The Commonwealth Games starts today. Wowza! Mrs D is having an eye operation this morning, so she won’t we able to watch the opening ceremony. Literally. Frankly, I almost envy her…
I am forced to reflect on another recent sporting occasion – the Open. You know, the one where arrogant rich bastards like Tiger Woods get paid huge amounts of money to hit a little white ball down a patch of grass and then tap it into a plastic cup with a stick.
This led me to think that perhaps both events should really be called the Coon and Wealth Games?
Nominated by: Dioclese
I advance cunt the Commonwealth games. All will know why a week after it starts.
Nominated by: King Cunt
I was initially looking forward to the games, but then I discovered that there would be no archery or tae kwon do. I’ve been an archer since I was 7, and have practiced tae kwon do since I was ten. So you can imagine what a crock of shite I now think these games are.
Bowls. They have fucking bowls at these games. A ‘sport’ for geriatrics. They might as well have coffin dodging in the same arena. I surprised Wee Eck hasn’t added haggis eating and Mars bar deep frying as traditional Scottish sports. Well as far I’m concerned, without archery and tae kwon do, Alex Salmond can shove the games right up his smug, fat arse.
Anyone care to guess how many members of the teams from India, Pakistan, and the various African and Caribbean countries will disappear at the end of the games. I’m going for 350.
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I’d have thought that Binge Drinking would have been top of the events, with the Jocks sure of a Gold
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Accidentally saw some orf the opening ceremony. Total McCrap. Has the opening of a sporting event ever featured so many fat McCunts engaged in some sort of dad dancing? The hoink arising from their bare McFeet in those multicoloured plimsoles was like an elllergie or do I mean allergy for independence.
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I bet a load of these ‘afleets’ don’t go back once the Common Wog Games are over.
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I nominate you as a premature cunt as the Games are great. I pity your wife who every night retires to bed knowing that you will have dribbled your load all over your pj’s on the way up the stairs.
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