A trashy community in the middle of nowhere. A welfare village in Louisiana.
When coming upon Ghettoville, I always speed in case i break down, as to coast on past it.
A city (usually small) where most of the population is made of ghetto people, but nobody realizes that they are ghetto. All of the women's clothes are five sizes too small and the men's clothes are five sizes too big. Everyone's car is the most badass car in their minds, when in reality they possess one of the crappiest cars around (usually a bunch of cars covered in fake decals and with really loud mufflers on a 4 cylinder). There are also special events that occur only once or twice a year where all of the ghettos come out from under their rocks and out of their hiding places to get drunk, dance, start fights, and hook up with each other.
Bob: Hey Jerry, remember when we lived in Ghettoville?
Jerry: Yeah, that place sucked with all of the ghettos crawling around. Especially since it turned into the Palm Beach International Raceway's Drag Strip every time I pulled up to a stoplight.
Bob: Yup, those were the days. And the fiestas were always the worst times of the year when the 300 pound girls would all come out in their tightest tube tops, fake eyebrows, and g-strings pulled up to their necks, and all of the guys in their XXXX-Large polos, 59Fifty hats, and Plymouth Neons with tinted windows, Daytons
, three 12-inch subwoofers in the trunk, and a Raiders
decal in every window.
Jerry: Yep...Ghettoville was the shit...
Ghettoville...where the wiggers and wannabes be chillin fo sho