|This article or section may be Overly British. Americans may not understand humour, only humor. Canadians and Australians may not understand anything at all. Don't change a thing to remedy this.|
|Motto: domus pro vetus populus (Home for Old People)|
|Civic anthem: God save the King|
|State||Hampshire (middle of)|
|Official nickname||Nursing Home|
|Official language(s)||Chav, Queen's English|
|Mayor||Dame Richard Branson|
|Re-Re-Established||Hopefuly Never Again|
|Currency||Photos from the War, charity mugger leaflets|
|Opening hours||6:00am Monday - Friday|
Winchester is the county town of Hampshire, in South East England. It lies at the heart of the wider City of Winchester, a local government district, and is located at the western end of the South Downs, along the course of the River Itchen.[I am not kidding] At the time of the 2001 Census, Winchester had a population of 41,420.[Bullshit!]
Archaically known as Winton, Winchester is a historic cathedral city and the ancient Orc capital of Wessex and the Kingdom of England. It developed from the Roman town of Venta Belgarum, although Christ knows why as its potential for being a complete dump and yuppie scum town was evident even then. After that, there were a few attempts to liven it up a bit, including a royal patronage by Charles II, but then he came to his senses after a eight month crack binge to find he'd built a castle there that he didn't want. The shock and despair caused a brain implosion, and Winchester was still a shit palce to live.
Winchester was once a small town, residing in the buttcrack of society. Residents lived and played together in harmony. This was Winchester until 2nd November 1886. This was the day when the almighty battle between god and satan took place in Winchester highstreet, y'know, right by Waterstones. The battle all began when satan was walking back from doing his weekly shop at Waitrose (Yes, Waitrose... But this is satan...) when god came running down the road and accused satan of being gay. God (being well known for his homophobic comments) took no shame in letting satan know how gay he looked in his skinny jeans and boxer shorts that stuck out the top. This enraged satan and they had this mega battle of death where in the end satan got bored and went back to hell (Where Richard Dawkins was waiting for his massage). God sent down chavs to punish the people of Winchester for not helping him out, and he even set up a base camp, named Winnall. Winchester has never been the same again. I should know, I'm satan.
edit Law and Order
The thing about law and order in Winchester is that there ceases to be any. Criminals that are punished are either put in an old people's home for a day, forced to look around the cathedral, burned alive or covered in pound coins and made to walk past all the 4000 tramps sitting in the High Street (redefining capital punishment).
The latter punishment is considered to be the worse and serves as a way to ensure no-one ever reoffends, . Citizens become angry on occasion and go on mass killing sprees, running over small dogs with electric wheelchairs and hitting tourists and other citizens with their walking sticks.
edit The Winchester Police Force
Winchester has a very high crime rate, however this is usually not dealt with since PC ████████ (the shopsafe officer)as he is usually chatting up the hot girls in the Jack Wills shop in the High Street.
The Chavs who converge on Winchester City centre daily from Winall and Stanmore pose a threat to the Constabulary but are dealt with immediately by removing their Pit Bull Terriers and taking them home to their mums (at which point they burst into tears).
In 2006 a police officer was relieved from duty after helping an old lady check her balance outside a bank by pushing her over. A similar incident in 2009 saw an officer relieved of duty while attending to a sad woman in a shop who asked to be consoled, and the officer hit her over the head with a Nintendo Wii,
The five Police motorised wheelchairs (with blue strobes and police markings) are out of action until further notice as they are currently getting their batteries recharged and the baskets on the front rewired.
The Winchester police make the LAPD and the NYPD look like rank amatuers...at avoiding work and ignoring crime.
King's School is a secondary school comprising of the socially retarded and mentally empty young academics in Winchester. Not as snobby as Winchester College and five times as chavvy as Henry Beaufort, its long decline is associated with the departure of the headmaster known as Bradders (aka, Il Duce). Job done. Their school uniform consists of a burberry cap, some jogging bottoms and a pair of Reebok trainers. Chavs (originally spawned in Stanmore) in the making are farmed here and then sold out into the criminal underworld for a lucrative career in benefit fraud and baby farming, especially among the Chavus Singleteenparent species. It is rumoured the school was temporarily destroyed during a the filming of Die Hard.
Winchester College is (legen...wait for it....) the oldest continuously running school in the country, highly regarded for churning out boys who think that someone will wipe their asses for the rest of their lives. All students are trained in one of the armed forces through an internal cadet scheme (where their mummies pull the triggers for them and their servants polish their boots). They are Winchester's 3rd line of defence in a military situation. The citizens of Winchester may as well kiss the city goodbye today - the boys will be too busy doing their makeup and sipping Earl Grey tea to notice the enemy coming. DARY
Henry Beaufort School is not actually in Winchester, but in fact in Harestock- aka Chavland. Although people think that Kings' contains society's.... lower classes, Henry Beaufort really scrapes the bottom of the barrel. Most of the students do not deserve to live- except the awesome ones, because well, they're just awesome. A recent interview with a pupil revealed that Chuck Norris himself built the school, as a warning to anyone who crossed him. Apparently the children of non-believers will be sent there to die.
In winchester, when a poor child comes of age, they have to choose between being a Farmer, at Sparsholt Trainee Farmer Facility, or a posh git, at Peter Symonds, for the people who are just too good for the agricultural industry.
Peter Symonds College
This college is for the posher Chavs of the society. Peter Symonds is well known as the college for those poshys who cannot afford to be privately educated. Symonds itself runs 5 courses, A-Level Clay Pigeon Shooting, Money Management, BTEC First in Juggling, AS Level Beard Trimming and Wizardry. Symonds is located on 500 acres of land, with approximately 26 buildings. There are seven 5-Star restaurants, a luxury spa and a novelty hat store. Symonds students tend to be the rejects of society, with various freaks and deformed losers. Having previously schooled Bruce Forsythe, Adolf Hitler, Batman (person), and Oscar Wilde, it really does back up this point.
Peter Symonds is owned by previous KFC colonel, Neil Hopkins. Not only was he elected by the indian government, but he was also self nominated for the headmaster roll. Colonel Hopkins was also elected for President of the USA. Unfortunatly, he turned this down, after seeing his presidential potrait showed a booger in his nose. He never took part in USA politics again. From his downfall of this, colonel hopkins then went on to buying a posh college in winchester, originally called Peter Shitmonds. After taking this college from a low level scrap of nothing, to one of the most sucsessful colleges in winchester, colonel hopkins then decided to rename the college Peter Symonds College, named after Richard Simmons. Unfortuanly Colonel Hopkins is a bit dyslexic, and thus this is how we know the college today.
Sparsholt Trainee Farmer Facility
For farmers. In training. Sparsholt is the heart of the agricultural industry in winchester, and now owns over 2 tractors, and a rake. School uniform of the collge is compulsary wellington boots, and a farmers cap, slightly doffed to the left. Sparsholt offers a variety of courses, including the following:
- Tractor Maintanance
- Farming AS & A2
- "Get off my land" - an introduction to dealing with those pesky kids
- Rake Duels at BTEC level
- Manure and how to make your own
- How hitler affected the agricultural economy
- Wellington Boots and how wearing them protects your feet from crap and saves you from lightning strikes.
Sparsholt now has around 20 students and 300 teachers. It is owned by Mad Dog Davitt of tadley, and also a joint business deal with colonel Hopkins of Peter Symonds.
University of Winchester
A former teaching college turned university, the majority of students are [[women]. Many male students have been quoted as saying the only thing the university has going for itself is the girls.
Winchester School of Arts
Owned by the University of Southampton, it was built in Winchester as no other place would have it. Not even Southampton.
Take a cannabis crop, some students and some artwork. Add them all together and you get a stoned artistic loon: Also known as a Winchester Art Student.
Famous Winchester School of Art students include Nick Jago, former drummer of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club...and, erm, thats it. And, to be fair, that's not even really THAT famous.
Jon King's University of Modern Business
He can set you up for life. Jon king, a former pupil of Peter Symonds College, and Colonel Hopkin's most loyal customer founded the college back in 1823. The original college was built using solid gold bricks, bought using Jon Kings personal fortune, until Chavs from Sparsholt broke in, at 3am, and stole the bricks. Police suspect Bill Gates and Warren Buffett, but never actually got round to investigating. The college has one course, led by Jon King himself. King quoted that there are no fail grades, but so far, the university has not passed a single member.
Theatre Royal Winchester
Due to the recent decision to turn Winchester into a large nursing home, the theatre took the opportunity to remove all seats to make place for 170 wheelchairs in the stalls. According to the terms of their license, wheelchair users must be accompanied during a performance. As everyone is either in a wheelchair or has a zimmer frame, none of the citizens of Winchester can go to the theatre as suitable companions are non-existent. When companions can be found, snogging on the back row is commonplace and false teeth litter the floors. The excitement of this gum-to-gum contact causes many to overfill their incontinence pads. Which serves as entertainment for all.
Although Winchester has many pretentions of being a cultured place, it in fact doesn't have all that much going for it in the way of culture. It's main claim to fame is that famous author Jane Austen is buried in the Cathedral. However, this is hardly something to be proud of as Ms. Austen and her novels more or less invented all of those really bloody annoying romantic cliches that give women totally unreasonable and unrealistic expectations of men that have been fucking everything up for men all over the world ever since.
Winchester used to be the capital of Britain, but when everyone realised that there wasn't much going for it a competition was held to find a repalcement. London was the winner after its representative made the spokespeople for everywhere else mysteriously disappear. Winchester has for ever since been just another insignificant city and later a yuppie commuter belt satellite town with too many mobile phone shops and franchise coffee outlets.
The music scene in Winchester is frankly quite poor, with few decent live music venues and an incredible number of identikit indie landfill/pseudo goth/emo/punk/metal and industrial bands who all seem to like the same dull and overused music. A few brave souls try to break this trend, but struggle to get anywhere.
Winchester (probably) has the highest concentration of yuppies and contempt worthy rich scumbags outside of the affluent parts of London, Bristol and Manchester. The fact that they live in lovely townhouses with triple barreled names and massive trust funds just makes them even more hateable, the wankers.
There isn't much in the way of night life in Winchester, and the chances are that if you do brave one of the pubs or night clubs, you will get shanked or framed for a crime you didn't commit which will consequently force you to be a soldier of fortune in The 'A' Team. The Railway Inn is alright, though, if you like that sort of thing.
The Oxfam Book and Music shop is the only decent shop in the whole town. Cheap books, DVD's, computer games, CD's and vinyl records can all be purchased from this fine establishment (if you can find it). If you don't want to get ripped off for a book, its there or the Cathedral book shop. You have been warned.
Oh, actually there's bingo.
Oh yeah, and hanging with the hobos who sleep in the station subway.
In London, one hour away from Winchester by train, it is possible to meet people under the age of 90 and you can also travel to Paris via the Channel Tunnel (which is still too close to Winchester) or pick up links to Heathrow or Gatwick Airport to travel anywhere in the world.
The buses in Winchester run regularly and, if you are unlucky enough to get onboard, they resemble the Help the Aged community buses. The company relies on public donations to keep the buses running as they make no money from fares because everyone in Winchester has either a OAP pass or a Disabled Pass. If you're lucky, you might even get a driver who doesn't look like they will pull a gun on you because you are udner the age of 65 and therefore a threat to society. Many of the bus drivers don't even bother to stop if you look under 72, and often don't bother to turn up at all, except on Market Day.