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From Encyclopedia Dramatica
A veritable cornucopia of inbred animals, the English are a diverse people made of poverty, filth and scum. Alcohol is the glue that binds English society and makes associating with their cold and arrogant countrymen bearable.
In England, the North is filled with people who work in caves for a living. The South, by contrast, is full of arrogant faggots desperate to be American but too proud of their ostensibly sexy accents to actually move. In many ways this divide mimics that in the United States. They all like their children though, no not that way you Pedo, so some dead baby jokes are a handy way to IRL troll if you don't have enough local knowledge.
Are you ready to embark on a journey full of social rejects, ugly beasts and scum of the Earth? Yes? Then scroll right down, your first attraction in the British Circus of Scum is Liverpool, land of the modern neanderthal and breeding grounds of The Beatles (says a lot).
Liverpool is possibly the last place you would ever want to go, Iraq included. Have you ever came into contact with someone who is just completely grotesque, as well as sounding like an unintelligible retard? Chances are you have met a Scouser. The characteristics of the infamous scouser include:
- Bad Teeth
- Hard to understand
- Eyes that are more porcine than human
- The walking definition of a chav
- The result of failing school
- Belief that they are a professional FIFA player
- Possibly Inbred
- Trying to be threatening, despite pipe-cleaner arms
- Ugly, again
Home to possibly the most annoying accent found in the UK, being slightly worse than Cockneys.
The European Capital of Culture 2008 (WTF?), "Liverpool is diverse, energetic and exciting", but apart from some boats, throwing stones at seagulls, feeling people's muscles, dog-fighting and shooting children there's nothing much to do there.
Every Scouser is aligned to supporting one of the two local football teams. One is full of players who are niggers. The other is full of players who resemble women and a captain whose girlfriend's gender is uncertain.
Fun Facts about Scousers:
- Every Scouser over the age of 60 claims to have known the Beatles personally.
- Every female Scouser over the age of 60 was asked out by Paul McCartney, but said no.
- All Scousers know every other Scouser.
It is also known that they are all thieves, even pick-pocketing their own in a (soccer) football stadium "disaster" when the world was relieved of the burden of 96 of them. They are wound up by "not enough", "96", "you Scouse bastards" (or YSB 96 not enough) (for IRL trolling). This is in spite of the fact that other Liverpool fans caused the crush, they tried to blame the police. Fact - the Hillsborough disaster was the Liverpool fans' fault.
If there's one thing that Liverpudlians love, it's a tragedy. Every time a child gets murdered in Liverpool or a football stadium collapses, they all come out of the woodwork to cry and look sad and say how devastated they are in a citywide circle-jerk of crocodile tears and feigned sympathy for the victims, even if nobody they knew was involved, if they were, in fact, on the complete other side of the city when it happened and if they otherwise have little to no connection with the event at all. They are addicted to grief, but only because they actually get off by grieving.
Liverpool also has something of a problem with gangs. In a modern city, this is perhaps unsurprising, but Liverpool's gangs deserve special mention, mainly because of how retarded their names are. Two of the larger gangs are the 'Crocky Crew' (who sound like someone Donkey Kong would fight) and the 'Nogger Dogs'.
It speaks volumes about the remainder of the UK that out of a population of approximately 60 million, 10 million live in one city.
There are three types of people living in England's capital; Londoners, Cockneys and Niggers. Actually, you could break the nigger group down into Pakis, chinks and white niggers, but you wouldn't get on a bus with any of them, so why bother? The half of London with a job always fears that the junglebunnies will eventually swell their dole-sucking numbers to saturation point, but since most of them are too busy stabbing each other and engaging in typical Nigra pastimes, there's no time left to get the hos pregnant.
London is always full of tourists, being flogged overpriced, tacky shit by Paki street vendors looking to trade of their ignorance.
London was famously pwnt back in 1666 by some retard of a baker setting his house on fire. The Lord Mayor was summoned away from important administrative business to examine the blaze. Seeing the potential for lulz, he remarked "A woman might piss it out" and went back to his faggotry. This was the first time that the population of London realized that building houses out of dry wood and straw almost on top of each other might not be the wisest of ideas, but they didn't figure this out until 75% of the city had been destroyed.
North Londoners will tell you that Kent begins on the south bank of the Thames. It continues down to Dover, which is where foreigners enter Britain to steal our jobs and claim our unemployment benefits when they're between stealing jobs. The Channel Tunnel was completed in 1986 or something and ever since then there have been hordes of Gyppo and Nig-nog scum camped out at Calais in the hope of smuggling themselves aboard a freight lorry and thereby gaining entrance to Her Majesty's realms surreptitiously.
For some reason, the British are meant to give a shit about a bunch of smelly wogs in fucking France like it's our problem rather than Johnny Frog's, and heartbreaking scenes of toothless, wretched scum begging to be allowed into Britain from their plastic-bag tents on French soil are paraded nightly on the TV news. This is a great troll because liberal viewers go "Oh, the humanity!" and fascist viewers go "Kill them all!"
Recently some middle ground between the two camps was found when some bleeding heart faggots used a £1-both-ways Dover to Calais ferry-trip offer in the Daily Mail to run "missions of mercy" to the Gyppos camped out at Calais, thus pissing off everyone and confusing many more.
Also in Kent is Whitstable, epicentre of the great custard shortage of 2009. The locals still speak of little else.
Like London, Essex is also a Cockney domain, although there are slight regional differences between Cockneys from London and Cockneys from Essex that nobody gives a fucking shit about.
Rare footage of an Essexonian Cockney and a London Cockney, arguing the merits of their respective homes.
Of particular special mention is the region-specific phenomenon of the 'Essex girl' - orange-skinned, dumb-as-a-post slags that speak in estuary English, wear white stilettos and bleed collagen when pricked. Many lulz are had at the expense of Essex girls in the UK and many 'dumb blonde' jokes are altered in the country into 'Essex girl' jokes. Essex girls could be considered the Britfag equivalent of the Californian valley girl.
Famous Essex inventions include the 'vajazzle' - a type of body art where sequins are glued to the labia of Essex girls to make pleasing shapes.
- Oi oi! - Traditional greeting.
- Reem - Excellent, of good quality.
- Well Jel - Extremely envious.
- Slag - Woman. Oftentimes, the 'a' in the word is elongated and cried out in a long drone, "Slaaaaaaag."
- Dan in the maff - Melancholic.
- Saffend - Essex coastal resort boasting the longest pleasure pier in the world. Cockneys go here on vacation.
- Sha' up - Cease your prattling, knave.
A misshapen race of orc-like people, specially bred to keep the Scots from scaling Hadrian's wall and invading England, the Geordies are under the mistaken belief that Newcastle is the finest city in the world, just because they happened to be born there.
Considered by some the Britfag equivalent of the guido, in its natural habitat, the Geordie can be found staggering around the streets blind drunk at 11 am, picking fights with random people and shrieking unintelligible bullshit at one another. While such behavior would be acceptable among the Scots, being (nominally) English, the Geordie has no excuse. Like the Glaswegian, you don't have to provoke the Geordie to be threatened with violence. Some claim that Geordies actually bleed alcohol, but this requires furtha resorch.
They are also the ernly city in England tha gives two shits aboot thor failing footie club. The Toon is apparently the ernly city sooth o the Jock border tha the Scots will even acknowledge.
- Hoos it gannin? - A typical Geordie greeting.
- Alreet? - "What's the matter?", "How are you?"
- Why aye, man - A popular noise made by Geordies. Its meaning is unknown and it is likely there isn't a word for it in the tongues of humans.
- Lass - Cumdumpster.
- Tashin' on - Flirting.
- Mortal - Drunk.
- Canny - Good.
- Champion - Extremely good.
- Howay/Howez, man - "I do not approve/believe you."
- Newky Broon - Newcastle Brown Ale, the traditional Geordie beverage of choice, on which all Geordies are weaned.
- Pet - In theory, a Geordie term of affection, though in practice, it is used much like an unofficial bit of punctuation for Geordie speech, and often added to the end of sentences for no apparent reason, pet.
The Geordies really care about the heritage of the local football (soccer) club and many really don't like the current owner, Mike Ashley. Find out what they think about him and disagree with them if you fancy a spot of IRL trolling.
The greatest tragedy to ever befall the city of Newcastle.
wot the fok did ye just say 2 us, man? i dropped out of newcastle primary skool im the sickest bloke ull ever meet & ive nicked ova 300 chocolate globbernaughts frum tha corner shop. im trained in street fitin' & im the strongest foker in tha entire newcastle gym. yer nothin to me but a cheeky lil bellend w/ a fit mum & fakebling. ill waste u and smash a fokin bottle oer yer head bruv, i swer 2 christ. ya think u can fokin run ya gabber at me while sittin on yer arse behind a lil screen? think again wanka. im callin me homeboys rite now preparin for a proper scrap. A roomble thatll make ur nan sore jus hearin about it. yer a waste bruv. me crew be all over tha place & ill beat ya to a proper fokin pulp with me fists wanka. if i aint satisfied w/ that ill borrow me m8s cricket paddle & see if that gets u the fok out o' newcastle ya daft kunt. if ye had seen this bloody fokin mess commin ye might a' kept ya gabber from runnin. but it seems yea stupid lil twat, innit? ima shite fury & ull drown in it m8. ur ina proper mess knob.
Felixstowe is a small to medium to large to small again sized town situated on the south Suffolk coast, England. Felixstowe does not so much have distinguishable individuals, as much as a constant, never ceasing blur of bland and lifeless inhabitants. Once, in the Summer of 1962, someone saw a cat. The town boasts three main educational establishments: Two High Schools (Orwell and Deben, so named after the two steaming rivers of piss that surround the town), and a third, more popular institution: The Arcades. It is here that Felixstowe's Chavish offspring learn the many skills and abilities that will see them through their impending first stay at Her Majesty's Pleasure. However, it is Orwell High School that still continues to defy all attempts to maintain an efficient schooling system in Felixstowe. This is not to say the institution is without its own achievements.
Arguably, one of the greatest students to have ever graduated from this fabled establishment is Mark Lankester, who excelled at chemistry. He is now, of course, a world famous Brain surgeon who in his spare time reads to the deaf, and fosters children from deprived areas such as west Yorkshire (specifically the white rose area). He is also married to world renowned martial arts expert Matthew Parker. Mark was particularly noted for his star crossed partnership with Mr D. J. Travers, who sadly perished in the infamous 'Room G6 Incident". He is now commemorated by a 15ft bronze statue on the Netball courts, which the caretaker was quoted to have said is "A fitting tribute to a truly Heroic Chemist". Science has since been banned throughout Suffolk.
Another student who you may have read about in the tabloids is Alex Wold: Who was controversially voted 111th person you most love to hate in a recent channel 4 poll, mainly due to his love rat antics and general sexual excess (hence the gout). Despite various certificates being issued, and occasional claims of pupils receiving an education at Orwell High school... As of yet, no proof is to be found.
Of all the cities of England, Manchester ranks highest in terms of unwarranted self-importance. However, no one actually wants to live in Manchester owing to the fact that it was recently voted the 17th worst place to live in the UK (pipped to the post by, suprise fucking suprise: Middlesborough).
Home to the Manchester United kickball team, which is worshipped by all 13 year old boys. 95% of Manchester United's fans weren't born in Manchester, and over half of those have never even been to Manchester.
Manchester City fans claim All true Mancuntians support Manchester City, if fact only about 10% of Mancunians support City and they can regularly be found around the Beswick are of the City dragging their knuckles and chucking horse shit at each other.
Manchester is also home to 90% of the world's shittiest bands (including The Smiths, Joy Division and Take That), and back in the late '80s and early '90s had quite a rave scene, 'Madchester', something that all Mancunians who want to appear cool look back on with some nostalgia. Even if they were about two years old at the time.
- Our kid - My good friend.
- Ta - Thank you.
- Butties - The staple of the Mancunian's diet.
- Chips and gravy - Pronounced 'cheps 'n' greyver', this is a fine meal for a Mancunian.
- Mad for it - Up for fun.
- You're twistin' my melon, man - "I am confused by what you have said."
- Mint - Good.
- Sorted - Something that has been solved, completed or otherwise taken care of, although the word is often used as an expression of happiness. It is important to note that a true Mancunian often neglects to pronounce the letter T in this word, likely as a result of the shape of their primitive mouths and unevolved top palates.
Every city in
the North West of England hates Manchester, and believes it has a personal rivalry with it, when in fact, Mancs have absolutely no idea that everyone else hates them, being too busy robbing cars and overgelling their hair.
The Mancunian can be easily distinguised by his ape-like gait and appearance, nasal drawling accent and acting as if he owns the fucking world.
Leicester: Sump of Shite
Leicester is what the government calls "a multicultural hotspot and an educational action zone". This means that it is full of illiterate chavs, teenage mums, Pakis, Kurds, gooks, niggers, Arabs and a handful of nice people.
Even though the council is pouring thousands of pounds into redeveloping the city centre, they are woefully neglectful of teh suburbs, and consequentially the city's 350,000 people are ghettoised.
The poor white people live in Braunstone, Mowmacre Hill and Noo Paaks (New Parks), where you will get knifed. The poor white people who will shoot you live in Beaumont Leys. The rich corrupt Pakis live in Evington. The immigrants (Kurds, Albanians, gooks, Arabs and niggers) live in the St. Matts estate and Spinney Hill. The richer white people live in harmony with Pakis in Stoneygate, Westcotes and Knighton.
The richest, most honest people don't live in Leicester at all.
Though the term wools can also be applied to multiple towns around merseyside which nobody gives a fuck about, it mainly refers to the stupid wankers who populate of St Helens. "Wool" comes from "Woolyback", which any wool will tell you originates from some shite about bridges, but we all know comes from fucking sheep. In St Helens, there is one pub, four houses and a rugby team. The team is extremely successful. But it's Rugby Union, so noone really gives a fuck.
Birmingham (pronounced 'Beer-ming-goom') was a massive industrial center in the past, and as a result, the whole city (and the sky above it) remains a dank shade of grey ALL THE TIME. It is this dreary industrial heritage that inspired four young men from Aston (Black Sabbath) to create heavy metal, the other metal bands you can name (Judas Priest, Napalm Death) come from this town and this is why locals listen / headbang to in the few elevators in the city. Also half of Led Zepplin is from here namely Robert Plant. Birmingham is also home to 'Brum' a weird yellow car that had it's own television series around 100 years ago. It drove round and pissed everyone off.
EMERGENCY UPDATE: Recently Birmingham has been converted to an Islamic Caliphate. If you are not Muslim DO NOT GO HERE. If you are not wearing a head to toe hijab, niqab or burka then you can expect a beating. The plus in this is that the locals are basically as pale as a full moon in August and you could read a book in a dark room with one of them around. With all the extra layers of clothing you won't go blind if they actually get some sunlight.
This is truth:
In a recent nationwide poll, the Brummie accent was voted "least intelligent”, “least friendly” and “most dishonest". Brummies are also more likely than those in any other city in the country to use the Internet for its intended purpose.
- All right? - Hello.
- Ace - Good.
- Dossing about - Wasting time.
- Hard knock - A badass.
- Spanner - Idiot.
- Boff - Fart.
- Deck - To physically attack someone. For example, "Deck 'im, mate!" or "I'm gonna deck you in a minute,"
- Bost - Broken. For example, "I've bost me arm!" or "Our telly's bost."
- Leg it! - Run away
Basically Burmingham is just this side of a landfill, the military was going to use it for training bombing runs but decided that if they were going to spend the ammo they might as well drop it on the real fuck dumps like Wolverhampton and Cannock.
The ancient Coventry city is located just south east of Birmingham, right next to Birmingham's "arsehole" (if you imagine Birmingham is bending over, facing left, and you are viewing her in profile). Coventry just "appeared" on the map in 1043, after a drunken Benedictine monk mistook a cartographers note book for a "scroll" of medieval toilet paper. This is why Coventry is shaped like a smear of shit. Nobody has any explanation as to why it still smells this way, almost 1000 years later. The monk was also married to the legendary Lady Godiva, who is famous locally for bareback horseriding; Englands first recorded beastiality slut.
Coventry has always been hated by the rest of the country, so much so, the phrase "sent to Coventry" has evolved into the national phrase for losing. Coventry was a major target for Nazi espionage. Apparently the Nazi spies were so appalled at Coventry's nightlife and local women, that they decided to implement a final solution ON THE SPOT, radioing home and asking the Luftwaffe to sort things out.
People from Yorkshire are the second most stereotyped people in England, ask someone to imagine an English person and they'll either imagine someone from Somerset or Yorkshire. They open their vowels more than anyone else so that many sentences begun in the late afternoon have to be finished the next day. They live on Tetley's beer and Yorkshire puddings and all wear tweed, barber jackets and flat caps.
A charming and handsome Yorkshireman.
A hard-nosed Yorkshire businessman.
Promotional video for Yorkshire Airlines.
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Yorkshiremen claim to have hard lives and do very hard work (hence the popular expression, "Eeh, it's grim up North,") but nevertheless are immensely proud of being from the godforsaken collection of blasted heaths, featureless moors and stinking marshland that they call home and claim to be very happy with their lot. However, it is worth noting for a people so apparently happy with their lot, they do seem to spend a disproportionate amount of time bitching about it.
- Ey oop, me ducks - Wassup, my niggas?
- Aye - Yes.
- 'Appen - Probably.
- Boozer - A tavern or drinking establishment.
- Thee/Thy/Thou - For some reason, Yorkshiremen are very found of using these antiquated terms in place of the more modern 'you' and 'your'. It is uncertain as to why this is the case; it may be an attempt at trying to sound cultured, or it may simply be because they are so culturally backwards that they still talk as if they're in the Elizabethan era.
- Eeh, bah gum - Oh my God. Some claim that Yorkshiremen came up with this phrase by saying the surname of Robert Mugabe, the president of Zimbabwe backwards.
- Cack-handed - Clumsy.
- Black as t'ace o' spades - Dirty.
- Ecky thump - An expression of woe or dread, somewhat akin to "Ah, fuck"
- T' - The word 'the' has never really reached the wilds of Yorkshire and your average Yorkshireman has only the vaguest knowledge of it. Indeed,
mostall Yorkshiremen do away with the last two letters of the word, and then hurriedly staple the orphaned letter T onto other words, as seen in such popular Yorkshire phrases as "Are you comin' down t'boozer?" "Trouble at t'mill," "Get on t'Internet," and "Have you put t'corpse under t'patio?"
- Faffing about - Wasting time with pointless faggotry.
- Summat - Something.
- Where there's muck, there's brass. - A popular Yorkshire expression which means that there is a lot of money to be made provided that one is prepared to do undesirable work.
- More brass than sense. - A rich twat.
- 'Appy as a pig in muck - Extremely pleased.
- Shit wi' sugar on - What Yorkshiremen actually believe that anyone from outside of Yorkshire eats.
- Guff - Fart.
- Eeh, I'll tell yer right now, you're on a Scarborough warning. You'll get a good braying, you. - What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo..
The best thing Yorkshire has invented is rat-catching competitions for their precious Yorkshire Terriers, although some argue that weasel-baiting - a popular blood sport wherein numerous live, angry and frequently very hungry weasels are released up the trouser legs of a Yorkshireman who then has to thrash around and attempt to kill the weasels before they dine handsomely on his testicles - comes a close second.
Home to the greatest number of failbook users in the UK and with over 9000 Greggs pie and pasty shops, one of which is 24x7, Sunderland is without doubt the jewel in the bucket of shite that is England. Everyone and everything from there is made of 100% pure fail.
Famously apathetic and unemployable, the chavvy detritus shamble and shuffle around the laughably poor shopping centre in some kind of a grotesque re-enactment of Dawn of the Dead, searching for export strength lager, cheap tracksuits, human brains, shiny gold looking chains and methadone.
IRL trolling tip: just say how good Newcastle is, failing that refer to them as "Sad Mackem Bastards" or praise their Geordie accent (srsly)
A very poor man's Sunderland, Goole is located in "East Riding of Yorkshire", and it's residents are referred to (by themselves, with no trace of irony), as "Goolies" (Not to be confused with "Goodies" the popular 1970s TV comedy team). Geographically, Goole is located near England's North-East coast, within Britain's "armpit".
According to TOW, "Goole achieved notoriety in 2000 for having the highest proportion of drug-related deaths in Britain - 13 times the national average. Although only 2 per cent of the population of the county lives there, the town is home to 12 per cent of the region's heroin users." Due to the lack of ANY education system in Goole (or indeed, up North), it is said that the only successful way out of Goole, is to kill yourself with drugs, and hope that the coroner takes your body to a nicer town, 200 miles away.
Nobody outside of Goole has EVAR heard of Goole. This is helped by the fact that Goolies have no internets, electricity, or even gas lamps. A bit liek M.Night.Shamalalalaians "The Village".
The chief hobbies in Sheffield are drinking, fighting, drinking, stealing cars, drinking and prostitution. The worst council estate there(The Manor) is full of fine young gentlemen and fashioned in a figure of eight, perfect for joyriding.
Sheffield used to be an industrial town famous for steel. Now it's famous for its inhabitants that steal. The people are very friendly, especially around a place round the back of west street where a variety of people will strike up a conversation with you in the most friendly manner, even if they have never met you before. Typical talking points will be the solicitation of a womans company, or whether you would care to purchase any rare spices. Sheffield was also the country that came out on top in a public vote on whether marijuana should be legalised, scoring an impressive 73%. I even smoke it round me grans.
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