The capitalisation of grief


I’d like to cunt the capitalisation of grief.

We had to pop one of the moggies to the vet/ bank robber this week (cunt umbrella now up as I seem to recall a contributor cunting felines a day it so ago, guilty m’lud, ours shit on a bit of no man’s land behind our yard, not that it’s a decent excuse). It’s ’50/50′ they say, rubbing in the guilt even before you’ve surrendered the Visa card forever.

That’s fine, says me, when you tell me the results we’ll make up our mind whether to cash in the Panamanian unit trusts, cunts.

We’ve always had chavvy rescue moggies and you win some, you lose some but that’s part of the game.

Next question- ‘do you have Petplan?. No fucking chance Shylock, they turn down more than they pay.
This fucking insurance against death is becoming a gargantuan scam now, funeral plans being top of my list.

I have to attend a family wedding this year, not my direct relative but the stupid little cunt is hitching to a fucking undertaker. I wan’t to find out if I can get clerical discounts or a twofer on a simultaneous marriage and death, in the same day.

Hopefully the moggy will be fine, if not then it’s plan B and get a new one from a charity. Either way is fine – I’m not after sympathy chaps, just cunt these bastards who make a shed load of filthy cash from guilt and grief. Cunts!

Nominated by: Arse Biscuit

2 thoughts on “The capitalisation of grief

  1. Absolutely agree Arse Biscuit ,well cunted and it was plan b for my moggie due to the incompetent veterinarians trying to milk me for more dosh and not acting fast enough.
    Petplans are also way too expensive its like I’m playing a game of cunt lottery cause there are so many illnesses Not covered by it, so petplans are only good for so many things. Insurance cunts, ensuring you that they are good for fuck all!

  2. Indeed, Pet Insurance should be stratospherically cunted. Ex and I had a bunny from local RSPCA rescue, otherwise he would have been sold by the lb. weight on the local animal market. Erik the Norviking (he was a British Giant, and we lived in Norwich at the time…)…had earmites, as rescue animals oft do. CornhillCunt Insurance Co. paid up ONCE, and then slapped an * injunction* against any further payouts for “ANY head-related problems”. Evil bastards. Just stick a bit in the building soc every month / so often, that’s better than paying these cunts, and at least in a bs you can theoretically get your own dosh back…

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