CHAV – The word is bandied about in the press on an almost daily basis but does anyone really understand the meaning of the word? It’s not all Burberry and cheap larger. So here, as a public service, the Rhondda Rover looks at this species known as THE CHAV.

Chav (idioticus dickheadicus) is something of a modern phenomenon and evolved in the early years of the millenium. It seems that millions of years have taken the human being from ape to chav. A natural progresion that will eventually see us coming full circle and once again becoming simians.

The Chav, both male and female, are easily identified by their bizarre dress sense and lack of any grace whatsoever.

The Chav spends most of its time hanging around city centres where it partakes in the strange custom of bothering members of the public. They tend to scrounge cigarettes of passer’s by and the bolder ones will often ask for money for a coffee which usually means drugs. They take taxi cabs and then run after telling the driver to, F***K O**.

The Chav talks in a strange rap like fashion and uses words like awesome, wicked, well ard and sweet. On giro day the chav will hit the town and buy a three litre bottle of White Lightning and ten Lambert.  And get absolutely slaughtered. Chav’s often hang around shops like Cash Generator where they can sell or buy bling and stuff.

The Chav likes to inhale lighter fluid as, “Gives a good fucking Buzz, man!”

There are also middle aged Chavs – this one is sitting on the stairs waiting for the giro to come through the door. In his sparetime it likes to play xylaphone by taking its shirt off.

The chav likes to pour vodka or Stella into its girlfriend’s vagina and then slurp it out – They call this custom, MINGE DRINKING.

For protection during sex chavs usually use a bus shelter.

A chav in a white shell suit is probably the bride.

A chav in a suit is called the accused.

A Chav in a nice house is known as a burglar.

Two Chavs in a car without any music usually means the police are driving.

Chav’s are expert shoplifters and often hang around bus and train stations selling cheap purfume from Woolworth’s or CD’s with security stickers still attached.

So that’s the Chav – next time we take a look at the issue of obesity. This is an highly sensative issue and we will treat it with respect in our next post entitled, Those Fat Bastards.


The following entry was told to me by a very good friend, a man who didn’t want to obstruct the public highway with a massive sofa and two chairs.


I needed a large three piece removed from my property and so I telephoned the RCT collection people and they arranged to pick it up this morning between 7.30 am and 4pm. I left the items leaning up against the front wall, as I didn’t want to put them in the street as that would cause an obstruction to anyone trying to cross, forcing passers-by to walk onto the road. Surely, I thought, this is the responsible thing to do – after all obstructing the pavement must be wrong. Plus a sofa and two chairs in the middle of the pavement would attract the Chavs and the next thing you’d know is the items would be in the middle of the road or used, as an alternative to bush shelters,  to create more Chavs to drain the public purse. There’s a big time scale between early morning and late afternoon – a three piece in the street for all that time!


Not good enough for RCT and collectors drove straight past.

Promptly THE RHONDDA ROVER telephoned them and they said their ever so fragile workers are not allowed to collect from gardens in case they injure themselves. Which makes no logical sense since gardens are nice soft grass and the public highway, which they advise obstructing, is hard nasty pavement. Of course there is always the possibility that there was a new type of corrosive grass and sharp bushes in my friends garden.

Makes me wonder why I pay the council tax – mind you, I always wonder that especially when I see the published councillors expense list.

My mate can’t be arsed to deal with this nonsense and instead he will burn the sofa this evening, spewing chemicals into the air.


June 24, 2008

Not RCT related but couldn’t let this pass without a little tribute:


George Denis Patrick Carlin (born May 12, 1937) is a Grammy-winning American stand-up comedian, actor, and author.

Carlin is especially noted for his political and black humor and his observations on language, psychology, and religion along with many taboo subjects. Carlin and his “Seven Dirty Words” comedy routine were central to the 1978 U.S. Supreme Court case F.C.C. v. Pacifica Foundation, in which a narrow 5-4 decision by the justices affirmed the government’s right to regulate Carlin’s act on the public airwaves. This resulted in the comedian being thrown into prison.

George Carlin’s most recent stand up routines are primarily focused on attacking the flaws in modern-day America. He often takes on contemporary political issues in the United States and satirizes the excesses of American culture. His use of the language falls nothing short of true genius and his finger has always been more on the pulse than comedians half his age.

Just type in  -Seven Words you can’t say on television –  into you tube and you’ll get to see the legendary seven words routine.

He is considered by many to be a successor to the late Lenny Bruce and was described by Comedy Central as the second greatest stand-up comedian of all time behind Richard Pryor, and right before Lenny Bruce. He was also the first person to host Saturday Night Live.


He will be missed …a comedian equal to the late great Bill Hicks.

A funny man died today – a truly funny man and one that wasn’t afraid to push the boundaries in his comedy which is something many comedians could learn from. In fact I’ve been learning the seven words routine to put it into my own act (why not? – singers do cover versions so why not comedians!!!) and it’s difficult to carry off and demands the performer perfects a certain rhythm or it sounds ridiculous. Carling was a true genius.

One of the most common comments about this blog is that I have not identified myself and therefore

should not be taken seriously.

Well okay I’m publishing a picture of myself here at my computer so you can put a face to the words.

This is me after an hard day at work – I’m a personal fitness instructor – and I’m working hard here at keeping my readership informed on the latest happenings in RCT.

After we reported on the council threat to strike two days ago, Tonight’s South Wales Echo has it as its headline story. Remember you heard it here first.

Last week I was watching TV and there was a documentary about the Welsh and someone said that as a nation we hate the English.

This is not trut but it does remind me of a story we were told at school:

Owen the first ever Welsh man stood at the top of a mountain and got to speak to the lord. He looked out at the wonderful Welsh landscape – the hills, the lakes, rivers, mountain, attractive sheep and the A470 and he say’s, ‘Lord you must love the Welsh. For you have made us so fortunate with this place which is truly Heaven on Earth.’

And the Lord says: ‘I’ve not been generous with the Welsh. This land may be truly wonderous but wait till you meet your neighbours.’

was a great success. So much so that it will now be an annual event designed to give gay senior citizens a place to meet likeminded people.

‘There wasn’t so much of a gay movement in my day,’ said Betty Tasker, association president, ‘ But you’ve got to keep up with  the modern trends. And these days I get as much minge as is possible.’

The night went in a great fashion with a themed gay meal – jumbo sausages and pink wine followed by fairy cakes and afterwards there was a concert from a Village People tribute band.

‘The cowboy looked well hunky.’ Said General Clive Smith, 94 of Thomastown. ‘ I wouldn’t kick him out of my sleepeasy bed.’

Many new relationships were formed at the meeting and Jim Jenkins, 81,treasurer said, ‘We are so looking forward to our first civil ceremony when two of our members get married in August. Edith Hawkings, a widow from Trebanog will wed Emily Tanner after the pair met at bingo last weekend and had their first kiss at the gay and lesbian night.’

A resuscitation team were on standby for the entire event but were not needed. Except for one small incident where a pair of loose dentures caused a minor penile injury.

The prospect of a summer of discontent over tea breaks will hinge on the result of a strike ballot among hundreds of thousands of council workers.

Members of Unison have been voting on whether to launch a campaign of industrial action after rejecting a 4% tea break offer.

Good job they are not on performance related going home for a kippay otherwise the offer would have been something like -2.45%.

More than 800,000 council workers, ranging from school dinner ladies and classroom assistants to architects and refuse collectors and quango managers in England, Wales and Northern Ireland, are involved in the dispute.

The union will have to give seven days’ notice (but send the letter second class)  of strike action if there is a Yes vote.

Industrial action is likely to involve strikes of more than two days as part of a “sustained campaign”.

Employers have made it clear the 4% tea break is the final offer and have warned that jobs and services will be affected if the offer is increased.

Unison members in Scotland are also voting on industrial action in a separate dispute over pay.

The Rhondda Rover has an idea but alas it is one that will not be implemented – why not cap the councillors wild expenses and use some of that to pay the workers and extend the poor dears tea breaks. Too simplistic, I know, but it would be a damn good thing. The thing is when we see these council road workers sleeping and drinking tea at the side of the road, while their temporary traffic lights are stuck on red both sides, will we know if they are just resting as usual or on strike? And will this strike include traffic wardens? If so then please please strike away.

Stardust Bingo is to close after operating in Pontypridd for almost three decades. The management blamed the health nazis and the smoking ban which is heavily hitting clubs, pubs and bingo halls across the country.  Ironic that the government are saying the smoking ban is an huge success with more and more people giving up – course we know its bollocks.

Star Trek’s Mr Sulu tied the knot in a gay marriage ceremony this week to ex-Pontypridd resident Rees Davies. The ceremony took place in California and was enjoyed by all the guests attending. Afterwards they beamed up for an evening of passion and motorcycle maintenance.

Pontypridd is about to be invaded by trolls, orcs, vampires and geeks without girlfriends when the University hosts a SF, Horror and Fantasy convention. So folks if you think there’s more goths around than usual then you know why.

Visit Tescos and spend a weeks wages on groceries, clothes and magazines and you come away with hordes of plastic bags. These then end up in the bin and then onto landfill where they take forever to break down, all the while releasing chemicals into the environment.

UK shoppers use two million tons of plastic packaging – that’s like 33kg per person. We use 20% more than we did only ten years ago. The thing is plastic comes from oil and now that we are facing the very real possibility of seeing petrol at £5 a gallon -are we soon going to see the 100000.0000 carrier bag?

Below: A scrap on Ponty train station


Had you there, didn’t I – go on admit it, you thought is was the Glyncers versus the Rhyd-heads.

Kebab Capital

June 12, 2008

Apparently Rhondda Cynon Taff is the irregular bowel capital of the UK according to a survey carried out for the tenth annual gut week. Apparantly 52 per cent of people in RCT reported haphazard digestion. Some even claimed that kebabs they had eaten tended to hang around for days before emerging from the colon looking rather more edible than they had when they went in.

DR Anon, well know expert in talking shit said, ‘The body sends a warning when something is awry. Most people take their bowel movements for granted but anything odd should be reported to a doctor.’

I wonder what he means by odd? I remember thinking I had worms only to discover my girlfriend had been flossing and then tossing them down the bog. And my bung hole tenses whenever anyone mentions John Barrowman.


Below a picture of beauty but I’m not going to tell where in RCT it is?

Judging by the comments left on the last post it seems I’ve upset a lot of rabid Rhydian fans. Good job I didn’t get started on Des O’conner. And yep I will accept that Rhydian has a lot of fans but then so too does the BBC’s My Family…doesn’t make it good.


 Bad music.


But I won’t accept that I have no pride in Pontypridd. I love the town and it is because of this love that I moan about it so much. I talk to people day in day out and no-one’s happy with the traffic, the shoplifting,the decline of a once stunning market, the violence on weekend nights. Pontypridd should be so much more than it is…and it can be again. One day – but only if things change and the pedestrianisation is a bad thing that will have the effect of finally killing the town. Look at Tonypandy, look at Porth. All this situation is doing is making it easier to shop out of town. Pontypridd is not Cardiff – it is a brilliant valleys town and let’s hope the proposed developments bring it back to its former glory.


There is much about Ponty to love – the people, some of the stunning buildings, the wonderful countryside and the brilliant Muni, the museum, the market (even if it is failing) but most of all the people. Despite its problems Pontypridd is a wonderful place. I love it and will never move away.



Taff Street is at its busiest after 4pm when the pedestrianisation ends till eleven the next morning. Seemingly at once the street fills with cars and people rush into the shops. Is there one single business in town that is happy with the pedestrianisation? Let me know and I’ll eat humble pie