Chavtastic

The aforementioned cousin's husband (does that make him a cousin-in-law? I am thinking probably not) is a top drawer chav. Lovable, funny but nevertheless a chav.

He drives a very shiny, very red sports BMW and has lots of gadgets that fall off the back of some very careless lorries, a lot.
There is some sparkly diamond earring and gold chain wearing amongst other things but he is a legend in a shiny tracksuit. His son (second cousin?) is 17. He is of the Burberry cap, tracksuit tucked into white socks and trainers variety. He can't make eye contact with anyone but fair play to even turning up to a BBQ where the minimum age is 30 and the maximum is 76.

His Dad bought him a big exhaust for his boy racer car for his 17th as an incentive to pass his test. This is the very exhaust that set off a car alarm just from driving past it further up our street. I think some tea came out of a few neighbours' noses.

Whilst I don't have any other chav mates or relatives, these chav's are all mine AND I am related to them...which I love because it somehow makes chavness OK.