Many many years ago we had a load of itinerant scousers down here working on the Channel Tunnel. One night a few of us were in The Swan pub and someone happened to mention a mutual acquaintance who had done really well for himself. This chap had left school with no qualifications, no apparent skills or talent, but started off with an old barrow collecting scrap metal. Within a couple of years he had passed his driving test and bought an old Transit van.
When he had saved enough he paid the deposit on a fairly run down bungalow and did the entire renovations himself: bricklaying, plastering, all the electrics, etc. He made a monumental profit when he sold his bungalow and he moved on to bigger and better things. The guy is now a millionaire and owns property all over Kent.
We were discussing this one night, and we were all full of praise for the man. "Fair play. He's grafted all his life." That sort of thing.
One of the scousers happened to overhear us praising this enterprising, hard-working guy, and he called out: "Yeah? But I'll bet I could take his fucking eyes out with me knife!"
It showed the mentality of the man.