Maybe it’s because I’m getting a bit crotchety because of the lockdown, but I’m getting a bit pissed off with the relentless barrage of dross, profiteering, eulogosing, and tasteless advertising and lack of any proper news other than this virus site.

Anyway, there’s a list of things that, quite frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck about :

Dead people : Very sad and I feel for their families, but they weren’t all perfect and, frankly, some of them were right cunts. In any case, there’s more of them every time the news comes on, and it simply isn’t news.

Supermarkets : Sick and tired of being told how they’re doing oh so much to keep us safe and well fed when what they’re actually doing is hiking their prices and making money.

Sport : It’s all been cancelled. Thank fuck for that. I’d be grateful if it stayed that way, especially football and the Olympics

Harry and Meghan : Nobody gives a fuck so just shut up and bugger off. Permanently.

Online shopping : Amazon are making a fortune. I waited three weeks for a tin of Hammerite while they keep telling us how wonderful they are. Food shopping? You must be joking. Have you tried getting a slot? Meanwhile they keep telling us how they working really really hard to keep us fed.

We’re all in it together : Like fuck we are. Some people are doing very nicely out of the pandemic. For example Jeff Bezos (Amazon), up $25billion ; MacKenzie Bezos (Amazon), up $8.6billion ; Elon Musk (Tesla and SpaceX), up $5billion : Eric Yuan (Zoom), up $2.58billion ; Steve Ballmer (Microsoft), up $2.2billion

Social distancing : A good idea and I try to adhere to it, which is why it boils my piss when I see holier than you Tesco’s delivery van with two people in it. They only needed one before the virus so what the fuck is going on?

Charity appeals : Not only the endless begging in every ad break but telethons like that Big Night In and that crappy in home concert. It’s cringeworthy shit. And then to make it worse I hear the government pledge to match donations. So I give them fuck all and HMG gives them money from my taxes. Fuck ’em and the horse they rode in on.

Captain Tom : No. Really. I’m sure he’s a great guy but millions from walking round your garden and a real crap record that goes straight to number one? You have got to be joking.

Remainers : FFS we’ve had a referendum and a general election and years of endless crap over Brexit and now the same old tired cunts are trying to use a virus pandemic to extend the transition period.

Holiday companies : I’ve had two holidays fucked up so far and the cunts expect me to accept a credit note when I’m legally entitled to a full refund. And to top it all off, I’m getting bombarded with emails and mail shots trying to get me to book another one.

Testing : Maybe I’m missing something but it takes 3 days to get a result so all the test will tell you it’s if you had it 3 days ago. If you didn’t then you’ve had three da assures to catch so exactly how does this establish if you are safe to return to work?

Isolating on line : So folk like the Beckhans are having a great time isolating on their Cotswold estate. David Geffin is quarantined on his superyatch in the Grenadines. Branson is safe and sound on his private island. The list is endless. Well, good for you. Now shut the fuck up and stop rubbing our noses in it!

I’m sure there’s other stuff – apart from Auto fucking Sergei – pissing me off at the moment too, and I’m sure people reading this will be only to happy to add to the list…

Nominated by Dioclese

Hi a cunting of gargantuan epic proportions is called for another labour supporting councillor who claimed Boris Johnson getting Chinky flu was a publicity stunt, for fucks sake , what is wrong with these arsehole stains? Also the leader of the RMT union held a party to celebrate Boris getting ILL, cunts of the best quality

Nominated by Sidthesexistforeskin

BAME

Black, Asian and minority ethnic. Which translates as skin colour.
What an insult to Brits who happen to have a suntan. It is entirely discriminatory and confers a convenient label. You are not British you are BAME.
South Africa was widely condemned for classifying it’s population by skin colour as was the Southern states of the US. But it seems ok in modern UK to use this term. How fucking woke can it be using a discredited form of discrimination in a multi cultural society?
I suggest it suits the liberal left to use identity labels and invoke victimhood at the expense of British society in general. And it serves to marginalise the majority.

Nominated by Cuntstable Cuntbubble

A minority Cunting for having your cake and eating it.

No, it isn’t Brexit it’s BAME!

Looking back over the years linking ethnicity to anything was seen as taboo! the media, the political elite, the left wing wankers and liberal retards all shy away from even hinting at ethnicity when there are bombings, grooming gangs and stabbings.

Now they can’t help themselves, every cunt under the sun is up in arms because BAME are dying disproportionately in relation to their numbers in the community.
Calls are going out to link Covid deaths to ethnicity to find out why.

All sorts of reasons are being muted, socioeconomic, high numbers in the health service, poor general health, in fact anything the collective concerned cunts think of.

Ethnicity seems to be a double edged sword, only use the sharp edge when needed

CUNTS.

Nominated by Sick of it

Lockdown Dog Days

‘Well it’s debts and taxes, and pains and woes
Aches and miseries, that’s how it goes
And now I’m getting a cold in the nose
Life gets tedious, don’t it?’

So sang Tex Williams back in the 40s, but as legendary radio show host Seamus Android (of ‘Round the Horne’ fame) would have put it, ‘how true those words are, even today’.
I don’t know about you guys out in IsACland, but it’s getting so that I can barely contain my apathy in these lockdown dog days, listening to the clock ticking and dreading the moment when the lurgy might strike. It’s a bit like the old adage about war, I suppose; it’s long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of terror.
I lounged in bed this morning, letting my anticipation build to fever pitch at the prospect of a shave. When I was seeing how long I could make my breakfast coffee last, the phone rang. Oh the buzz, but it was just some old dear who’d dialled the wrong number. That could well have been my excitement quota for the day, but then the postman arrived. What had he brought us to lighten the spirits? Why, a letter from the building society telling us that they’ve slashed the interest rates on our ISAs, the cunts.
But there was always the prospect of some stimulating conversation from ‘Er Indoors; I could easily stand to hear again about how my little princess can’t get out to the hairdressers. Of course she needs to go shopping for new shoes, but tragically that’s out too. She’ll just have to make do with one of the thirty-odd pairs that are stacked up in the bedroom cupboard. We’ve all got to make sacrifices in these trying times.
Naturally enough, she’s busy finding things to occupy me. Apparently ‘the Devil makes work for idle hands’, so I could do some of the things I’m always talking about doing, by which she means some of the things SHE’S always talking about me doing. Clean out the loft, dear? I’ll think about making a start…
Tell you what my little flower, why don’t YOU make yourself useful? You could get in the kitchen and make some lasagne for tea, and dig out a bottle of Pinot. While you’re at it, you can be thinking about providing some soldier’s comforts later, to bolster flagging morale about the place. Meanwhile, I’ll have a walk down the front garden and watch the sagebrush blowing down the street. I might even spot a curfew breaker that could be grassed up to the rozzers for the guilty pleasure that would offer. Then I’ll come back and dig out a film. ‘The Longest Day’ might be appropriate, or perhaps ‘The Great Escape’ could give us a few ideas.
Oh for fuck’s sake, an e-mail’s arrived from our daughter. ‘Dad, I’m not feeling well; dry cough and breathlessness, and feeling exhausted. I think I’ve got it. Kids missing you and mum terribly’. Christ on a bike, where’s my Glenfiddich? Lockdown dog days, let the good times roll.

Nominated by Ron Knee

Self Barbering

Reals cunts live alone. If you have some other person who is prepared to live in your loathsome, insufferable presence, you’re hardly a true cunt. I am a cunt.
. Yet, I am also folically fortunate so whilst the economy and our liberty shrinks around us, my hair continues to flourish, with wanton disregard for the lockdown rules or forced inability to visit a barber and no “other half” to attempt a ham-fisted hacking at my greying locks.
I am aware that some of you cunts can get by with a quick wipe over with a damp cloth, or a cursory rub with some Duraglit over your sparsely populated dome but I have had to resort to drastic measures. Following this mornings self administered hackings, I have gone “full cunt”, in that not only am I one but I now also look one. I look like someone has hammered a bowler hat onto my head, then unscrewed it to remove it.

Obviously I can’t see around the back of my head (but frankly wouldn’t recognise it as mine if I could – who would FFS ? When the barber holds up the mirror to let you see the back of your head, I have always thought that could be a photo of any cunt’s head for all I know… I digress). Problems with self-barberism include clippings of hair down the krunders, random chunks of hair missing altogether, the possibility of gouging a divot in the noggin, losing an eyebrow / earlobe or two.
Any other cunts on here given it a go ?

Nominated by Cunt Reviled