The Royal Brat Factory

Fuck me,years of inbreeding may have affected their mental capacities,but it certainly hasn’t affected their virility,more’s the shame. They breed like locusts. The latest to announce another parasite-in -waiting is The Half-Blood Half-Wit and his eye-for -the main-chance tart. Another spoiled,entitled brat who’ll expect the taxpayer to keep it for it’s entire life. I’m not even sure that coloured people and Gingers should be allowed to breed….an Uppity carrying the ginger gene can’t end well. I hope they call it Terry…Terry the Chocolate Orange.

William and that vacuous brood-mare that he married are pumping the brats out in much the same style as any other benefit-dependent,workshy bunch of Spongers. No thoughts of setting an example about the threat of overpopulation for The Royal Graspers. I don’t like the look of that lad of theirs either,looks a nasty,spoiled,lazy little bugger already.

We’ve got the Middleton woman permanently up the duff,now the Darkie woman,and it can’t be long until that pudding-faced tart who got married the other day is with whelp too. All “Royals”,all expecting to lead empty,unproductive,tax-payer funded lives of unearned indulgence and sloth.

I’d put a stop to the whole charade. Personally, after the old biddy and Prince Philip bugger off I’d like to see an end to it all,but I suppose that there is a place for a drastically slimmed-down Royal Family. Although,to be fair, they can have as big a Royal Family as they like,just as long as I’m not expected to contribute a single penny towards them. The sight of that pompous gasbag Prince Andrew announcing that his daughter’s wedding was a “private wedding” the other day nearly had me blowing a fucking gasket…if it was private,why the fuck should the taxpayer foot the bill for any part of it?

However, I digress. The Royals haven’t bred a decent ‘un in generations. The Queen’s male children are appalling, Charles’ son seems to be following the same lazy,entitled path as his father. Hewitt’s child seems to an easily led congenital idiot. Andrew’s children are,as previously discussed,fat,ugly and bone idle. Edward’s children are ,frankly,highly suspect in my eyes. I believe that a Jeremy Kyle DNA test may be in order there.

If you’re breeding horses,dogs,cattle,pigs etc., you don’t keep breeding off poor stock. You can put the finest thoroughbred mare with a donkey and all you’ll breed is a Mule. The Royals seem to believe that a drop of fresh blood will reverse the ravages of generations of inbreeding…well it fucking won’t. As is proved by the current crop of junior Royal parasites.

They should all be Jaffaed before they spread any more of their compromised DNA through the population. Now that they have moved on to breeding with Darkies,well the results could be horrific.. I foresee a tribe of benefit scrounging,,entitled,ginger- afroed,chiggun- munching Joey Deacons who have no soul…..not a pleasant thought, I’m sure you agree.

Fuck them.

Nominated by Dick Fiddler

Celebrity writers

Celebrity writers are cunts…

These are the sort of wankstains who write a book, film, or TV series (usually badly) and they want and get more coverage and publicity than the actual actors and directors involved…. There are loads of these cunts now… That odious snowflake cunt, Steven Moffatt did this to unbearable degrees with Doctor Who…. The pubheaded fuck actually referred to it as ‘my show’ and publicly called himself ‘the showrunner’…Same goes for Moffatt and Mark Gatiss with Sherlock… They never shut the fuck up… And now that cunt who wrote that recent pile of BBC shite, The Bodyguard, is getting all kinds of coverage and spouting crap about his ‘creaton’ and acting the star… ‘Why the Home Secretary (in the series) had to die’ on the front of Radio Times?! Nobody gives a fuck, you egowanking cunt… But the worst offender where this is concerned has to be JK ‘Cunt’ Rowling’… This saggy titted hag not only will milk Harry Potter Hillsborough/Grenfell style till the day she dies, but she also thinks she is some sort of demigod and great thinker who can tell ‘ordinary folk’ what to do…. Rowling is one of the biggest cunts on the planet… Just where do these fuckfaces get off? I don’t recall the likes of Tony Warren, Johnny Speight, Brian Clemens,Terence Dicks, Clement and Fe Frenais, Robert Holmes, Galton and SImpson having ‘exclusive’ interviews all the time spouting self important crap and telling people what to do and how to vote… Cunts with no looks or talent who want to be superstars just because they (think they) can write? Fuck off!

Nominated by Norman

Internet passwords

Internet passwords are cunts, aren’t they?

I remember my first internet account, a aeons ago. Subsequently I opened another, to use as a work one. It’ll make life more simple, I reckoned, easier to organise things. Later, I opened one without my name for extraneous leisure activity. The trouble was, I had to remember the bloody passwords.

I opened a Yahoo one because they were best for images, apparently.
Then you had to change your password once a month. Sigh.

My mates opened gmail accounts and advised me to open one, especially as later you could align your youchoob thingy or something. I also had to open one for my mobile. Plus ones at work. More passwords.

You want to close your account? Achingly difficult. Harder to get rid of than a Pakî on disability benefits.

MySpace came and went, followed by Fakebook and other superfluous Soshul Meeja wank. Amazon wanted one, as did job sites, council cunts and a site on which I bought a railway ticket! My bank insisted on one, as did some shite site whenever I paid on visa.

We all know the story:-
“Password incorrect, please enter new password.”
[Captain M. enters new password]
“You cannot use your old password!”
[Captain M. enters the name of his favourite past girlfriend]
“Password must contain a number”
“Password must contain eight letters”
“Password must contain a capital letter”
“Password must contain a weird, unnecessary character.”


Moreover, May your God/Buddha/Invisible Friend have mercy on you if you are abroad and refused entry. Fuck’s Sake, it took months off my life sorting it out. I sometimes wish I could live off the grid and tell the internet to Shit Off.

Nominated by Captain Magnanimous

Speed Bumps

Speed bumps give me the right hump, the cunts.
Now I fully appreciate the original rationale behind putting these fucking miniature pyramids on urban roads; it was to ‘calm’ traffic, with the aim of reducing accidents and even saving lives. It was well meaning, right?
Well obviously I’m no expert on the subject, but I question whether they do achieve their goal to any significant extent, and I reckon that they may actually be more fucking trouble than they’re worth. As far as I can see, self-styled ‘real’ drivers of the ‘boy racer’ (and increasingly ‘girl racer’) persuasion see them as a challenge rather than a deterrent, and hurtle across them as though they’re on safari somewhere in a tank-like 4×4. On the other hand, your thoughtful, more responsible driver is mindful of the speed limit anyway, and if anything s/he probably finds the presence of these hulking obstructions every few yards to be a source of irritation and frustration, which might in turn lead to loss of concentration or even ‘road rage’. I’d also bet that humps are a factor in channelling traffic away from roads where they’re present onto those where they aren’t, just moving the speed management issue elsewhere, and increasing congestion in the process. It’s my view then that these lumps might not just be ineffective, but actually counter-productive.
In any case, any rational argument for speed bumps ultimately carries little weight with me. No, I readily admit that my loathing may seem pretty irrational; I just hate the personal discomfort that these cunts cause me. My Dacia is a sturdy little car, but let’s face it, it’s no BMW, and the suspension leaves, shall we say, something to be desired. Driving around my local suburban streets is like negotiating a bleeding obstacle course, and being constantly bumped up and down plays havoc with my aching back and joints (fuck knows what it does to the car). I can absolutely guarantee that I’ll be in a lot worse mood when I get out than when I got in, and I’ll bet I’m not the only one. Counter-productive, as I said.
If it was down to me, every one of these bastards would be ripped out tomorrow and consigned to the nearest landfill. Well, all bar one. This would be inserted up the arse of whoever came up with the idea in the first place, sideways.

Nominated by Ron Knee

PPI Claim Adverts

Fucking PPI Claim Adverts need a colossal cunting. The adverts that appear on every cunting newspaper site. Always the same fucking cunts on the photos, holding up a credit card or a statement or whatever fucking else the cunts think they can cunting help you with for 35 cunting percent of your fucking money.

Jesus Christ in a Zeppelin, every cunt and their ancestral cunts know about PPI and the ease you can do a claim yourself. But no, these cunts home in on the fuckwits who probably had PPI on a fucking Wonga loan and because of the fucking interest rate are owed enough to buy Porsche and Brooklyn fucking Sunny Delight for the next decade.

If not the fucking adverts then the phone calls from Bryan who is obviously working from India and using an Indian accent to try and alleviate you of your fucking hard earned by going through the list of names he has on his fucking script in the hope you are one of them. Then for a nominal fee of 35% he can helping you claiming back your PPI.

All these cunts need whipping with a sock full of piss

Nominated by Dry Itchy Cunt