The School Run

The School Run.

How did it ever get this bad. I was a child at school between 1974/1986 and one thing I remember as clear as it were yesterday is that no fucker ever got dropped off by their parents in a car. Neither primary nor high school. Maybe it was just because it was the seventies and eighties, the fact that cars were usually one per family and only used at weekends, maybe kids were less lazy, I don’t know.

What I do know know is this – the hour between 0800 and 0900 is possibly the most stressful in my day. I work weird shifts so the privilege of taking my spawn to school falls usually on me. As an appetiser to this cunt of a main course I usually finish work at 0200, in bed for 0230 and up at 0645, (sometimes I come off nights at 0700) giving me a solid 4 hours sleep in preparation for this fucking treat as my wife nonchalantly applies her make up and informs me I was snoring.
Following my prepping the kids’ packed lunches and winding myself up asking my 14 yr old if he’s ready we eventually get in the car. The first bit is the high school drop, distance 3.8 miles. some of it on a dual carriageway. Problem 1…Why the fuck do people get annoyed when you overtake them…. on a dual carriageway? It’s not synchronised driving or the video to fucking “Metropolis”. I’m not questioning your manhood. Half the fuckers giving it the big man would run a mile if I stopped. I have never understood road rage. The rest is a windy B road which seems to be a suicide hotspot for foxes and badgers and a test track for the local council bin wagons. Kicking the 14yr old out half a mile short is the easy bit, the return journey and subsequent walk to the primary school with the the 4 year old is the real test.

Our primary school is lovely, C of E, good OFSTED rating and up a long cul-de-sac and “no parking” markings everywhere for safety. Because I’m not a lazy cunt and think child safety is important I park a good half mile away and walk. By doing this I don’t wind up the residents, I promote exercise to my child and during the ten minute walk I wind my self up to the point that I act out scenarios in my head where I drag the always the same fat lazy cunts parked right outside the fucking school on the fucking zig-zags in the same fucking “their spot” in their same fucking cars which invariably fall into two fucking categories, the pile of shit; usually a Vauxhall or Ford with a magic tree hanging from the fucking rear view mirror in a pointless attempt to mask the smell of counterfeit fags being chain smoked by the driver and passenger as they wait to disgorge Lexi or Callum in a blue fucking haze so they can fuck off home and either watch Judge Rinder (she) or play Call of Duty (he) or secondly – the “aren’t we well off car” Audi, BMW, Merc, you know the drill, bonus points for those badges in a 4 x 4, usually “parked” in the most arrogant fucking manner, across driveways, forcing people onto the road and more often than not occupied by either – lone female, blonde, over fucking forty, bottoxed to the fucking max and either a) dressed for the coffee morning with the other cunts of her ilk where they will feign liking each other and secretly examine each others faces for fine fucking lines or b) “dressed” for the gym. Not to do anything remotely useful like fucking exercise mind, oh no, just to ponce about like an absolute cunt, pouting at the invariably gay fitness instructors and looking at other women’s arses wondering if it is better than theirs. Or lone male, he’s the male equivalent of the above but usually does the school run just once a week in order to let people know that above cunt has a husband, he will inevitably be dressed for work, usually a suit and, more often than not, a bluetooth earpiece which he will constantly speak loudly into with the fucking window open, pretending to talk with Ryan in fucking accounts regarding some fantasy deal when he is really watching fucking Pornhub on silent between his fucking legs whilst Georgia or fucking Henry watch their iPads in the rear. Following this ritual scent marking this absolute cunt will fuck off to his work and prematurely ejaculate in his dog rough minimum wage secretary whilst secretly wishing his cock was bigger. My daily fantasy usually ends the same, after dragging these utter cunts out of their cars, they are all stood in a line, they all apologise and are then machine gunned to death in front of the cheering children for being such utter selfish cunts.

Nominated by HenryV

21 thoughts on “The School Run

  1. Fuck me. I wore my lips out reading that.
    However, I concur about the school run. At our local (village) primary it is a no-go area of car driving cunts at school times, a lot of whom live within a few 100 metres of the school, then do 3 or 4 point turns on a blind bend to go the few 100 metres back home.

  2. Luckily I finished the primary school run over a year ago. Like you we lived that little bit far away to walk the whole way, so, I drove 5 minutes there, and, like you parked 1/2 a mile away in the local Morrisson’s car park to give me, the kid and the Patterdale some mild morning exercise to start the day. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY I had to slalom round the inconsiderate cunts (almost always parking Stanleys) who abandoned their motors on the pavement. After a while I just thought “fuck it” and used to deliberately knock their wing mirrors if they were in the way, along with some choice words if they were still in the car. My finest moment however came when I encountered another Stanley on the pavement, lifted the dog onto his bonnet and made him walk up and over his car. Cunt didn’t know what to say. I did, though, gave him a mouthful and took a fucking photo of his illegally parked car. Cunts to a man. Same for fucking pavement cyclists.

  3. I was at school in the very early 1950,s. No fucker had a car and shanks’ pony was the only form of transport. Today, massive 4/4 driven by peroxide wenches block the roads solidly as they take little Mohammed and his siblings to the local ex C of E School. Apart from causing danger to one and all, it fucking infuriates me that the Arthur Hill mob can afford such expensive transports 6 months after rafting to our shores.
    School runs? A load of imported foreign shite !

  4. Really proud of Trump pulling out of syria , this really pulls out the warhawk position in both political parties tho they are fuming at him right now lol. I just hope it isn’t gonna be something he goes back on. Its sad the bullshit the syrian people had to put up with in this complex proxy war, getting bombed because terrorists are terrorising them?! I don’t get it but i’m glad syrian christians are able to celebrate christmas again

    • The Syrian Christians are having the time of their lives now, no doubt. One fewer force to reckon with the psychotic, militant death-cult out to slaughter and rape (not necessarily in that order) them and anyone else in their way, marvelous scenario. The bootleg Kurds, the benevolent Russians, and Bashar all undoubtedly have their welfare and religious liberty at the top of their list.

  5. I always walk the kids to school, it’s good me me and them. There’s an effnik that insists on parking her fucking olive green 99 wrangler on the curb right outside the school – you know the curb that has the yellow school markings. Leaves her two youngest in the car (both in car seats) and toddles her big wobbly arse into the school gates with Mohammed or whatever.

    I can’t catch this bitch without a crowd otherwise I would give her a cunting right outside the gates.

  6. Although the cunting is valid beyond words I do think that you may need either;

    a) Psychiatric help, or

    b) To not live near other people

    Frankly not much different to the rest of the cunters on here.

    Many of the cuntings expose the cunters frustration of other people in general including ones own kids and spouse, *spoiler alert* the answer surely is don’t have a spouse or kids or neighbours (particularly neighbours as it it just like living in close proximity to the cunts that one has to work with, think about it would you actually want to live next door to the cunts you work with?) or indeed anyone else living near you.

    As a strategy it makes sense to me, small hunt in the woods no neighbours and behave as erratically and eccentrically as one likes. Bliss

    Merry Cuntmas everybody.

  7. Very true words.

    I have the misfortune of taking my eldest 3 times a week. The school approach road has a fair number of resident’s cars parked on it so some give and take is essential to keep the traffic flowing.

    Only there isn’t any – every time some cunt goes forward without waiting to see if there is anywhere to pull in and the whole fucking thing gets blocked up. Every fucking day. It is quite enjoyable in summer to have the inconsiderate fuck who has blocked everything up next to your open window so you can verbally tear them to pieces at your leisure and they haven’t got anywhere to go.

  8. Whilst I commute to school (I work there although no longer a teacher) the parents are a complete pain in the tailpipes. We have signs and even staff stating (in English) NO Parents beyond this point. Naturally they ignore these signs “No speekee English” is the usual excuse. We have a half mile approach road that is always blocked from 3pm until 4pm and the cunts even block the cark parks from 2.15pm! Trying to get to a meeting in the afternoon is an exercise in futility as I have to be out of my office before the horde arrive and block me in. There are bus services provided but some parents do not want their spawn mixing with the kuffar (no prizes for guessing which grouping they are from).

  9. Don’t these people want there kids to be fit? Surely fat fuck kids reflect badly on the parents.

  10. I love the poor road design on my route that has pedestrian crossings every bloody 50m to cater for these annoying cabbages. Cunts still try and cross inbetween them.

    Thankfully the only run my children do is down my chest and onto a kleenex.

  11. I hate children. I hate schools. I’d ban christmas. Being a miserable old cunt is one of the few pleasures left in life. Fuck ’em all.

  12. Single greatest cunting I’ve read.

    I don’t have kids, but have to walk past a couple of schools on my way to work.

    The description of entitled arrogance is so spot on it’s scary. Well played sir, merry Christmas.

  13. I had a good rant about this very subject early last week with a coworker.
    I know I sound like the dour, cuntish grandpa from everyone’s youth when I say this, but I literally had to walk alone (8-9 years old) in the frozen dark to catch my school bus during winter when we lived in a (then-West) German village. If these cuntlings can’t handle a bus, bike ride, or walk to school less than a mile away, we’re in for a marvelous experience when they’re the ones having to look after our withered old asses.

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