could imagine, decorated in full bling, pierced eye, and cap carefully balanced on the top of his head crossed the road in front of us, and called round to his posse “make sure you look hard lads!” Is there any need to look hard while you’re crossing the road?!

A small town nestled in the countryside in between brighton, tunbridge wells and eastbourne excellent areas for prosective ***** include luxford park, full of fun evening activities such as bottle smashing, vandalsim and underage ***.
For the slightly more mature **** homes include the **** and bull pub with switchblades issued on arrival and the broadway officially voted second worst club in briton (basically just an ******** with a bar inside)
One thing is for sure, wherever you go in uckfield you will find vomiting youths and poorly thought out threats galore
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A small town. Uckfield. My home. And god, I wish it wasn’t.
The amount of ****’s is REALLY overwhelming to the normal person, who visit, or heck, even live there, although, non-**** residents, are of late, thin on the ground.

The one location we must start with, is the alley beside the school.
Every day after school, there’s a group of ****’s, all smoking and coversing about their new Drum’n’Bass albums, or their thick, gold chain. One said ****, even walks around with a pimp medallion, and a Dollar sign at the end of the shiny, sparkly chain. I bet he sleeps with it, and washes it.

Next place, for the advanced and basic ChavSpotter alike, is the bus stop. Walking down to this public service area, will result in about several cries of “**** off, ******!” being directed at you. Just look around when you reach there, and you will spot at least 5 ***** at EVERY angle. Usually smoking or fighting about their petty ‘*******’ or who recently said something about their ‘Mommas’.

Ok, moving on, we have Tescos. The local supermarket. Guess why these specimens of Human de-evolution hang around there? To get five-finger discounts, of course. You walk in, and it seems relatively normal. Until, you walk past the alcohol Isle. About 5 *****, usually wearing puffa jackets with fluff on them, and a high-angled hat, and the earlier mentioned chains, can be seen fleecing Vodka, spirits, and more than not, Cans of Fosters.

This links into the next ChavSpot. Luxfords car park. This place is a hell on earth for the normal human being. Every friday night, the ***** gather, and drink said, stolen Alcohol. Their rate of consumption is beyond normal, and within five minutes, they become even MORE less human, and more Ape.

I bet you’re happy you don’t live in this ********.
And if you’re reading this, and wouldn’t mind living here.. Maybe you really are, just as ******** as our local specimens.