The Isle of Wight council

I would like to nominate the Isle of Wight council. I had reason to write to their minister of beaches with the following communication.

“Having dragged myself away from the slums of Croydon as soon as I could, by choice, I have spent my whole adult life by the sea, and now live in Sandown. I feel very privileged to go on my 5k run along the seafront.
Between the months of September to May it is very pleasurable.
Wait, I hear you say, what about the months of June, July and August? Warm days and pretty girls must surely be nice. In deed that’s true. Unfortunately, that pleasure is more than offset by a pest that blights England’s promenades. Fat people.
They sit there with their staple diet of a polystyrene vat of cheesy chips, a 99 with two flakes and a two litre bottle of coke. This is not per family, its each. The ones that cover up are bad enough because inevitably there is a roll of blub sticking out from under their shirt. The ones that do not cover up are, quite frankly, disgusting. Rolls of lily-white beef dripping on show to all. Thighs that could sink a small cruise liner. Where is their self-respect? I think everyone looks better with a slight suntan. This sub species of humanity does not tan. Maybe the lard is an effective sun blocker, so adding to the revulsion.
I have come up with a solution. Perhaps I could visit your offices to discuss implementation, and possibly licencing the system out to other resorts.
I noticed that there are signs indicating dog free beaches. This is commendable, although if it was up to me, the whole country should be dog free. This got me thinking though, why not have fat free beaches. It would considerably improve the beach experience, and, once the word gets out, would increase tourism. I think the signs would have to be heavy handed to get through, something like –

I thank you for your consideration in this matter.
Kind regards
Cunts n Roses”

Did I get invited to their offices? Did I fuck. I got this.

“Dear Mr CnR,
Thank you for your suggestion.”

Nominated by Cunts n Roses

49 thoughts on “The Isle of Wight council

  1. I would just add, absolutely under no circumstances whatsoever should any fat bird be allowed to be uncovered anywhere and not allowed on any beach, in fact no birds over 45 fat or not (exceptional circumstances apply) should be allowed to wear a bikini

    I think that covers it.

    • have you seen that TV advert with a hugely fat lady of colour in a swimsuit. Made me sick.

      • It came on while I was eating my fuckin dinner. Took Mrs. Zilla ages to pick the bits of pasty off the wall.
        Is it Flabbott?

  2. Well, it could be a lot worse. If you were further east you would be having rubber boats , full of camel herders, washing up on those beaches every day. You’d be begging to get those free spending fat chavs back then.
    As you come from Croydon you will be well aware that Lunar House is the distribution centre for peacefuls all over the country. We can send you over a few ferry loads to start you off.
    How many mosques have you got on IOW?

    • Thankfully there are none here, at least not in the sense of a dedicated building akin to a church, at least not since I last seen anyway. There is I believe at least 1 community centre that they use as one though, you can see it’s definitely a long way from being a ‘stan still, but it’s not totally free of the disease either.

      Reminds me of an event here that made the news some time ago, you all ought to get a kick out of it.
      There was a young girl, one early morning, before school I think on a paper round or some such. Anyway, she was followed by a male in a vehicle who tried to coerce her into his vehicle. The news article had a unique way of describing this man’s appearance though, see for yourselves how they decided to do that.

    • It’s not the ones to the east that should concern you. It’s the home grown ones crossing from Portsmouth on li-los that’ll strike fear in your hearts.

  3. My missus was prancing up and down the beach in her new bikini when she said, “I’ve lost a stone, can you see a difference?”

    I bent down, picked up a shiny pebble, walked to the waters edge and threw it as far as I could into the ocean.

    “You see this beach,” I said, “It’s lost a stone, can you see a difference?”….

  4. I think you’ll find the answer in the photo. There are at least two fat cunts on the council. I must admit though, when my children were little, I used to enjoy visiting the I.O.W. Your nom has brought back many happy memories. However, has it crossed your mind that many of these Grockles might be on an away day trip from Croydon sponsored by the charity “Stabbing Relief?”

  5. Mrs N still cuts a dash in a swimming cossie, but we’d never go to the Isle of fucking Wight….

  6. Looking at that photo the IOW must be the land that time forgot. As the great Jon Snow would say “i’ve never seen so many white faces in one place.”
    We can soon change that and get rid of the porky holiday makers at the same time. 😁 👩🏿‍🔧🧕🏽🤵🏾 🇩🇿🇨🇨🇹🇷

      • Forgot to mention, for those who haven’t heard of Mr Dyke, that he is one of the UK’s foremost intellectual giants, second only to Noel Edmunds. A Guardian reader since birth, he also has a speech impediment. Goes with the territory.

    • The I.O.W. is like Norfolk in that it has been accused of ‘inbreeding’. Three years ago the Ofsted chairman had to resign for calling the Isle of Wight ‘a ghetto full of inbreeding.’ Apparently they can’t attract doctors or teachers to the island. The gentleman’s name was – ‘Hoare’ who was born on the island. You couldn’t make it up.

      • You blow up the tree and then out of the leaves you make a dress for your wife who’s also your brother….

        — Partridge (when he was funny)

    • Visited there last year and your right Freddie it’s stuck in the 70s.
      Stuck on a bus for over 3 hours trying to find a pub with a TV.
      Finally found one in Newport after circumnavigating 3/4 of the island. The game we wanted to watch was long time finished by the time we found a decent pub.

      • I remember many years ago on the island, towing my caravan – alright Jeremy Clarkson, Fuck off, I already know what you think of caravans. Anyhow, I was following a traction engine which then stopped to fill up with water from a brook for about 20 minutes! Alright Jeremy stop fuckin’ laughing. Nearly missed the ferry home!

        ps just let anyone and I mean anyone, put forward a cunting for caravans and I’ll be ready for you!

  7. Fat chavs are the curse of the English seaside now. We were in Brighton a few weeks ago and there were enough of them mincing around to cause the Pier to collapse under the weight. They wobble around stuffing their gobs with chips, greasy donuts and drinks piled up with whipped cream. They are usually covered with tattoos and have half a dozen Ill mannered kids in tow.

    • Right about the chavscum… Those cunts who go on a blazing beach dressed like a Dalek crossed with a post box also are fucking stupid… Are we allowed to say that, or is that ‘vile’ peacefulaphobic Tommyspeak?

  8. I see a certain Monsieur Platini is in the shit (at last) over his dodgy doings with Qatar and the World Cup… The frog’s legs won’t be kicking the peas off the plate this time…

    That said, oil slick Lineker’s pompous sighing over the matter is quite laughable… Junk food advertising super-injunction BBC gravy train Twitter blocking subverting democracy Mr clean, eh?….

    • I’d much rather see Gary Taxdodger banged up than the snail eater. What a cunt he is.

      • And Platini was a superb player… That France side with Tigana, Giresse, Six, Battiston (Schumacher, you dirty cunt) was ace…

        Lin-acre (as Micky Channon used to say) was a goal hanger, a piss poor Greavesie who couldn’t come near to Platini as a footballer…

      • I remember Platini (and Boniek) running United ragged when they played Juve in 84 (ECWC semis)… I also recall Didier Six turning out for Villa around that time… A handy player, he was…

        I always viewed St Gary as a goody goody arselick… Give me entertainers and characters like Best, Marsh, Bowles, Hill (Gordon not Jimmy), Currie, Worthington and Cantona any time…

  9. As a dog owner (responsible) I can’t agree with your sentiment about banning dogs from all beaches. I agree the dogshit thing is foul and we always clean up. However, I would rather see a beach full of dogs enjoying themselves than the usual fat cunts down at Southend. The should ban fat people and chavs from May until September. As my friend said recently, you want to feel like a super-model – spend a day at Adventure Island in Southend. The elephant man’s got nowt on it.

    • Having returned from my own holiday in thorness bay IOW and also a responsible dog owner.
      I will say that during my stay I kept the dogs on the lead at all times, this was mainly due to one mudflat an an “estuary” that smelt appalling and was exactly the kind of thing the dogs like to roll in in lieu of fox shit!

      • What is it about fox-shit and dogs? Fox shit needs cunting as it is it such a hideous smell, and the dogs always want to roll in it.

    • Yes, beach dogs are usually fit from chasing seagulls. Just ban the fat dogs. Or, erm, 💡 compel the fat chavs to chase seagulls.

  10. Why would you ever want to live on a lovely old English place like the IOW? Little enrichment by the looks. After all diversity is our strength and i suspect there would be a distinct lack of stabbings/ drug turf wars/ mosques. Where’s the joy in that?

  11. All councils are wank, that’s a given. It’s nice to hear the problems are overseas and not just on the mainland.

    The Isle of Wight deserves a cunting of its own. Red funnel require you to take out a bank loan for a quick trip on the ferry, the whole place is a PO post code, coloured sand can go fuck itself, The needles are windy as fuck, everyone is inbred, the whole thing is literally splitting in to 3 or 4 different bits and I was forced to spend my whole childhood repositioning my portable telly Ariel in the direction of the IOW transmitter, I swear that thing had legs or a fucking railcard or something.

    I will admit that The Co-Operative Cowes sign above the shop always makes me chuckle, it’s nice to know the cows are doing as their told.

    • A: What’s brown and steamy and comes out of Cowes? A: The IOW ferry. Dressed to leave I’m going now

  12. Great nom,
    The fat starts early – parents who feed their offspring a diet of fizzy pop, sausage dummies (an alt name for Greggs shite) , Mc Shit, KFC chiggun and pander to the whims to shut them up would be ok if the same kids ran off the calories and “played” as me and my peers did. Oh no, its back home and 4 hours of brain frying on soshul meedja before bed and awake till daft O’clock as the number of additives has them bouncing all night.
    My eldest girl, a mother of two and still a reasonable size 8, when, at Uni, asked me about my views on fat kids and how would I treat her had she gone to the fat side.
    My answer was simple. I would have taken an inch off the bottom of her bedroom door and locked and boarded her in. Toast would have been the only thing able to pass under her door until she became slim again. I finished the lesson by remarking “if you think I am joking, try upping two dress sizes” 😉

    • Sounds like Renton in “Trainspotting”.
      “Just one more hit. One more fucking hit.”

    • Here we go again – Fatism raises its ugly head again for the second time in a week. I’m sick of it, I tell you. I pay a bloody fortune on VAT for my burgers – more than enough to have covered the cost of my gastric band surgery. Now I’ve got to suffer the indignity of soon paying a sugar tax. Life is alright for scrawny bastards like Rory Stewart – how I’d love to squash the fat cunt’s head by sitting on it – but life is just not fair for us fat twats. Hopefully the NHS is ploughing lots of money in to research for this terrible glandular affliction.

      Yours, fatfully, L. Ardass

      • That should have read “skinny cunt’s head.” Can’t even blame that one on predictive text.

  13. Strange how so many of these well fed humans are the first to shout how poverty is preventing them from feeding their own offspring. I’m guilty of being quite smug about my life long size 8 shapely wardrobe. Maybe I am just lucky and inherited my father’s metabolism. Or just maybe exercising twice daily, oily fish four times a week, fresh chicken twice, and one remaining naughty day is a saving grace. Must admit though, I do look forward to that naughty, eat anything sofa surfing day, once a week.

      • I believe Miss Carpenter, when she passed away, was the same size 4 as Posh Spice, MNC.👩

    • When you first mentioned “naughty day” I assumed you were referring to some sort of preverted* sex act.

      * as the Americans say.

  14. Fat cunts make me fucking puke wherever they are.
    They should render the lot of them down and use them as fuel for the power industry.
    With their prolific breeding rate (fuck knows how, it’s a well-known fact that fat blokes have little/no cocks, and most fat chicks aren’t able to find their burgers without the aid of a mirror or a pissed-up Manc chavcunt), it’d be a self-sustaining source of fuel.
    What’s left could be made into lampshades and dog food.

  15. Careful what you wish for, just wait until the board contains some peaceful’s then you will wish for the good old days.!

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