‘Right-on’ cars

Snowflake cars are cunts.

We should have seen the warning to history back in the 80’s when Citroen 2CV’s appeared dressed as lady birds.

In the entire history of the automobile the ‘deux chevaux’ set the scene. A genuinely awfull mode of transport beyond basic.

Who drove this shit? In my experience it was long frock wearing right on Media Studies and Art Teachers destined to become modern parents.

No doubt Le Froggy, knowing the cars they produced were an utter pile of shite marketed them as having a personality that reflected yours, this car is really shit, I mean really really shit and you’re such a cunt you’d love to associate your self with it as it marks you out as being ‘like ya know, right on man’

So fast forward to 2018 and the modern day equivalent.

The latest trend? Let’s give the fucker a name, let’s call the cunt Adam, some cunt in Vauxhall’s marketing department got a bonus for that.

Not to be outdone, Renault respond with the Zoe, a shit name if ever there was but they’ve got previous as they brought us the Megane. Or Megan in English.

Then there’s the Cactus, ok it’s not a name as such, but who drives a car named after a hardy desert plant with a random rubber pattern adorning the flanks?

Fortunately though for the Snowflake, times moved on, todays cars are an appendage, air con is standard, as is a luxury interior but what counts most is giving the cunt a human name.

I had a mate who got a boxer dog and called it Norman, it was quirky at the time, now every cunt is giving their pets a stupid human name as it makes them stand out when they have to shout ‘Norman, come here now, bad Norman, stop trying to bum Ted’

And to cap it all you’ll never own Zoe or Adam as the Snowflake only understands the ‘never never’ instilled in them by the bank of Mum and Dad.

Nominated by CuntyMcCuntface.

56 thoughts on “‘Right-on’ cars

  1. Didn’t Lennon and his horrendous boiler swan round in a psychedelic Rolls Royce? Don’t remember shit paint jobs before then. That cunt has a lot to answer for.
    It is the bright yellow or pink atrocities, usually Ford Kas that deface the roads nowadays.
    But. At least boy racer cunts don’t drive them. You wont get tailgated or cut up by one so there is a plus.

    • Psychedelic paint jobs two-a-penny in the ’60s Cuntbubble. Except Dad’s Jag which remained gun metal grey.

  2. Most cars these days are nothing more than pissy little glorified spacca-chariots. I like a vehicles that is capable of clearing a swathe through a peaceful mob,should the need arise. Something like one of the baddies’ vehicles from out of Mad Max would do me.

      • Fuck no. You need something with a bit of ground clearance if you plan to go off-road through the annual General Meeting of the Rochdale taxi drivers.(bearded division).

        • How about a Morris Oxford (series IV) Traveller? With a Bubble Car chaser to clear up any stragglers.

          • My first car was a Morris Traveller. Grey with large rust patches. And fungus on the wood. The wheel fell off on a corner and that was the end of that fucker.
            They knew how to make cars in those days.

          • Any Swedes reading this might care to check out the Volvo P445 Duett Utility.

            Talk about utility – the perfect antidote to pesky peacefuls… whitewall tyres and all!

  3. Wish they’d had VAR in the 76 cup final…. Bobby Stokes was half way up the Harrow High Road when that ball came to him, the cunt…

      • Aye and it fucking hurt to this young nipper of a cunt…. I was gutted, but 79 was the worst… Gary Bailey was an inept cunt and Liam Brady was brilliant… That about sums it up…

        • I was having a wee giggle the other day Norman, about the story you told about the time some Leicester fans had took you under their wing as you’d got split up from your group at Filbert Street and they were offering you ciggies…. Hahaha… Brilliant….

  4. Mrs CnR owned a 2CV and she loved it. Me, it’s fucking death trap. The gear lever was on the dash board and you had to take your eyes off the road to find it. It was as reliable as Arsenals defence, and it was a cheap piece of shit until you needed spare parts, about every 6 weeks, that’s when they milked you.

    It finally died in a way I had never seen before. It quite literally collapsed. The sills went and the entire body just sunk. Unbelievable.

    • We called them runabouts. They were the Frog’s answer to the Mini, weren’t they? Or the other way round. Fuck this dementia!

    • One of our neighbours used to have a 2CV.

      Whenever it passed our house and we had the tv on, it totally distorted the picture.

      To my knowledge the only car that ever did that.

      Fortunately they emigrated and the car went with them.

      Horrible noisy fucking shit box.

  5. These mongs who name their houses are also cunts… That monumental bluenose fanny, Noel Gallagher, lived in a mansion he called Supernova Heights… I mean, for fuck’s sake….
    There were also these cunts near us in New Moston years ago: they called their council house (a fucking council house!) Bloomin Eck and had a plaque on the wall outside… Said cunts also decked their pit out every Christmas with a mass of lights, reindeers, fake snow and other shite a la Edward Scissorhands… They were fucking arseholes and probably still are…

  6. Surely any self respecting snowflake wouldn’t be driving around in a car in the first place, unless it’s one of those electric fuckers.
    Round my way there’s a “ modern parents” family who all have their own bikes. The baby travels in one of those death trap trailers at the back of dad’s bike with a big yellow flag waving about.
    It’s got a sticker on the side that says “Vote Labour.” It’s the only way to travel ok ya?

    • We have a millennial Green type cunt go past our house on one of those low go-cart type cruiser tricycles – Vaper billowing – 100% prat. He also has a little Union Jack fluttering above his head, probably to fool cunts like me into thinking he’s not a complete cunt. If so he’s failed miserably.

      One time I happened to be outside when he pedalled smugly past, so took the opportunity to shout “Nazi scum!” as he went by. The look of hurt bewilderment on his face as he veered around trying to maintain control was priceless, a memory I will cherish to my dying day.

      • We’ve got one of those. A palaeoflake who has put plywood panels on his gokart and painted RAF roundels on them. I shall remember your choice of polite greeting next time I see him, thank you.

        The Union Jack is to provide visibility. The cunts are close to the road and unable to see anything except their thrashing varicose legs, so as usual the onus is on you to spot that the little flag which has suddenly appeared on your bonnet indicates that you are dragging a bloody mess along the road and need to find a speed hump to knock it off.

        • Fuck me, I never considered that. Come to think of it, he hasn’t been past recently – with any luck he may have suffered a fate similar to that you so beautifully describe!

  7. ……….and taxi drivers…..peaceful rapist cunts with a taste for under age minge.

  8. I always fancied picking a girl up for a first date in my mates milk float or a JCB. Fucking wish I had now. Thick cunt.

  9. As a youth we had one of those “adventure playgrounds”. It was made up of all kinds of seriously dangerous bits of kit that wouldn’t pass no elf n safety of today. Old oil drums – “slides” that defied gravity and would easily rip a half inch out of your arse if you didn’t avoid the proud 1/4 inch bolt that kept 2 bits together. Falling on your head was an instant 3 hours in A&E waiting to be stitched up, unlike the rubberised flooring that abounds in todays soft shite play areas where you would just bounce until you went dizzy. It was “run” by 2 “students” – 30+ year old hippies that always seemed to have the word “students” attached to them no matter how old. I think it was because they smoked roll ups with that liquorice paper, house full of joss sticks and wore loons and tie died cheesecloth tops, they also knew who Che Guevara was and listened to Captain Beefheart like they actually had a fucking clue what subliminal message each track was giving. Everybody was called “man” and they made hash corned beef hash . They had no kids of their own but Boris and Maggie were just the fucking best with all the local estate hard knocks and took no shit from anyone.
    Back onto the topic of shit cars – I felt it relevant to set the scene. Boris had a mate who would turn up now and then to do some “street theatre” which is exactly what it says on the tin. They would tramp from street to street doing some obscure and occasionally obscene little ditty they had made up whilst we were at school – with the majority of the players being truants who would never make it in school anyway. Boris’s mate had a psychedelic painted ex hearse (A Rolls Royce no less) that defied the MOT test as it must have been 50 years old in the 70’s. He had made atop of the hearse a custom tap dancing area – 3mm sheet steel welded to the roof. he slept and travelled the country in this hearse and was as mad as a box of frogs. Before and after his “gig” nobody would dare approach him as he had taken on an almost trance like state and every fucker thought he was capable of eating young children. In reality Ruben was as soft as his car was shit. As a footnote – Boris died in 2010 still a “student” and Maggie still lives in the little terraced house surrounded by pictures of really proper great innocent and exciting times that the 70’s largely were. Still the brown roll ups and joss sticks. As for Ruben? Who knew? He failed to turn up for the summer street festival in 1973 and nought has been heard of him since. Happy fucking days they were.

  10. I can’t really comment on cars as I have never had one… When our kid was smashed up and killed by one it put me off for life….

    • Motor bikes did the same for me Norman. I was an apprentice in the shipyards. Out of a class of 22 – 2 died and 3 never walked again. All down to fucking around on motorbikes thinking they were invincible. I am proud to say I have never been on one either as a rider or pillion. Something not quite correctly wired in when someone with 2mm of leather (tops) propels themselves at 100+ MPH. Shit – I just re-read your post. I saw the smashed up but didn’t spot the killed. Condolences mate. Cant imagine losing a sibling to a motor accident.

  11. I once made the mistake of accepting a lift from a neighbour who had a 2CV. I’d never been in one before, and I never will again. Biggest, fucking, mistake ever. The neighbour was a bit on the fat side, so he took up a fair bit more space than his allowed for. I’m 6 feet 3, so likewise, I took up a bit more space than MY seat allowed for. And my knees were crushed up against the dash, which was a bit painful, especially since my local council prefers to spend taxpayers money on building a shiny new office block for itself, rather than filling in potholes with proper tarmac instead of that cheap spray on shite.

    We only went a couple of miles to the dealership to pick my car up, but it was the longest, most uncomfortable car ride I’ve ever been on. And I’ve driven down roads booby trapped with IED’s. In my opinion though, there is a car that beats the 2CV for shittiness, the Morris Marina. My dad bought one of them and instantly regretted it. It was shite, he couldn’t even get it nicked. And he even left it unlocked with the keys in the ignition.

    • Ha ha, you must have looked like those idiot coppers wasting taxpayers money riding around on dodgems. Cunts.

      • Yeah, we probably did. I think those ‘cars’ were the French’s revenge for Agincourt.

    • Sadly, in a fit of being skint and needing some wheels as a youth I bought an upgraded Marina – the Morris Ital. Sounds posh – it wasn’t. It was bits made up from the last of the Marina before it was rightly fucked off. We English may have made some great motors but by fuck did we turn out some shite. Marina. Ital, Maestro, Allegro, Montego, Triumph TR7 and the ever popular (amongst gimps) Reliant Robin. Awful shite. Note how none of the above have clubs like the Morris Ital owners club. Nobody would own up to it 😉

      • A few boys and I were given a lift back from a camping weekend by the scout master many years ago, circa early 1970’s.

        I recall his name was Bernard, and that the car was a Morris Marina.

        Not really into cars at that age however remember thinking at the time what a pile of shit it was.

        • I had a Marina van in the 80s and it was utterly reliable, but rusted away so badly that there was nothing left to weld to. Friday afternoon paint job probably…

          • Oh and there is a club for the Triumph TR7. Loads of oily fingered nutters converting them into TR8s and putting them back together with much more care than Leyland ever managed…

          • Me Da has had a Merc SEC for nearly 18-19 years now, then again the SECs are from an era when Mercedes knew how to put an all round quality car together. Of course, it’s seen better days now, but given it’s spent just about all of its time under his ownership in all outdoor conditions it is still a great car.

        • My Russian teacher once gave me a lift in his Alfa.

          He said to be careful where I put my feet, as there was hardly any floor left. He said he was ok, as he could use the pedals as foot-rests, but the rest…a feckin rustbucket.

          Fiat Pandas were good, though. Bloody reliable, and a high resale value, if you didn’t keep them forever, like we did.
          Had a Renault 5 once, was utter CRAP. Forever in the bloody garage. Only glad we never paid full-price for it.

          • I wonder if there are any of those big old 3L Rovers left (the Ministerial cars).
            Old boy down the road gave me a lift back home once, the think was like a London bus inside, about ten feet off the road.
            Haven’t seen any for years. A bit surprised they didn’t have some sort of cult status (CULT indeed, NOT cunt…)

      • Upgraded Marina? That’s like upgrading from dog shit to horse shit. I remember Itals, and the Maestro, Allegro, etc. Not one was a motor you’d want to be see dead in. Fortunately, my brother and sisters and I were all young children in the late 70’s/early 80’s, so we had no say in what car bought and no choice but ride in them. No shame can be attached to us for the choice of cars back then. After the Marina, my dad bought a Talbot Alpine. An improvement on the Marina, but it was orange. The bloke whose family lived next door to us swore by the Austin Maxi. He had several of them. One of the ugliest cars ever. And when they stopped making them, in 81/82, he bought an Austin Acclaim.

        I used to think TR7’s were cool, but years later I got to drive one. It was like getting shag Jennifer Aniston, and finding that her name is actually Jonathon. My first car was Mk2 Escort. Everybody raved about them, but I thought it was a load of crap. Then I bought and Escort estate. That was another pile of shite, but great for shagging my then girlfriend in the back of it.

        • My first car was a Mk5 Fiesta, great for a first ever car given that in the last 15 years most young blokes had shitty Corsas for a first car.

          Alas it was a poverty spec Zetec, no electric windows etc and after 2 and a half years it was time for a change.

          2nd car was a significant step up, pity I only had it just over a year because it got wiped out by a Eurocunt lorry when I was on my way to work…….

        • Not forgetting the mighty princess which only appeared to be made in dog turd Brown!!

          My pet hate are cunts who park their smart cars facing the payment when they could have simply parked conventionally!!
          “ oh look at me, for absolutely no apparent fuckin reason I have parked my smart car this way” My neighbours got a 4 door one which instantly marks him out as a titanic cunt and a man to be avoided at all costs!!
          I just know the Cunts waiting for the ultra smart to be made “ ah yes this little beauty of a hybrid runs on a mixture of solar energy and dog shit” 😡😡

          • A FOUR door Smart ??!
            Each door about six inches wide, then.
            A car so utterly bereft of…anything.
            I guess one sits in the driver’s seat, sticks tube up arse, farts, and orf one goes.
            As I’m over three feet tall, can’t see meself buying one, somehow.

  12. Pet car hate for me? The “loveable” VW Beetle. Nasty clattering aircooled thing that rides like a trawler in a storm and catches fire at the slightest provocation.
    A leftover Third Reich propaganda weapon that ended up being embraced by hippies for fuck’s sake.
    And Audis. Driven by utter cunts…

    • Ok, confession time, I have an Audi, but……… I have no choice.

      The company I work for enforce them on us.

      But in my defence, I’m not the archetypal Audi driver, even I hate them. Fucking cunts the lot of ‘em, except me of course!!

      • Not wrong about AudiCunt there…… never liked the pricks and their absolute road cuntitude.

    • Also embraced by Ted Bundy.

      As another cunter also pointed out, facilitates easy removal front passenger seat.

      • I had an Audi 80 and 100 back in the early 90s and they were utter shit. Door handles fell off, bulbs blew constantly, driveshafts broke, heaters packed up in winter and I even had a front suspension collapse while turning a corner. Legendary Kraut build quality my arse…

        • My old man drove Audi’s well before they became the badge of Cuntitude worn by today’s Business Development Managers.

          Growing up in the 70’s my Dad had shit heap after shit heap, weekends were spent going to scrap yards to find a recon alternator or such like for the latest piece of shit on the drive that he’d swapped or traded with some dodgy bloke from Crook Street Garage……

          Then in 1980 he bought a 6 month old Audi 100 5S. What a brilliant car that was.

          I think we had it for 7/8 years and it had about a gazillion miles on it when he finally traded it but it never let us down.

    • Beetles always sounded as though they were on the verge of breaking down to me. It must have had one bad engine.

  13. Apologies to just jump in as a new cunt. But being a cunt. I’m gonna be a cunt.
    I knew a fat bitch cunt who drives an adam – a proper twat of a cunt.
    I think after the initial piles of shite she drove previous, writing first said pile of shite off – this is now her high horse.
    A cunt before. A cunt now I assume as haven’t seen the two-toned high horse for a while.

    Also one must say Quick Draw McGraw for Prime Minister.
    I’ve just been reading an old post on here from 2016. The statement in the post was all the testimonial needed for this here cunt.

    Is A Cunt is fucking class

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