Trying to work out what they are saying as they are gobbing/lisping/dribbling/stuttering all over you. The nasal whine that grates more than nails down a chalkboard. Fat tongued mongs whose think the inability to enunciate their completely insane and immoral policies is some form of disability, instead of the hallmark of the small-minded, spiteful, stupid cunt it actually is. What really pisses me off is the idea they should be immune from criticism because they are mild spazzers, yet continue to insist that they know better than me how to spend my money.
Woy Jenkins, Woy Hattersley, Ed Balls, Ed Milliband, Anuerin Bevan. At least Bevan’s mother chose a name other than Ed or Woy, even though she must have been either pissed or had a speech impediment herself and the registrar couldn’t understand what she was saying when choosing his name, so wrote down a random sequence of vowels and an anagram of urine. Not surprising given that she was Welsh, which is an impediment in itself.
Nominated by: Termujin
Wot no comments? The cunt is a cunt of epic proportions. I’ve started the fray, any witty rejoinders…
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Sorry I can’t be very witty ‘cos I’m just a working class gel with an itchy cunt wot works in Tesco. Wot I can say is that all them lithping labour cunt woul do well to have a big black African cock shoved up their collective rectum and a good punch in the cunt. A good punch in the cunt never done no one no harm.
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Tescos in Aussie. Surely some mistake? Now if you said Aldis…..
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Yes Flaxen Saxon you got me there. In me defence I will say that it won’t be long before I’m back in London for work. But I really don’t see that any of what you said has got much to do with my itchy cunt – I could probably do with a good cunting meself as well as that good punch in the cunt!
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Creepy Spassy peado loving Marxist fuckwits to a man. Cunts
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