Working, as I do, in an area saturated with young office workers, I often have advertisements for gym membership thrust into my uneager hand. They mistake me for someone who's got the time and the inclination to work out.
Yesterday I was handed the new advert for the latest class at Gym Box.
"CHAV FIGHTING..." it said on the front. "...Martial arts with Burberry belts and a fist full of sovereign rings".
I turned to the inside.
"The louder they grunt the harder they fall...Why hone your skills on punch bags and planks of wood when you can deck some Chavs? Welcome to the wonderful world of Chav Fighting. A world where Bacardi Breezers are your sword and ASBOs are your trophy."
I think I ought to go to this class. Just to see what sort of twats it attracts. I'll take along some of my Chav mates dressed as middle class wankers and we'll kick shit out of the twats in the changing rooms.*
*Not really. Do you honestly think I know any Chavs, dear reader?
19 hours ago