Selective Griefjackers

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Selective millennial griefjackers are cunts.
OK, all griefjackers are cunts, but this particular breed are the creme de la crap.
It’s quite obvious now that any ‘tributes’ or ‘eulogies’ a deceased celebrity gets all depends on how much social media coverage can be gained from it and how much notice and ‘likes the ‘grieving’ cunts get. A perfect example is the relatively recent deaths of Caroline Flack and Scott Walker. Flack was a typical talent-free famous for being famous modern celebrity and reality TV show ‘star’. Walker was a genius and one of the greatest artists of his time. But apart from one or two mentions from real musicians, Scott barely got a word, either on shitty social media or the national media. But she goes from in trouble with the law tabloid fodder to Saint Caroline Of The Blessed Flack Of Arc is suddenly elevated to Lady Di (which was bad enough) status and a nation ‘grieves’. The current passing of the likes of Norman Hunter, Eddie Large, Honor Blackman and Tim Brooke Taylor have gone by without hardly a word. I mean, why are the social media mongs going to bother about the likes of them when they will get more ‘followers’ and ‘points’ by clapping the NHS? It has nothing to do with paying tributes or grief. It is all about what’s trendy and what these attention seeking cunts can get out of it. And although the likes of Bites Yer Legs , the gorgeous (as was) Avenger and the late Goodie are virtually ignored, just wait and see what happens when the next Z-Lister or Love Island cunt pops their clogs. Jesse ‘by name and by nature’ Lingard will be ‘paying tribute’ for a start. Lingard shamelessly and publicly wet himself over Flack (a person he had never met), but I bet he doesn’t even know who Norman Hunter was. Cunt.

Nominated by Norman

69 thoughts on “Selective Griefjackers”

  1. Spot on Norman. You have to be seen to care and seen to be grieving.
    Nothing matters more than showing everyone just what a beautiful human being you really are.

    • Which works fine until some Brexiteer says something innocuous online and you show just what an intolerant, foaming left-wing, Remainer cunt you actually are.

  2. WTF is a griefjacker? Someone who jacks off over grief??

    • A cunt who hijacks a death or a funeral for their own attention seeking and virtue signalling purposes. See Lady Di, 9/11, Amy Shitehouse, That cricketer bloke, St Carolines of Aherne and Flack, David Bowie and so on…

      • Norman@
        Funnily there you named 2 slebs I was genuinely bit gutted about!
        Caroline Aherne an Bowie.
        Didnt go on telly crying though or hysterical on facefook.

      • At least Bowie was a true artist. I was a bit choked when Sir Matt went in 94 and Brian Greenhoff in 2013. Was also genuinely sad when I heard Stevie Marriott had burned to death in 91 As a Scott Walker and Walker Brothers fan of old I was pretty sickened how the great man was virtually ignored by today’s media cunts. Then again, Scott wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

      • Ah. In a similar vein to the spaz society’s weekly 8pm saucepan-banging ritual to come tonight then…

  3. I bumped into Jesse in the street a couple of weeks ago.
    I said “can you sign my shirt Jesse?”
    “Sure” he said, “have you got a pen?”
    “Oh shit”……. so I threw myself on the ground, rolled around moaning and crying.
    “How is that going to get a pen?” he said.
    “Well it works for you, you cheating cunt.”

    • 99% of cunts who play a game for a living are exactly the same; too much money and too much time on their hands in between “working” for an hour each weekend. The pointlessness of their lives leads them to be soshal meeja retards.

  4. The last dead sleb I gave a shit about I named my new wellies after him. I called them George and Micheal because they kept getting sucked off in the bog.

    • You’ll be pushing out JR Cuntley, our resident comedian on here with funny jokes like that.

      Nice one

  5. The problem with social media is that it’s full of cunts, I think that just about covers it.

    ISAC is the opposite, it’s full of cunters

  6. Griefjacking, ☺
    That an faux concern when someones ready for pegging it.
    Disgusting behaviour, not just slebs either, ordinary cunts do it, look at the hysteria over Hewitts mummy Di.
    Bit undignified isnt it?
    From someone who eats fish n chips in their undercrackers it must be bad.
    Anyway, yeah. Cunts.

    • And where were they when Laughing Gravy the goldfish went to the great aquarium in the sky?
      Where were all the tearful facebook tributes? Candlelight vigils? When is “clap for carp” day?
      Monsters, one and all! 😢

  7. I would be utterly distraught as well as upset if Mel & Sue popped their clogs – especially if they went together like on a skiing holiday when the fell of a mountain – utterly – just imagine the beeb would have set to replay all of their ‘stars in your eyes’ moments for ever ….. cunts

  8. It’s an era thing. Most of the cunts who use social media don’t have a clue about older generations and what they have brought to the table of entertainment etc. Most talent nowadays is a beauty thing rather than actual talent. I however do have a face for radio.

      • They want a full treatment those soppy cunts.
        A good dose of Kissing The Gunners Daughter then a salt bath and finally the oven.
        Channel 5 at 8.
        Fuck that muffery.

      • Good morning, all. Kissing the Gunners Daughter? Fuck me, I haven’t heard that nautical term in decades! Not an old salt, by any chance, Unkle?

  10. There’s a football site I used to post on where, every time some sleb wanker dies, this prick starts an RIP thread praising the cunt to the skies. He changes his avatar to a photo of the corpse until the next stiff turns up his toes.
    Naturally I used to rip the piss out of the arselicker. They gave me 3 warnings about my “insensitivity” before they banned me for life. He’s still there churning out the same old bollocks. Fucking wankers.

    • I would never be part of any site that accepted people like me! 🤣
      Despicable, I am.

  12. The professional mourner who really boils my piss is the erudite and portly Stephen Gladys Fry – his pious outpourings and insights on people who died when he was still in nappies is nauseating – have you ever seen his “great” obit of Tony Hancock (it went out years ago on Channel 4?) He spoke as if he had known Hancock for decades. In fact Hancock died in 1968, when Fry was 11.

    Horrible great streak of shit (Fry that is, not Hancock)

    • All about Alistair Sim and (something like) ‘he found happiness in later life, I do hope so’.

      And when Peter Cook died all over the telly…but you weren’t even a part of his era?

  13. All went downhil when Princess Di croaked it. Every cunt trying to jump on the grief bandwagon to feel ‘part of something’. ‘Thoughts and prayers are with you, hun’ and that shite. Crying fucking buckets over some cunt you’ve never met. Pathetic. Go to a bastard childrens hospice, you cunts, or do a fucking transfer with a kid, with me, to one. That’ll give you something to genuinely cry about. I know I fucking have.

    Fuck right off. Boil my fucking piss, cunts like that. Topping nom, Norman.

      • Yoko Fucking Ono did not help matters (did she ever?). Not giving the man a funeral. No closure for his son, ex-wife, friends, relatives, bandmates. Ono gave a masterclass in grief jacking in December 1980. Ringo flew to New York to console Ono and when he said ‘I know how you feel’ all she could say to the lad was ‘No you don’t!’ and apparently she did not even phone McCartney about it. As far as she was concerned, John was ‘her’s’ and nobody else counted. A bit of a cunt, as they say.

    • I remember I was working on my car and heard on the radio that Princess Died had, indeed, died. I remember my exact thoughts at the time – “no surprise there”. The ‘fragile People’s Princess’ wasn’t going to make old bones. If not a tragic accident, then Anorexia or HIV would be her likely demise. She wasn’t one for a burger and fries, but loved a bit of assorted cock.

      The Blaircunt was the wankstain who coined ‘the People’s Princess’.

      I couldn’t stand the mawkish tidal wave of grief. The very same people grieving uncontrollably, clutching teddy bears and candles whilst stood in Hyde Park would likely give fewer shits about someone in their family who passed away. 1997 – the year of the griefjacker.

      Don’t get me on that fat cunt Fat Reg and his Candle in the Wind. More like Gerbil up the Arse. Cunt.

      • I went to work in the morning (Abroad) and a group of concerned locals approached me with designated spokes person who broke the news.
        Oh ok I said and carried on, they stood there in amazement, then a few questions, like are you ok?
        I had to stop them, there I explained that in my opinion she was not a “Royal” nor was she important, she only came out as the peoples Princess when her marriage was well and truly fucked, before then she did not give a fuck about aids victims, landmines or any other shit apart from her next dress and glamour ball.
        That shut them up and gave them a very real perspective about rather a shallow individual.
        (having said that I would have back door burgled her in her prime)

      • Interestingly, Fat Reg dusted off the same tune when Mother Theresa died a week after Diana Spencer. Of course, he had to rename it “Sandals in the Bin”.

      • Eltons rewriting the lyrics to be played after his own death

        ‘Gerbil up my rim’ or something similar

  14. I listened to a very good program on the radio where they were talking about funeral gate crashers, one person was recently bereaved and the other was a vicar.
    The vicar was saying that he started to notice familiar faces at funerals, initially he was sympathetic and assumed that they were just having a bad run of luck in the friends department and then he started to notice that the buffet sharks were filling handbags and using the occasions as a free meal.
    The best one was the lady that on the announcement of her fathers death in the times received lots of letters from people she had never heard of expressing sympathy.
    She put in another obituary for a fictional character even going as far as creating a wiki profile of a non existent institute that the fictitious dead person was a generous benefactor too.
    Again she received a flood of sympathetic letters from the fictional persons friends and was able to cross reference a few of them to people who also knew her father.
    They were all told to politely fuck off and were not welcome at the buffet.
    Apart from that I have nothing to say ( well I was very upset when my gerbil died, but I was about 7 (No I DID NOT STICK IT UP MY ARSE))

      • Not my words I am afraid, twas the priest who coined the phrase “Buffet sharks, stuffing their handbags with sausage rolls”.
        Shame, I do say “Fuck” a lot so you can quote me on that if you like.

    • Funerals in Brazil are usually held within a day of the death and a kind of wake to pay last respects called a “velório” is held a few hours after the death. These often attract ghouls who rush in and have a good look at the corpse which is often in an open casket. I once told two people to fuck off after they entered the room in the hospital where one of my relatives had just died and her body was still in the bed. Cemeteries are open to the public obviously and layabouts and scumbags are often hanging around them looking in at the velórios and internments.

  15. The worst year for this was 2016.

    Yes, it was the year of the glorious Referendum and later Trump pissing on every wanker in ‘murrica. Every single time anybody died that year the cunts , usually the Remainers, wailed, “Ohh, can this year become any worse…!” They were attempting to belittle the Brexit result of course and whined and whinged like amputees for the rest of the year.

    I fucking loved it.

    • True, Captain. I remember that daft slag Miley Cyrus bawling like a babby when Big Don put it right up them snowflake SJW cunts and celebrity tosspots.

      Still, Miley bawling makes a change from Miley balling, I suppose.

  16. Wait until Sain Greta of Icebergs kicks the bucket (sooner rather than later, some would say). There will be a global pandemic of public grieving & misery that will make the Rinky Dink flu disaster look like a picnic.

    Social media will go into meltdown as the GJs try to outdo each other about how much they will miss the little screachy munchkin.

    the BBC will demand a national 5 minute silence (or jazz hands perhaps). If she’d been a dark key they would have demanded 10 minutes silence, of course.

    The Guardian will be gushing with platitudes from Page 1 to Page 49, with cunts saying how wonderful she was (emphasising the SHE bit naturally)

    And expect a Hollywood film in tribute, starring the usual woke cunts, with a special guest appearance from Emma “Boeing 747” Thompson.

    Meanwhile some clever cunt called Sir Tim Berners-Lee, also snuffs it (he hasn’t yet of course), but no one’s heard of him, so barely gets a mention anywhere. And yet he’s the cunt that invented the WWW – perhaps the most significant global invention in modern times, allowing all those GJs to post their shit on social media thanks to him – but no one gives a shit because he ain’t no sleb or woke cunt.

    Funny old world

    • Sounds great, can’t wait! As it’s unlikely I will outlive St Greta that cunt Blair will do.
      I must be able to last longer than Hezzelslime so that bastard is favourite.

      • Tarzan already looks like he has been dug up several times. St Greta is unstable with all her issues and ‘isms’ wouldn’t be surprised if she did something stupid in later life.

    • When that odious little cunt, Saint Greta of Thunderclap Newman Spazberg snuffs it, it will make Lady Di’s send off look like the Potter’s Wheel Interlude…

      • If you all think things went over the top with Lady Di, just wait till you see me after Gaylord Adonis goes to the great referendum in the sky. I shall wear a black veil, and stand outside Broadcasting House with my tearstick, determined to share my grief with the nation. “He was a great man. Well a very small man pretending to be great. He is, indeed, a dead loss to public life”. I will urge Dame Kweer’s fruity gentlemen to mince tall. And don’t brood Lloyd, you’ll get lines.

      • Slightly off topic but on the news they keep saying how ‘forensic’ Sir Keir’ Starmers’s mind is. I’ve heard it about twenty times-‘He has a very forensic mind’.

        I keep seeng him in my minds eye with x-ray eyes, a probe on his forehead like a dalek.

      • Not that forensic – he can’t appear to determine why Labour got crucified at the last election, unable to forensically ascertain that no sane person would vote for a Marxist Jew hating sect of evil and that appointing people like Angela “Stella and cock” Rayner and Red Becky of the docks will guarantee a lifetime of wandering the political wilderness.
        Glad I’m not that forensic, because he seems to me like a spoilt chubby sulky rich kid with a nasal whine that goes through me like a drill – a perfect Man to lead the party of the working class to a storming victory! 😁
        Starmer is a plastic Teflon Tony copy and a joke – Boris the traitor must be laughing his arse off, assuming he is out of bed yet of course.

  17. I’ve always shared my admiration of Scott Walker with you Norman. A very talented man, who being a bit of a recluse was the antithesis of all this shit. A very handsome man (NIAGWYU) Who I likened myself to in my youth.

    • Nice one, Bertie, If I looked like a young Scott Walker, I’d have pulled more birds than I could have coped with.

      The man was a genius. the first four solo albums and Nite Flights being the glory years. The Electrician has never been bettered.

      • I’m going onto Prime music now to listen to a couple of those I’ve not heard. Thanks Norm. 👍🏻

      • Agree Norman. Nite Flights was his /their crowning achievement. Out-Bowied Bowie. 👍

      • The Drift is ace, I agree.
        Tilt is another good ‘un. Farmer In The City being a true Walker classic.

  18. Apart from my closest family and friends counted on half a hand I could not give a shit who dies from a famine in Africa, a tsunami in Japan or a pandemic in the uk. I dont care. No one else does either, If they examine their fake emotions carefully.

  19. I still mourn the Princess of Hearts. She was so hard working and did so much good in the world. I remember her meeting a landmine injured piccaninny and gently asking ‘How many legs did you used to have?.
    Such compassion. She should be canonised. Perhaps as the patron saint of drunk drivers.

    • I wonder if the piccaninny replied, “I used to have two but I couldn’t open them as wide or as often as you.”

  20. I remember how much work for the British working class Lady “Arab wang please” Di did. Ah that’d be nothing as it wasn’t a newsworthy event. It didn’t play to the photo op and one upmanship over her Sloane ranger slags.
    The Flack woman; never heard of it and had to discreetly ask what it was. I thought ” why the grieving”. Still no answer.
    Scott Walker was and always was a musical genius. Far more talented than the Thin White Puke. Again another one that the Guardian and readers pissed their pants when he died.
    Anyway let’s get the footy back up and running and have some high end exits from the Earth.
    Fucking over paid pricks.

  21. I was pressured to sign a “Book of grief”, In fact I got in to trouble over it.
    Eastern europeans seem to have a system where by when a dignitary dies official buildings have books where you can jot your thoughts on the deceased (Nice ones on pain of death).
    Any way Franjo died, and they had a book and I was invited on numerous occasions to write something in it, I do not hold up with the tradition of people become nicer when they are dead (Less troublesome yes, nicer no).
    So I had rather an awkward day fobbing various officials off as they “Invited me” to sign the book.
    It did not do me any favours I can tell you, but it was better than what I would probably writen.

  22. Scott Walker was one of the greatest singers of the 20th century. Such a smooth baritone voice.

    Seems to me that older stars who pass away get less coverage because they mean little or nothing to the social media / millennial generation who only care about their own age group. They have little regard for history. Ed Sheeran would produce a massive fuss if he went yet in terms of musical talent he couldn’t hold a candle to Scott. I was devising a family quiz the other day and wanted to take two songs from each decade going back to the 60s but I could find no decent SONGS at all from the last 10 years that could be identified from the opening guitar chords. This can’t just be due to my age.

  23. Good cunting Norman. I fucking hate these cunts climbing on the band wagon for an opportunity of self satisfaction and virtue. Cunts.

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