Line Dancing

Now, I’ve never liked dancing, going right back to when I was a youth. It’s not because I’m self-conscious or anything like that and quite likely it’s partly because I’m crap at it. I’d have a go at it but I found I could always rely on my natural good looks and athleticism to attract the ladies. Some men down the years have seen dancing as a way of walking off with a pretty lady and that’s fine. I’ve always found real men can’t dance, don’t need to dance and won’t dance even with a red hot poker up their arse. Anyone who’s ‘good’ at it I’ve usually found to be a rake or a gigolo.

However, there is absolutely no fuckin way I’d even go near one of these barns to join in the phenomenon they call line dancing. What the fuck do these people think they look like? A place for pulling women? Christ, anyone remotely looking like a man would only be on the dance floor for a minute before they’d have a 70 year old granny hanging round their neck proposing to them. It’s a place designed for ugly old hags where they can actually ask a man for a dance. It might be ok for Wayne Rooney but not any self respecting men.

Then turn to the way these people are dressed. The obligatory checked shirt, the cowboy hat and the belt – don’t forget the belt because this is essential to hang your hands on. I’ve come across some cowboys in my time but none to beat these ridiculous looking cunts. And before anyone says ‘it’s great fun’ – fuck off. It’s as much fun as a hog roast in the grounds of the local mosque. It’s amazing how many of these barns due to hold these events mysteriously burn down the night before. Line dancing is for cunts.

Nominated by Bluntspeakingcunt

49 thoughts on “Line Dancing

  1. I think Steptoe originally lassoed Flabbott at one of these back in the 70’s.

    • Now there’s an image that has put me off my breakfast of boiled eggs and toasted soldiers!

  2. LL, I think at was probably more like Flabbot pulling in Steptoe with her hairy lassoe.

    That thing probably has a gravitational pull like Jupiter.

    Apologies to any cunters enjoying their breakfast…

  3. I don’t really see the point in line dancing, unless you’re standing behind a young piece of crackling with jeans so tight they cleft her arse cheeks, along with a suitably prominent camel toe.

    Other than that it sounds like a right bag of synchronized wank!

  4. How very rude.

    I,of course,dance like a cross between Nureyev and Astaire. My interpretation of the Paso Doble really does convey all the excitement and artistry of the bullfight as I glide across the floor hypnotising my prey….indeed,several people have remarked that my moves are more like a Mongoose wrestling a Cobra such is my sheer Artistry and Grace.

    I will admit to not going to Barn Dances. I’d imagine that they’d be full of rather common people wearing cowboy hats and saying “yee-haw”. However,if this is what passes for “dancing” amongst the lower classes…well, fair enough. At least it constitutes some form of exercise and gets their fast-food bloated carcasses off the sofa and away from the “telly”. I suppose the “barn” where they hold these events probably doubles as the Community Centre/ Food Bank when Wayne and Chantelle aren’t squeezed into their denim cowhand outfits shuffling around more like two old heifers than the cowhands who mind them….although I’m sure the smell is authentic.

    If people wish to dance,they should learn a proper dance..the waltz,a foxtrot etc. Line dancing is for fat Septics and fat British lower-classes. I wouldn’t allow either type into one of my barns.

    Fuck Off.

    • As night follows day, so Mr Fiddler puts the world to rights with his well considered insights.

    • You missed out ‘the twist’ in your list of proper dances Dick.

      Good morning.

      • I bet you know all the moves to “The Rocky Horror Plcture Show”.

        Morning, RTC.

      • I think your missing a trick there MR F.
        Put on a barn dance ,attract fat lazy munters to attend at £10 a pop and when the barn is full have a mysterious fire and barn door jamming at the same time and rid the world of these oiks ,with a profit to boot!

    • I´ve always loathed Fred Astaire with his SS death´s head skull, yellowing ivory keyboard grin and grease-plastered hair. I´d love to tap dance across it with manure-smeared industrial boots impregnated with iron filings, jackhammer his top hat, pour a bucket of hippopotamus placenta over his white tie and ram a rolling pin up his tail.
      It can´t be a coincidence that his name is an anagram of “I arse farted”.

    • What would someone whose dancing experience is limited to grinding up against “Bruce the Bear” at The Blue Oyster’s ” Heels UpSide your head” night while fuelled on poppers and Babycham know of real dancing?
      Stick to “YMCA”,you appalling Man.

      Morning,Krav.

      🙂 .

      • Having seen that I can only come to the conclusion that scat dancing is dancing like you think you’re going to shit yourself.

      • I’ve often wondered what a genetically fucked coot having a seizure would sound like…

  5. Blankets, divorce, dead dogs and depressed truck drivers…country music shite.

    • Bourbon, honky-tonks, shotguns, dirt roads. Must confess to mostly liking country music, better than the shit we have in the mainstream.

  6. Line dancing? Doesnt happen still in uk does it? More something billybob & norma jean do before some crystal meth and klan rally isnt it? No fuck that yank shite, we are englishmen! Morris dancers we are! Happily skip round a maypole but id shit in a 10gallon cowboy hat.

  7. Where is the ‘Cunt Me’ button? I have just listened to the CBI joining in to skew the PM election after their stooge takes Johnson to court and I feel the need for some heavy duty cunting?

  8. I remember being taught some of this redneck bollocks at primary school… Dosey doh an all that… Go fuck yourself.

  9. Do we even get real cowboys and cowgirls anymore or is it all just battery beef in the States now?

    If we still get real ones then I’d be up for watching them line dance, just the once to tick the box, all these fake cunts boil my piss and need to fuck off.

    No, you’re not Bobbie fucking May, you’re Sandra from Crewe who works on the checkout at tesco.

    *I wouldn’t mind a quick 10 mins with the Blonde closest to the camera. Hmmm Lovely!!!*

    • I’ve been out with girls that turned out to be real cows, does that count?

  10. A load of brain dead cunts all doing the same thing at the same time with no talking and no physical contact.
    A bit like eating at McDonalds.

  11. I go LINE dancing every weekend.
    ….different kind of lines though.

  12. Fellow cunters might recall better than I, but wasn’t there a sort of craze/fad for line dancing in the UK sometime in the 90s? I have a vague memory of this happening around the time those Emmerdale Farm shitkickers released their honkytonk charity sileage, and we had that bastard, infernal ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe’ plaguing the radio like aural herpes.

    Of all cultures to bastardize and popularize, barefoot inbred simpleton living is probably the least appealling. If I wanted that then I’d just move to Norwich.

    • I’ve got fucking cotton-eye cunting Joe stuck in my head now.
      ….man that song was annoying.

    • Looking at the lyrics, this guy is so fucking weird, it could have been Catweazle’s half brother. ………

      If it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe
      I’d been married long time ago
      Where did you come from, where did you go?
      Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?
      He came to town like a midwinter storm
      He rode through the fields, so handsome and strong
      His eyes was his tools and his smile was his gun
      But all he had come for was having some fun

      Right Deploy, sing after three.

    • They were cunts then & they are cunts now. I remember it all too well (unfortunately).

    • “aural herpes” – OMG I nearly choked to death munching on some tasty ready salted crisps, I laughed so hard. That’s fucking classic. Cheers Empire.

  13. If line dancing is making a comeback I’m happy I’m in a wheelchair.

    Saying that, just wait for the BBC to show a load of Jut-tooths doing wheelchair line dancing though (the media can never show a wheelchair user without them also having a very obvious learning disability).

  14. I could quite enjoy line dancing if it involved Jezzbollah, Abbopotamus, Reichsmarshall McDonnell, Krankie, Campbell, Soubry, “Lady”Thornberry, Shani Chuckabuttie, Gina fucking Miller & other doing a line dance on the live line of the London Underground Central line.

  15. I have had enough of the blatant disregard for us gays. I am off to my safe space with my Justin Bieber calendar, some GHB and a box of tissues.
    Fucking homophobic that’s what it is.

    • If the GHB makes you forget, will you be doomed to relive your Bieber/Tissues scene ad-infinitum?

  16. No outrageous! Clutch my pearls!

    Justin! How did you get out of those restraints? Also, what do you mean you have an allergy to baby oil? Don’t worry, I have some WD40/rohypnol.

    • When you masturbate over Justin Bieber, do you:
      a) grip your penis and make jerking movements with your hand, or
      b) slide a well-oiled dildo in and out of your rectum?
      I think it’s time you put the record straight (no pun intended)
      As far as line dancing is concerned, it’s very much like any other kind of dancing, people with big stupid grins on their faces with no idea of how utterly fucking stupid they look.

  17. Line Dancing is a deeply sinister activity right up there with the famous Nazi interpretation of the Lambeth Walk. My Cousin actually had line dancing at his wedding but fortunately I was able to escape to freedom, decent food and some booze.

  18. There’s a reason a lot of the SEN teenagers at colleges often display their prowess via this genre of hoofing when forced to perform at community events.

  19. I have had first hand (well second because I only watched in horror) experience of this form of mass hallucination known as line dancing.

    Many moons ago I was on a quick jolly over to the US to meet up with a young lady (nudge nudge wink wink say no more). One evening she took me out to what she described as a country & western bar. Her outfit for the evening should have tipped me off – big black cowboy hat, black suede jacket with those tassel things, black suede skirt and the obligatory boots. No, she didn’t look cute. I wore a normal shirt, normal jeans, normal belt with a normal buckle and my hiking boots. You know, all normal like. I was the only one.

    After the first round had been ordered, I was barely into my second sip of beer when the signal rang out it was time for the line dancing to commence. This was news to me and I point blank refused to move from my seat. Undeterred, she wandered off to the dance floor and joined god knows how many other deranged souls to link arms, shuffle side ways, kick, turnaround and seemingly repeat these mindless moves ad infinitum. It was a shocking display, really quite tragic and I felt embarrassed for them if I’m honest. You know that feeling you get when you know you’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong crowd and every fibre of your being wishes you were somewhere else? That was me times a billion.

    I can’t remember if I slipped her one later that night or later on the same trip, but it was just as underwhelming as my trip to that fucking bar. Never again. All these years later and I live in Texas. Jesus Christ at a rodeo there’s a lot of redneck trash aroun’ these parts, y’all.

  20. Never give a sword to a man who cannot dance. Unfortunately, “line dancing” doesn’t qualify. It is, in truth, a crusty cunt.

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