Smellmycheese's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘chavs

Someone wise (or whose name I just can’t remember) once said that wasps are like chavs with wings, and I can see where they’re coming from to an extent: irritating, pointless and prone to unprovoked acts of violence.

I’ve yet to see a wasp in Elizabeth Duke playing donk out of its mobile phone on the back of the Number 1, however, but you never know. 

For the uninitiated, donk is a bit like a mix between techno and happy hardcore, which is pretty much the same as saying it’s like someone taking a dump in one of your ear holes, whilst shouting BASSLINE into the other.

It’s quite amusing though. As is someone taking a dump in your ear (your ear, not mine). For a prime donk example, check out this Blackout Crew video. Turn it right up and watch it all and, if you’re anything like me, you’ll get a strange, guilty pleasure from it.

I especially like the albino chap in black on the left. That’s right dear, you put a donk on it.

As for Elizabeth Duke, it’s jewellery that can be purchased from Argos for those extra special occasions when you need just the right item of jewellery to complement your outfit.

Such as a massive fucking clown pendant.

We’ve all been there.

massive fucking clown pendant

It's my birthday in just over three months folks... (hint, hint)

As usual, I digresss. The point is, I don’t know if wasps wear wasp-sized clown pendants and listen to donk, but it wouldn’t surprise me. What I do know is that they scare me far more than any chav ever will.

For one, a chav has yet to creep up on me unawares and attack me with its venom, causing me to develop a massive comedy hand for almost a week. Nor have I ever been swarmed by shitloads of chavs trying to get into my drink whilst I sit in a beer garden. Although though that does sound like something they might try to do, granted.

Below are a couple of pictures of my massive comedy hand for you, following the entirely unprovoked attack just last week.

comedy hands

comedy hand

I took these photographs for a couple of reasons.

  1. Sympathy. Obviously. What’s the point in being injured if people don’t know about it? It’s like self harming where no one can see. Pointless.
  2. Proof. If proof be needed, which apparently it does (amazing grammar there – sure you’ll agree), that wasps are vindictive, evil little bastards and my fear of them is 100% justified.


If anyone ever tries to tell me ever again that wasps ‘won’t bother you unless you bother them’ I’m going to take the cast of my massive hand that I’ve had made and smack them around the face with it.

Seriously people, it’s total bollocks. If a wasp flies near you, don’t just sit there like a lemon waiting to get stung, bloody run!

For now, I leave you with this awesome video from the vastly talented Kersal Massive, who sum up with dazzling lyrical profundity and an insight belying their years, what it truly means to be a youth in today’s Great Britain.

I challenge a tear not to creep to your eye at the line “Got on the bus with my day saver…”

Touching stuff.

Kersal Massive

"Fancy a spot of grand theft auto old chap?" "Why the devil not! After Countryfile though old bean."

So I thought I’d try and blog about my Aussie Adventures (TM) because it’s easier than emailing individual people and obviously everyone wants to hear me talk about myself some more, but from the other side of the world.

Having had less than two hour’s sleep in 24 hours I should really be in bed but am instead, selflessly writing this.

You’re welcome.

I left rainy Manchester behind at 9.15 on Sunday morning with a sense of trepidation. Mainly concerning the fact that I’m genuinely worried I’m going to get stung by one of Australia’s two deadly jellyfish, one of which gives the ‘stingee’ symptoms including “overwhelming doom and despair”, as well as excruciating pain, and death of course, if you don’t get it treated in time (vinegar apparently does the trick). Not my words folks, the words of the Australia Rough Guide.

Fun things on the plane included: being brought excessive numbers of hot lemony towels and meals. The hot lemony towels were pretty pointless but fairly inoffensive. The six meals over the course of 24 hours were much more offensive, as I’ve now negated all the months of sweating like an untrained chimp in front of Davina and Natalie Cassidy workout dvds by eating everything that was put in front of me, just because it was ‘free’ (i.e. included in the 900 quid plane ticket cost…) Willpower, what’s that?!

Second fun thing – being sat next to a chav couple. The female half of which proceeded to talk at me excessively until I blocked her out with headphones. The upside of this being I watched loads of movies, including In The Name of the Father. About the Guildford Four and starring the amazing Daniel Day Lewis. I cried lots. If you haven’t watched it then do!

After that flight and the connecting flight from Singapore to Sydney my Uncle picked me up and I’m currently at his and my Aunt’s lovely house on a mountain about two hours away from Sydney proper, where I’ll stay until I start a trip up the East Coast on Sat.

Spotted two wombats on the way – much fatter and bigger than I thought. And can hear the sound of lots of frogs around outside. Can’t wait to see it all in the daylight tomorrow!

Must sleep now. Will update again soon…

Night night from Down Under.

Disclaimer: any typos can be put down to me being jetlagged and sleep deprived. As can this blog post being a boring pile of crap.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then let me begin with a question:

What would you think of me if I were to say “ba boom cha!” and make a drumming motion with my hands each time I said something funny?

What if I did it each time I said something not particularly funny at all? For example: “I went to the shops today, ba boom cha!” *drumming motion with hands*.

How about if I did it after you said something not very funny at all? You: “I’m a bit tired today”. Me: “ba boom cha!” *drumming motion with hands*.

I can guess what your answer is. You’d think I was at best a humourless twat, best-avoided, or, at worst, some kind of mentally-challenged sociopath with a flimsy grasp on social norms and conventions.

And you’d be right.

Thankfully I don’t do this, however, because I am, for the most part, fairly mentally stable.

Why then, has it become acceptable for otherwise intelligent, respectable members of society, who probably don’t have families locked up in their cellars and who are mentally aware enough to get themselves dressed successfully each morning, to use ‘LOL’ at the end of every other sentence?

Just because it’s in written form, doesn’t make it okay.


As far as I can see there are several reasons for otherwise normal human-beings resorting to LOL. I’ll take you through each one and tell you why they’re all wrong. (The following also applies to ROFL, LMAO, PMSL and so on and the only possible exception to these rules is if you are being ironic and witty.)

1. If you need to tell people that something you’ve said is funny, it’s not.

2. If you need to inform me I’ve done a funny, a) I know, and b) just write “ha ha”. It’s only two characters longer and has the added bonus of not making you look like a twat. 

3. If you do it at the end of an otherwise completely unfunny sentence that either you or I have written, such as the aforementioned “I’m a bit tired”, then you’re probably a bit of a mental and should seek professional help sooner rather than later.

It’s difficult for me to put into words just how much this phrase truly makes my bile rise.  The very sound of it is lazy and annoying and reminds me of chavs on buses who are unfettered by the restraints of headphones and prefer to share their jaunty basseline beats with fellow passengers.

And, speaking of which, who doesn’t love tinny bassline pumping out of a mobile phone to accompany their journey on public transport?

Best when you’ve forgotten your mp3 player or it’s just died, such soothing melodies are usually accompanied by raised conversations between charming thirteen-year-olds about how they got well mashed last night innit.


Along with the comforting scent of weed and cigarettes wafting up your nostrils, it’s like a little present from God to remind you that, yes, you are a twenty-something-year-old that still can’t drive and shouldn’t you really do something about that?

Back to LOL momentarily though and reason number:

4. Perhaps you use LOL simply as a convenient way to end a sentence and it’s just become a habit? Well, that can be easily rectified. Try using a good, old-fashioned full stop. Look, I just did it then. And again. Easy peasy, you see?

And if you’re concerned that people will think you’re a bit too serious, why not try our old pal the exclamation mark? It’s easy too! See, didn’t that just illustrate what a happy, go-lucky kind of gal I am? Thought so.

If people don’t realise you’re joking when you are, just immediately label them as stupid. That’s what I do, and I’d imagine it will get me far in life…


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