"How has this fleapit of south-eastern chavdom escaped mention thus far? The town’s per capita average weight of fake gold likely outweighs most Zurich banks, while the number of sportswear-clad pikeys exhibiting naff tattoos, spiky but balding hair, lardy girlfriends and parents with the combined IQ of a retarded housefly seems to increase massively every week.
It is impossible to describe the increasing chav culture of the town unless you live there. Visit any pub after 10pm on a weekend night and you invite the permanent imprint of a chip-infested sovereign ring upon your chin.
Moreover, the short-skirt brigade of chavgirls, in their 26ft-diameter plastic white earrings fail to appreciate that cellulite and belly fat will be their lot once their first baby pops out at 15. Well done Gravesend Chavs, the world laughs at you in your hovels, your souped-up Ford Capris and the nightly kicking you take form your chav dad every Friday night."