Boris’s Barnet

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As the old crimper’s gag goes:

“ ‘Ere now I gotta wear a pair of knickers on me barnet”
“Why?”
“You’ve cut it like a cunt”

Thus hairstyle maketh the man. Point is this cozening cunt deliberately scruffs up his barnet for the camera. Must think it makes him look like a man orf the people, not the over privileged spawn orf Eton that he in fact is. However nothing can mask the beaky nose and the greedy rapacious eyes. “Me me first” Boris.

Blighty has a Foreign Secretary that looks like a shambling pervert and a demented hunch back Prime Minister from the Brothers Grimm, the Downing Street House of Horrors. Write your own cast list. Who needs Gun Boats when we have Boris to frighten the natives. Trouble is these days the natives just tell the dosser cunt to fuck off and do your flies up. As a diplomat (first requirement on the job description) he is a disaster and is rightly regarded as an international joke.

Recall those heady days after Cameron fucked himself for the leadership and Johnson and Gove knifed each other in the back to let May through. Much talk orf Johnson’s debating skills and speech making prowess. Transpires the cunt literally sounds like he is talking out of his arse – “Pop pop flubber flubber fluster oh shit yahoo raspberry”.

Puffing posturing cunt courts the media until one orf his regular cock-ups obliges him to hide his cowardly arse. Then he allegedly indulges in “extramarital adulterous liaisons”(quote courtesy the Appeal Court), love child ect ect until the all clear sounds. Perfect credentials to hold one orf the highest offices of state.

Nominated by Sir Limply Stoke

 

23 thoughts on “Boris’s Barnet”

  1. From empire to decadence in under a decade, is this really where ISAC is now? Cunting an eccentric MP’s do?

    I know a lot of the biggest cunts have been cunted into multiple figures but seriously, the selection of noms is getting more banal by the day.

    • When I was a kid, we used to have things called Gonks with hair identical to his.

      They existed to have a pencil shoved up where the sun don’t shine.

      • Limpers, am sure that “ect ect” after “love child” is a slip of the keyboard (I suffer a lot), but the buffoon does indeed look as if he’s had an appointment with a few hundred volts across the temples…

      • No mishstake, regrettably there is a certain class orf filly that allows the skin flaking cunt to shag and otherwise pleasure it. Hence his previous in such matters. Beyond comprehension I know what a filly or indeed an old mare will jump through hoops for, but there it is. Recall in the early days orf The Sun a splash on some slapper pictured holding a pair orf knickers smeared in green slime with the headline “I was shagged by a Martian”.and you know, she might very well have been.

    • I would cunt you Stinker but as you claim “the selection of noms is getting more banal by the day”.

  2. Boris is probably the only politician on the planet with hair worse than Donald Trump’s mop.

  3. Good post! I could never understand how any self respecting woman would “invite him in”, so to speak. She would already have a cunt. Why would she want two?

  4. As Oscar Wilde once observed:

    “There’s only one thing worse than Prime Minister May… and that’s the thought of Prime Minister Johnson…”

    Cue much sycophantic laughter from all fellow cunters.

    Very witty cunting Sir Limply!

  5. Detest every bit of Boris, not just his hair.

    A dangerous and devious upper class lying chancer who likes to portray himself as a loveable buffoon in order to get what he wants, even at the expense of the electorate of the country if necessary.

  6. Blimey another one down. Peter Stringfellow has twanged his last g-string at the age orf 77. Worked with the little cunt in the early days (his not mine) and gave him a few pointers re presentation orf the female form and how to get dried spunk orf the seats. Died from the big C (that’s Cancer, not Cunt). A worthy epitaph.

  9. I had to visit the doctor’s surgery to discuss what’s been going on with my missus.

    For a few days each month she’s taken to wearing a black afro wig, a straw boater hat, blacking up her face and occasionally bursting into song, more often than not, “The Camptown Races.”

    Strangely, the real problem is the week leading up to these episodes, she becomes very irritable, short tempered and has terrible mood swings.

    Fortunately the doctor has assured me that I’ve nothing to worry about, as these are the usual symptoms that come with being pre-minstrel….

  10. I have come to the conclusion that no cunt (big or small) should go uncunted. To that end I propose a sing along. No hand holding, kumbaya, feel good, multicultural rap shit. But a rousing WWII era drinking tune. Recall the days of yore when our great nations stood united in the fight against Cuntkind…

    Cunt them all. Cunt them all. The long and the short and the tall.
    Cunt all the actors and movies that suck
    Cunt all the MPs who don’t give a fuck
    ‘Cause we’re saying fuck off to them all, as back to the cesspool they crawl
    They’ll get no respect as we wring every neck, so cheer up ISAC*, Cunt them all

    🎵. 🎼. 🎶. 🇬🇧. 🇺🇸. 🇨🇦. 🇦🇺. 🇳🇿

    *Pronounced I-sack

  11. I wonder if The Bullingdon Club’ll use Johnson’s skull as a cocksocket for a future shit stain of a Prime Minister to fuck. Gideon’ll lick it clean.

    Cunts.

  12. The kind of born to rule Eton Tory toff who used to rack up votes for the Labour Party. Then they decided to even things up by bringing in Catweazle, Flabbot etc.
    Come back Sir Nigel for fucks sake.

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