'Daily' Chavwatch, Part 1 Spotty footballers, shit cars and Chavs 'avin it large. Happy St George's day. Stay out of trouble. 'appy saint joajes daaaaaaaaaayyy! Don't start no fights innit! Unless it's some caaaant wot deserves it. 'ave a WKD on me lads. Missed the action on BBC2. Pissed in Notting hill Instead. Bah, missed perhaps the finest Chav moment on the telly since that fat sub-human mongrel Lizzie graced the screens of Channel 4's Wife-Swap. Apparently on BBC2 last night a true Chav was being coerced into getting a job after years doing porridge. All the while I was in Notting Hill and failed to see a single Chav. I did, however see this marvellous Subaru Ford Escort Turbo RS type R on my travels, though. The Chavness off the owner is given away by the perfectly unnecessary Graphite 'lip' beneath the front bumpah. Always remember. where there is graphite, whether it be exterior or interior decoration, there is a Chav. This vehicle is for sale for a mere £1800. If you actually wish to purchase said vehicle, I will email you the guy's number. Just don't take the piss out of him; at least he's getting rid of it. EA Games prove that they have their finger on the pulse. OK, so I 'liberated' this image from UK Resistance (Nice site by the way)but I couldn't resist. Here we see EA selling the ultimate Chav game by getting it's endorsement from the ultimate Chav footballer! Perhaps the Chav's fondness for this series can be attributed to the similarity of FIFA to 'Thiever'. Perhaps not. The fat-arsed wunderkid seems to like it, though. Sarf-West London, Chav Top Trumps, part 2. The elusive rival car turned up this morning, allowing me to bring you part 2 of my stunning Chav Top Trumps serialisation. So let's turn our attention to this beautifully-appointed Peugeot 106. Firstly, it has Lexus-style rear clusters and a back shelf with the numbers '106' emblazoned on it in case the shape of the car wasn't a dead giveaway. You can imagine the scene, can't you? 'Wow, what a car! Is it some type of Lancia? A new BMW hatchback? It's got the M3 mirrors.. Wait a minute... I can just make out that back shelf. Oh I see, it's a 106." And in case you don't know the manufacturer of said supercar, the word peugeot has been written accross the front windscreen in what can only be described as a dyslexic child's hand. Also note the 'chrome' petrol cap; but the piece de resistance has to be the 'Engeeeeeerlund' flag motif on the number plates. This car has to win the prize as most Chavvish vehicle, at least the Clio has had some real welly spent on it. Vulgar and oversized decals.......................4/5 Horrific Paintjob..............................................4/5 Overstated and pointless 'body mods'.....5/5 Tinted windows...............................................2/5 Alloy Wheels.....................................................4/5 Sarf-West London, Chav Top Trumps, part 1. Have you ever noticed when walking down a street you normally see at least 2 Chavmobiles rather than just the one? The reason for this is because Chavs are firecely competitive beasts. If one 'upgrades' his car, then the other Chav must follow suit, or risk being shown up as a 'prick'. With this in mind then, I bring you part 1 of this contest, you can judge for yourself which vehicle is more Chavvish if you like. Reasons for this car to win: Firstly, it is a Renault Clio. Additionally, It has the words 'Type R' emblazoned on both windscreens. The ingenuity of this is that the 'R' is placed in the middle of the text, looking more like 'TyRpe' which is not far from 'Tripe', perhaps subliminal? This car is also equipped with a meaningless spoiler, Alloys with different-coloured clips on them (crazy) and the ostentatious Twin Exhaust. Below are my scores for this particular car, the higher the rating, the better. Vulgar and oversized decals.......................4/5 Horrific Paintjob..............................................2/5 Overstated and pointless 'body mods'.....4/5 Tinted windows...............................................3/5 Alloy Wheels.....................................................3/5 Maidstone, Kent. A spot of bother. I arrived in Maidstone with a mixture of anticipation and fear. Perhaps it was the proximity to Chatham, the home of chavdom that had me worried. The journey down had been wind-swept and rainy, and was perhaps a portent of things to come. I tried to buttress my bad spirit with the thought that I was going to a wedding; an occasion of merriment and much free alcohol. I went to the food court/cinema complex/Chav breeding ground and enjoyed a snack in a lovely themed restaurant with my girlfriend. I felt at ease as I could hear non-mockney voices chattering and it was early in the afternoon (all the Chavs would have been in the shopping centers at this time). It was then time to attend the wedding, which was a short walk over a footbridge, looking down on pituresque, if somewhat brown river. Eventually, the ceremony came to a close. The sense of forboding returned with a vegeance and I couldn't quite work out why. It was only when I came to cross the footbridge that I could see the reasons for my anxiety. 5 youths decked out in full Chav regalia confronted us. It was the way back to our car and hopefully civilisation, so we had no choice but to walk towards the waiting Chav platoon. I began to sweat as we neared the throng, they seemed to be loitering on the bridge for no particular reason. I clutched my wallet close to me, as we got ever closer. Eventually we reached their position, and to my amazement, they parted to allow us to get past. I felt like I had misjudged these creatures and felt full of goodness. I said 'cheers' as we crossed them. The smallest Chav moved towards me, and pressed his thumb into my right arm. 'What an ingenious attack' I thought, as I came to my senses and realised that I had been assaulted in a truly bizarre way by a youth of about 5 feet tall. I started to compose myself after my ordeal and said 'fucking Chav' to the chav in question. A tense moment ensued, where I tried to calculate whether I would be able to beat a few malnourished children to a bloody pulp, but thankfully they decided to go easy on me, no doubt eager to assault more innocents with a deadly thumb nerve-jab. We eventually left Maidstone and headed back into London. We pulled into a Petrol Garage off the A217 to be confronted by one of the most ludicrous Golfs I have ever seen. It was a fully-fledged Chavmobile, with obligatory touches including Bright Orange paintwork. I tried to photograph it, but the combination of the excitement of the moment plus several Oranjebooms meant that the shots look like all that is wrong with post-modernism. Never mind. 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