EMERGENCY cunting for French “authorities.”
Apparently, they are insisting the luscious Marine Le Pen undergoes psychiatric “evaluation.”…
Why ?? Because she DARED to post images of DAESH executions on her website.
The Frogs really are the most cheesy appeasers. Snail-eating toerags.
Nominated by HBelindaHubbard
Lily Allen, that popular cunting target has excelled again. Her infantile weeping and subsequent tweet about being robbed of the winning prize at the Mercury Music Awards merely confirmed her poll position of Mega Cunt. It seems this self centred little Gimp has never actually grown up,
Her performance on BBC’s Saturday morning Crispy Cooking Cunt Fest, Saturday Kitchen, demonstrated she can’t even eat properly, Queen of Cuntland, Lily Allen is an Eighteen Carat Cunt!!!
Nominated by Walrustitty
Jonathan Pie is an annoying cunt, isn’t he?
Who is he and why does he look like a champagne socialist, smarmy, never-done-a-day’s-work-in-his-life cunt? To those lucky enough not to know, since 2015 he’s been a comic creation by Tom Walker who is, coincidentally, smarmy, a bit of a never-done-a-day’s-work socialist AND a bit of a cunt.
The premise is thus: Jonathan Pie is a tv journalist reporting on a topical news story of the week. He finishes his report then, angrily yanking the earpiece out and now being “off air”, we see him begin a rant with an unseen foil, ‘Tim’ to whom he constantly speaks. So far so objectionably good.
The problem is, like the BBC and Channel4 News, Pie has a secret agenda. It’s not difficult to spot if you’ve seen a few of these unleashed vents. Would anybody like to guess the two irritants either side of the Atlantic to which he constantly alludes? Could anyone possibly make a supposition what Pie is usually furious over and perpetually crowbars in to every single rage as if it’s contractually obliged? It matters not what or whom Pie is scathing Theresa May, the Police, free speech, the Summer, he manages to squeeze in the two comedy giants, the guaranteed winners at the shittest comedy venue, the contingency safety net of ubiquitous comedians bereft of humour: Trump ‘n’ Brexit.
Certain issues (Jeremy Corbyn, the EU, the LibDems, feminism, The Clintons, anti-fascist fascists, the SNP) are ignored regardless of their golden, comic potential.
He wants to be seen as a seething, moral, comedic intellectual but actually comes across as a spoilt, pretentious Mummy’s boy who’s discovered obscene swear-words. He’s like a constipated Ben Elton with toothache. His formulaic one-trick consists of him churning the same liberalist guff, approaching the camera and gnashing profanities while becoming increasingly redder.
There is oodles of jocular material at the moment yet we hear the same re-hashed drivel week in, week out. Comedy is dull and this smug prick, with his artificial face of thunder, his feigned fury, and contrived indignation, isn’t helping.
Nominated by Captain Magnanimous
**Emergency Cunting**
David Beckham
Just back from the newsagents, where I was confronted by the sight of Beckham’s smug, self satisfied face plastered across the tabloids after dodging a speeding offence on a technicality. Just pay the fine and stop acting like such a rich, fucking smartass prick.
What an absolute bellend. Him and his stick insect missus are a match made in heaven; the perfect pairing of utterly despicable cunts
Nominated by Ron Knee
I don’t have a mobile phone, nor do I want one. I’ve managed fine for 60 odd years without one, as has the human race since we first crawled out of our caves.
Still, they’re here now, and here to stay. Many people see mobile phones as an absolute, indispensable necessity of modern day existence, an essential tool to help organise a hectic life, and I’m absolutely cool with that.
But believe it or not, some twats actually get anxiety and stress when they’re parted from their little darling for even a short while, or have to switch it off. My goodness, however will they function if they’re unplugged from the electronic universe? Oh God, the office will completely cease to function if I can’t be reached for an hour! Jeez, how am I going to let all my Facebook followers know the riveting news that I’m currently in Starbucks, drinking my coffee?
Headshrinkers in America (where else?) have even come up with a fucking clinical term for the saps who experience this mental torment. It’s called ‘Cell Phone Withdrawal Syndrome’. In California, Snowflake Capital of the World, there are even mobile phone ‘addiction clinics’ where you can check in for ‘desensitivity programming’ or to ‘get clean’ in street parlance.
The saddest gits of all are those tossers who, when they can’t get a signal, desperately extend an arm in the air and frantically wave their precious smartphone about. That’s right you cocks; the additional couple of feet will enable you immediately to connect with the communications satellite orbiting approximately ten thousand miles above your head.
You couldn’t make it up.
Nominated by Ron Knee
My little shits won’t move from the bed without charge. I never had a cellphone until I was 23. Then I was mocked mercilessly for being a try-hard. Within weeks everyone had one and we were texting each other from one end of the dinner table to the other. Bit of harmless fun. We knew it was a novelty. We still had a phone connected to the wall and one fucking screen.
As I type this, every brat has a screen and a phone. The phone is connected to their hand and Fuck knows how they play Fortnite with the extra appendage, but they manage. And if I tell them to lose the screen time, they bitch about how awful a Mother I am. Cockheads, the lot of them but they run as a pack. They’re all on the same page. Currently I have one son playing with a friend in Tahoe. His Avatar name is Deeznuts. This kid yells so loud I feel like I have another child in the house.
My son’s Avatar is Lickmaballs. BTW
And half an hour ago, the oldest called me on his mobile to bring him a fucking towel!
A fucking towel! Called me from the other end of the House. Couldn’t drip his way to the linen closet.
Nominated by CaliAngel