Daily Archives: October 6, 2015

Robert Peston [4]

Posted on by

p02lmg00

This smug bizarrely annunciating pain in the gonads has been riding the BBC gravy train for years. The egocentric economics commentator cunt is currently stamping his little piggy trotters trying to hissy fit his employers in to paying him loads more moolah (a very good reason not to pay the licence fee) and threatening to take his talents elsewhere. Well fuck orf Peston I say and let us take a look at what the cunt has to offer.

The ugly tosser’s ego is legendary and precisely complemented by a scruffy and poorly dyed barnet. His mangling orf the Queen’s English is a crime against humanity so naturally the BBC PC Brigade has the cunt popping up all over the place. Had an ancient 2CV on the farm that would stutter to a halt like that in the rain then suddenly shoot forward full power without warning. Got £40 scrap for it. Peston’s manufactured pauses and strangulated vowels are the egocunt’s attempts to mask the simple fact that he does not know what the fuck he is talking about.

Pay the man another £Mill a year.

Nominated by: Sir Limply Stoke

Dozey WAGs

Posted on by

hqdefault

I’d like to nominate ‘female cuntishness’ or more accurately the perpetrators thereof………

I’m sure they do it to wind us up and they do it on purpose, that, or they are in league with the purveyors of blood pressure medicants.

Allow me to illustrate:

Sunday afternoon, Biggin Hill Air-show on the goggle box; the surround sound is wound up and flexing the windows. Enter honeybunch
“Loud isn’t it!” Strike one. That’s why I turned it on you dozy cunt, is what I wanted to say, but I let it slide.
“Now listen; this is what it’s about lass: a Spitfire.”
“Sounds just like any other engine to me.” Strike two. You fucking soulless harridan!

Michael Clarke announces his retirement and gets emotional:
“Aw.” She says “I feel sorry for him, don’t you?”
“No!” “He’s a baggy green Aussie bastard, which is as hateful a frenchman (No! Fuck off spell-checker he’s not having a capital F) without an English arrow sticking out of his chest. I hate the bloody convicts; they hate us so why should I feel pity for him”
“But it’s only a game and you shouldn’t get so angry, it can’t be good for you.” Strike three through twenty-three.

See what I mean. They can never attain cuntitude, but by the fuck the know about cuntishness and how to twist it when it’s in up to the hilt.

Of course you could never trump Cuntishness with Cuntitude or you’d never get your shirts ironed.

Sneaky vindictive cunning Cunts.

Nominated by: King Cnut