Durham miners’ union leaders… Christ, have you ever heard such a load of self pitying moaning from this load of cunts since the death of Maggie. Given a platform to air their whinges decades after they lost, they’ve made themselves even bigger cunts than they were in the 80s.
Fuck you, you cunts.
Nominated by : Dan
I had been trying to work out what was wrong with these cunting cuntards and you put it so well in a nutshell. Look at their ridiculous faces. They looked fucked then and they looked positively deranged on television the other night. They need a good cunting up their festering cunts.
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Damn bugger pissed again. Ignore previous version. Uploaded old text. This is updated version.
Harrods. The Emporium of Cunts
Little use for public transport but have accepted a damn pensioners bus pass and on the occaision I come up from the country it does afford an opportunity to fart on the hoi polloi. Point is an omnibus offers confined space – fart to advantage doncha know. So was down Harrods the old corner shop buying in a brace of well hung pheasant. A dish of putrid foul is just the ticket by way of fuelling a fellow up to perform the necessary.
As one browsed one found oneself enjoying the blissful sensation of silken fairy fingers running up and down the old horseprong. Damn me, customer service in the place is spot on. Improvement since it was anschlussed by that dodgy kraut Rowland. Then fucking Diana in his dreams Al-Fayed. Now run by a second gyppo tosser but tip me tipfer. Quite the way to meet and greet.
Next thing the old wallet was flying out me plus fours. Damn Food Hall was like a Romanian Circus full of little degenerates on the nick. Aimed a swift kick to the bollocks of the little cunt up me trousers before he was orf with me credit cards. Store security my arse. By God I let them have it.
“Beware Harrods is overrun by little fuckers on the nick. Summon to me the squalid little wog that runs the place!”
A reasonable enough request you will agree. But did the greasy little toerag appear before me by way of obsequeous apology? Gentlemen, I was given the old heave ho. Propelled out the door by a pair of size twelves to the arse.
What more to expect from another paranoid cowardly little fucking Diana’s underware in his dreams type Qatari cunt? Harrods, an Emporium of Cunts.
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Harrods needs ‘Lugless Douglas’ and ‘ Mad Eric from Smethwick’ on the doors. These pair are really good at screening out gypo cunts. Anything under 5’ 6” with a swarthy complexion would receive a mandatory nutting. Depending on Duggies level of intoxication the untermensch cunten might lose a nostril or two. A little light burning might be in order but only if I was assisting on the door.
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