Commercial Radio stations are Cunts.
These dreadful excuses for entertainment have been the bane of my life, as they have been forced on me for the majority of my working years. How the fuck anyone would listen to them of their own volition is way beyond me. Be it national, or a local radio station, there is little difference. All DJs are cunts, granted, but the low hanging fruit that populate these instruments of torture are the type of cunt you would love to see when reading an obituary column.
The music they play is usually the worst pop music from the last thirty years, and they will play the same shit song, at the same time, every fucking day. If you hear a song, and you hate it instantly, say, something that one of Cowells no mark pricks has recorded, then you know that it will be going into the shit loop of dross that these wankers play. Forever.
So, that’s the music, and the presenters sorted, so it’s on to the main event. The adverts. All adverts are solid cunt, we all agree. They are usually targeted at the lowest common denominator. But with commercial radio, that bar is set a lot lower, as their target audience is the lowest of the low, in both taste and intelligence. This means that the adverts you hear on the radio are possibly in contravention of the Geneva convention, such is the torture involved in listening to them. From that fucking pound shop Jason Manford clone who fronts the plusnet ads, PPI claims scum, Tool shops (you know the ones I’m talking about), fucking local hero dot fucking com, I despise them all, with every fibre of my being. You know that the ads are for the base level of humanity, as most of them have some cunt whistling in the theme tune. So, fuck the radio, fuck the cunts who work for them, fuck the cunts who advertise on them, and fuck those who listen to them.
But most of all, fuck the cunts who make me listen to them!
Nominated by Gutstick Japseye