a nomination for “Check-A-Trade”,

CAP’N MAGS: Hello, is that Pavel?
PAVEL: Yes, is Pavel.
CAP’N MAGS: I found your number on Check-A-Trade. I need some plumbing done.
PAVEL: Yes, me plumber. Polska Pavel Plumber.
CAP’N MAGS: Hmm. Are you gas safe?
PAVEL: I am come on magic aeroplane is from Poland.
CAP’N MAGS: The magic what?
PAVEL: The magic aeroplane. I leave Poland no skills no qualified, I get on magic plane, land in UK, I am suddenly qualified builder. Magic Aeroplane good.

(end call)

CAP’N MAGS: Hello is that Günter from CheckATrade? I’m after a qualified plumber.
GÜNTER: Dâ, I best plumber in Lithuania. Here now fix pipes. But busy.
CAP’N MAGS: Can you do this week?
GÜNTER: Niet. Wednesday helping new people arrive from lorry, Thursday collect money Benefits office. Friday Saturday I selling drugs, and Sunday check my girls alright in brothel. Next Monday?

(end call)

CAP’N MAGS: Hello, is that Ciprian?
ROMESCU: No, I Romescu his friend
CAP’N MAGS: Oh. Not Ciprian from Check-A-Trade?
ROMESCU: No, he go Romania.
CAP’N MAGS: I’m trying to find a qualified plumber.
ROMESCU: He… come back soon
CAP’N MAGS: Are you a plumber?
ROMESCU: No, no. I burglar. I clean houses. I clean them of everything, ha ha.
CAP’N MAGS: I see.
ROMESCU: Ciprian come back but don’t know when. He only deported last week after prison finish. Two years prison for ‘cleaning’ houses. He come back under seat in cousin’s car. Maybe Tuesday. I get him call you.

(end call)

Nominated by Captain Magnanimous

‘Systematic abuser’ Hannegret Donnelly (55) has been found guilty of murder at Kingston Crown Court. The court heard that Donnelly controlled her husband Christopher ‘through threats and beatings’ which led to his death.

At time of death, Mr Donnelly was found to have no less than 78 external injuries and several internal ones, including neck and spine fractures.

Mrs Donnelly was arrested after confessing to police that she had hit her husband over the head with a rolling pin. Reports state that blood spatters were later found in the couple’s house.

After the verdict was given, a statement was read to the media in defence of the accused by crusading organisation ‘Social Justice for All (Except White Males)’. Spokesthingy Cruella Trans-Person stated ‘ this is a classic case of toxic masculinity and patriarchal behaviour. This privileged male exploiter has clearly been inflicting misery and suffering upon this innocent, vulnerable, exploited wimmun for years, until she could take no more and finally broke under intolerable mental strain. She’s the victim here, not the perpetrator. This beast had it coming, and he deserved all he got’.

SJA (ex. WM) has launched a campaign which aims to secure the release of Mrs Donnelly, and also demands that the mortal remains of Mr Donnelly should be banged up for life. ‘A clear and unequivocal message must be sent that this kind of toxic male behaviour will no longer be tolerated’ shrieked Trans-Person, before rushing off to attend a meeting of the ‘Gender Fluid Action Committee’ (GFAC).

It was subsequently announced by the organisation’s Appeals Secretary, Tarquin Soy-Boye, that a ‘crowd funder’ will be organised to raise cash for the campaign. Soy-Boye indicated that all contributions would be gratefully received, but that blank cheques would be especially welcome.

Nominated by Ron Knee

A cunt punch cunting for the insufferable waste of human life who chew gum like a horse on speed.

If there’s one thing that can flip me into a primal rage is some cunt behind my ear chewing gum like no tomorrow. Mouth wide open, air bellowing out their nostrils, it truly is an insidious bit of cunthood which will eventually wind me up at court for gbh

At best, it’s plain rude. However, since most of the people who does this belong to certain “groups” (want for a better word) , it’s knuckle dragging in its purest form and should be hence forth punishable by flogging.
Get fucked

Nominated by Cuntflappage

Jancis Robinson

Who? Jancis who is a wine “expert” and makes a good living out of publicizing plonk – and herself – in books, videos, presentations, sites and a column in the Financial Times. She was awarded the OBE in 2003 and claims to advise Her Maj on the kind of hooch to stock the royal cellar with. I read her FT column for a laugh and the ludicrous attempts to describe how the stuff tastes – the usual clichés about a cheery red with a hint of walnut, tobacco and exquisite blackcurrant, a silky yet powerful white with a lush vanilla aftertaste and smoky fine spicy tannin etc. Like all these wine experts, she only takes a sip, spits it out then starts on another, sometimes sampling over a dozen wines in the same sitting. How anyone could have any taste buds left after this is a mystery to me but I am not a Master of Wine as Jancis is.

Rather than go on about her, I will let you sample Jancis´s style and give you an insight into her world. Apparently poor old Jancis suffers from “guest stress syndrome” and was very nervous indeed about how to impress fussy guests at a dinner party last year. This is how she solved the “problem”.

“We all took our glasses to the table for a salad of fresh mozzarella, tiny heritage tomatoes and a few shavings of black truffle to double up on our pre-poured glasses of Coche-Dury’s Meursault Rougeots 2009. My plan had been to serve a California Chardonnay from the cool Sonoma Coast, DuMOL’s Isobel Chardonnay 2013, made, incidentally, by a Scottish winemaker. Full-bodied whites served too cold are often wasted, tasting merely wet rather than expressing any nuance. When I tasted it before our friends arrived, I was a bit worried (guest stress syndrome again). I was concerned the California wine would be dismissed as too blowsy and obvious because it seemed so much richer than the Coche. So I decanted the Coche, as I do often with white burgundies, in order to expose them to lots of air that would loosen them up. I splashed it into a generous magnum decanter and put it in our wine store, which is kept at a regular 13C, rather than in the fridge. Full-bodied whites served too cold are often wasted, tasting merely wet rather than expressing any nuance.I was delighted to find that by the time the two Chardonnays were served side by side, the Coche had opened out and the DuMOL had tightened up, so they really were quite a respectable match for each other. California honour was saved.”

Well thank goodness that worked out Jancis! No wonder you look so smug in the column photo.

Nominated by Mr Polly

The DVLA are due are a cunting for being a bunch of time incompetent, bureaucratic, time wasting, no point to there fucking existence cunts. Alright, I’m partly responsible, for not having done it when I should have. But I’ve been busy, really busy. So, I’ve been the owner/occupier of McGraw Castle for three or four years now, and I’ll admit, I forgot to update my driving licence with the correct address. I finally got round to it, and decided that since technology is, allegedly, my friend, I thought I’d be all 21st Century and do it online. SIX fucking times I tried. Each time, I got to the end and was greeted by the message that the session had timed out, because I had been inactive for more than twenty minutes. That’s bollocks, because each attempt took me no longer than five minutes. Anyway, after the last attempt, my tablet was in serious danger of starting a new job as a satellite, so I decided to phone the DVLA. BIG…FUCKING…MISTAKE. As with all government/company phonelines these days, it’s a computerised, multiple choice, press 1 for this shite service, press two for that shite service, press three to go fuck yourself, load of bollocks. I listened to options, I pressed one, then I pressed three, then I pressed two, then I pressed three again, then I pressed one again, then I was told that I couldn’t change my address over the phone, it had to be done either online or by post.

To quote Samuel L Jackson, “MOTHERFUCKERS”!!! Why the fuck didn’t the computerised voice just tell me at the start that I couldn’t do it over the phone, instead of letting me waste time sitting there, pushing one, two, three, two, one? Is there even anyone at the DVLA? And if so, what the fuck do they do all day, apart from feeling self-important? WHY can’t you do it over the phone? I’m only changing address, if they need a new photo, I can happily send them one through the post, (then again, at no point during my online attempts did mention a photo. So I see no reason why doing it over the phone is so difficult). But no, they’ve chosen the path of cuntery, and won’t let you do something as simple as that, and since their online ‘service’ is equally cuntish, the only option now is by mail. The only comfort I can draw from this, is that I know they hate getting things through the mail.

DVLA, you bunch of cunts.

Nominated by Quick Draw McGraw