East 17, made famous by a bunch of inbred warbling chavs and their souped up Renault Clios in the Nineties, is a delightful place to visit if you either want a hair weave or a knife through the ankle.
“Walthamstow, it’s our pride and joy, drop into the Afro Caribbean wig shop, you’ll find one every fifteen yards, how about somewhere to eat? Afro Caribbean cuisine is everywhere, you’ve got places selling spiced up offal every ten yards and fried chicken shops every two yards. The streets are filled with joy and happiness, mainly because of the crack and ganja available at every corner, and the booze and betting shops; but if you’re a ‘Fed’ as the local patwa likes to describe the constabulary, you won’t be so welcome,” a local tour guide revealed before being shot through the lung by a yardie.
