Half of that went over my head, but I did grow up in the early 90s (Otis the Aardvark should *never* have been replaced with Emlyn the Gremlin), in nothing less than the terraced housing a mere 200 yards from council estates; what would you expect? 'Lovely', 'sweet' and 'sophisticated' are words I would no sooner associate with getting people drunk mischievously than a five mile cross country jog with Hudson's skanky eyes mentally devouring my rear, but you're right.
My desire for synonyms must not be allowed to continue overwhelming the need for appropriateness.
I remain yours to be watched,
Max
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