I thought I’d share some insight into the day to day existence of what I’d hope would be considered a “regular” person when placed inside a feral den – the sort of place the welfare state has created, and why we should be so shit scared of it spreading that we should really consider doing something about it right now.
We had a dream of getting on the property ladder – owning a home, starting a family, you know, the sort of thing frowned upon nowadays. I work hard. So does my missus. We got what we could afford, which was a rundown shitheap in the middle of one of the most well known breeding grounds for scum in the UK. I won’t name it, but with a bit of imagination, you can probably guess where it is.
What a fucking mistake that was.
The first year was fine, despite the bad rep the place had. Then, all of a sudden, violence. And lots of it.
Some random teens decided to throw bottles at me while walking home from work – I told them to fuck off, about seven of them jumped off a wall and made out they were gonna kill me, without actually doing it of course. All in front of one of their parents, who ignored it all (couldn’t have been more then three feet away) while he worked on his car.
A few months later, I went out the house and one of the little shits spotted me while in his little group of shits. That was that.
Despite just having a baby, every fucking night for three solid years – and I *MEAN* every. single. night….there would be items hurled at the house, at the window, abuse in the street. Didn’t matter what day it was, something would happen. Christmas eve, xmas day, new years, birthdays, deaths, weddings…..whatever. It was insane. I lost count of the amount of times we called the police….hundreds, hundreds of times. regular line, 999, you name it, i tried it. we contacted the council, the police, the papers, the fucking politicians and those ^&$%^& at the housing (who were responsible for drafting in these waves of scum from other useless areas in a merry-go-round of completely insane “families”)…..not a bit of difference.
The after effects were immediate, as they started to spread their attacks to others living in my street and one just off it.
One night, a guy was literally forced to flee his house, jump in his car and drive to fucking Wales. he never came back, and his brother apparently had to sell his house.
A woman over the road had her windows smashed – when she complained, the little bastards phoned 999 and told them she was holding one of them “hostage” – about ten minutes later, what seemed like three vanfulls of riot police arrived outside her house and wellied their way inside, so I’m told. One guy asked his neighbour to simply reverse his car off his drive so he could get his car out – the reply was a headbutt and a fucking broken nose. Yet another little shit, well known to social services, police, everyone else with about ten asbos to his name, threatened grown men outside a pub with a knife unless they went inside and bought him some stella.
I could go on, but that’s the kind of thing you were dealing with there. I should add, a lot of these kids were as young as ten or eleven, hanging around with a handful of older ones in their late teens.
Anyway.
Haloween was always the worst, mainly because where we were, it used to last about a month.
Each one was worse than the last. the final one, it finally kicked the fuck off.
A bunch of kids went to a neighbours freshly paved driveway, pulled up a few slabs, smashed them on the floor, picked up the chunks of concrete and started hurling them at the fucking windows.
I snapped, ran out, grabbed one of the little shits and dragged him back to the house, screaming down his ears. I’d had enough. I wanted blood.
ANYONES fucking blood.
I made that little shit stand in my garden while the missus phoned the police. Apparently some neighbours in a neighbouring city heard my screaming, so a full contingent of police were deployed and would “arrive shortly”.
Next minute, our wonderful country’s welfare inhabitants are revealed for what they are.
Never mind a baby in the house when these shits were throwing what they were throwing. No, some tracksuited retard comes bouncing out of the house directly opposite mine (found out later he doesn’t even live in the area, just visiting his girlfriend), and starts yelling”WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT LAD? GET OFF HIM! etc etc swear swear”.
I tell him what he did, didn’t matter. Scum look after their own. Within seconds, he’s opening his boot and threatening to get his baseball bat out and “fuck me up”.
I goaded him into doing it – he didn’t, choosing to remain at a safe distance. But I’m already thinking “fuck this shit” when lo and behold, the ratfaced child’s drunken, ugly, booze-sodden grandmother appears in front of me, yelling and screaming and calling me everything under the son. I’ll never forget the next exchange.
I told her there was a baby in the house and they could have killed him if they’d put the window through.
Her reply?”GOOD!”
She then threw a punch at my head, which missed by a country mile while the idiot in the tracksuit continued to prance around by his car. I’d officially entered the twilight zone by this point.
Then the police turned up, and I had to be put in the back of their car and driven to my house as this had started to spill further and further down the street where I ran a greatly increased risk of being stabbed in the face.
I put the place up for sale the next day, got rid of it at a loss and am now paying through the fucking nose for a house while paying a shitload in tax / NI, but I tell myself its worth it to be away from places and people like that, even while being fully aware I’m paying for them to continue their shitty, worthless existence.
If I could, I’d go back and fucking napalm the whole area and nothing of value would be lost.
But I tell you what – that kid I collared was crying his fucking eyes out when I marched him back home, and that alone was worth the price of admission.