Eastenders (3)

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What bollocks is this? Who are these cockney white folk? Saafenders more like. ‘It aint legal, Tiff!’ Bollocks.

‘Arr god tellz (sic) it is rrite.’ is more likely.

Where is the peaceful establishment of religion?

Where are the stabbings?

‘Ah’m not ‘ere to star’ a fight.’

Fack off you cunt. Wiv that accent, you belong in Ken’.

‘We arrre togetherrr my habibis’ would be more truthful.

Fuck the BBC.

Nominated by: Dark key cunt

49 thoughts on “Eastenders (3)”

  1. Is this shit still on? More like Islamabadenders if they want to reflect a true to life representation of our glorious capital.

  2. Some years ago I had to watch Bellenders once – it was ordered by a rather pleasant gal I had “less than romantic” plans for..
    The horror has never left me – beetroot boy Phil Mitchell, a skeleton held together with makeup called Angie and a sour faced old hag who used to be in are you being served.
    Can’t really comment on what is currently happening as I am around 32 years behind the times – I imagine it’s now just mosques, fried chiggun shops and 14 year old black dealers stabbing each other – give me a proper soap like Emmerdale Farm with that nice Annie Sugden! 😀

  4. Like any other tired soap opera the world over, I’d imagine NeverEnders follows the same repetitive storylines on an infinite loop, just with the occasional change of characters.

    Utter drivel. Who the fuck watches the depressing shit, and in sufficient numbers to have kept it running for 30 years!?

  5. If it was the English doing it ,it would be called what it is colonization. They are signes in Windows everywhere. “White silence is violence” etc. I’m the minority Cuntos.reminds me of “no blacks,no dogs,no Irish.” . Should have made that the policy of the country.

    • You mean to tell me you’ve never fancied jellied eels?. Cor blimey guv you’re a wrong’un and no mistakin.

  7. I say make Dark key cunt the man who does the story line, with L.L and M.N.C as assistant writers. Lets say 1/2 a million a year each. Fucking quality story lines then. I may even watch it. I know it would improve the insipid shite at the moment.

    • No offence to the suggested writing team, but a half blind ape flinging his shit at a keyboard could come up with better scripts than the current DeadEnders staff.

    • Please, let me give them a starter for 10:

      Episode 1:

      The queen Vic is now a mosque for the local ISIS chapter with the flat upstairs serving as their bomb making and beheading instruction centre. Now owned by the red bearded Mr. Mohammed and his wife (at least we think it is his wife. Could be anything under that patio umbrella).

      The cafe is now a 24hr fried chiggun shop, which also serves as the central distribution point for all of the crack and smack in East London.

      Dr. Legg’s surgery (now owned by Dr Mohammed) is now a graffiti covered dump with bars on the windows, which specialises in FGM and dodgy doctor’s notes to give to the DSS to help illegal immigrants avoid any kind of work.

      The little garden in the square is a no go area after dark, unless you want to watch a bunch of grown men shagging each other in the bushes. All of the benches are covered in rainbow flags to keep the LBGTMGBGT contingent happy.

      Ali’s cab office is still a cab office, but now specialises in picking up under age girls and getting them stoned for the local muslim grooming gangs.

      In the flats across the square, Mrs. Omfufu (a single mum) is about to give birth to her 13th child. (Plot twist – this one is actually hers and not ‘borrowed’ from someone else to up the welfare claim).

      Dot Cotton still lives there, but is scared to leave the house and is rarely seen. (She gets killed in a driveby in episode 1 when she bravely leaves the house after dark for 20 Lambert and Butler).

      Two postcode gangs now run the square from opposite sides. DeShawn has a beef with Treyvon in the first episode and gets more perforations that a PG tips tea bag for dissing Treyvon’s new trainers in an ill advised drill rap video, the trainers are snydes off of one of the market stalls.

      The market stall where Treyvon stole his new trainers from gets raided by HMRC in a £50m VAT fraud sting. There is also the question of how a market stall needs 15 managers, all imported from Pakistan.

      As Dot Cotton’s cold lifeless body is covered over and picked up by the ambulance crew, old Mr. Iqbal who has been in the country illegally for 30 years and still doesn’t speak English hoiks up his dress and takes a shit on the pavement right outside Dot’s house.

      Bom bom bom bom bom…..closing credits.

      • You forgot to mention the new “affordable” housing development filled with Pavels and Svetlanas who have gone into drugs, people trafficking and general misery.

        Good post though…Is a Cunt old style.

      • …and there’s a surprise cameo appearance by Suckdick Khan, exclaiming “diversity is our strength” while asking the bodyguard he is hiding behind, to adjust his oversized kevlar jacket.

      • OK Techno, I’ll run with that.

        Episode 2:
        It is election day in Walford and London’s glorious leader and son of a bus driver, Sadiq Khan is visiting the Square to drum up support. (Mr. Khan won the election last year with a stonking and totally legit 114% of the vote in his favour).
        Mr. Khan’s armoured Range Rover convoy pulls up outside a one bedroom flat in the square, where 18 Somali illegal immigrants future Khan voters live. At least according to the electoral roll.
        One of Mr. Khan’s heavies knocks on the door to the flat and a stoned, khat chewing Somali face pops out of a window. “Click click durk (whistle) durk durk click” says the face.
        “I hear you are having a problem with overcrowding” Says the heavy in a slow, Low tone so as the illegal voter can understand the Queen’s English and not become agitated and stabby.
        “Click”??? Says the face.
        “FFS, I’ll get the council funded translator” says the heavy. As the wasted Somali fizzog disappears and the sound of a toilet being flushed several times can be heard in the background.
        Meanwhile, Ethel and little Willie are in the kitchen having their morning brew when the front door gets kicked in and 16 burley TSG officers in riot gear storm the house, grab Ethel by the hair, smash her face into the kitchen table numerous times and stamp a still sleepy little Willie to death for being dangerously out of control in a public space.
        Turns out Ethel was grassed up by Mr. Mohammed, the illegal Somali across the square for daring to voice a dangerous opinion. Seems Ethel dared to mention in public that diversity seems to be a code word for having less white people around. “All the people round here used to be white and polite and we used to help each other” Mused Ethel out loud. Unaware that she was only adding fuel to the fire.
        Mr. Mohammed had also taken exception to little Willie, who smells better and has a higher IQ than that of Mr. Mohammed and the rest of his inbred family combined.
        As Ethel is led handcuffed out of the shattered front door, a TSG officer ‘accidentally’ bounces her bloodied face off of the door frame. The other, more diverse locals cheer and spit in her general direction for her heinous race hate crimes.
        The lovely Mr. Khan puts a compulsory purchase order on Ethel’s place and immediately moves the 18 strong smelly Somali family in. To show their gratitude, the family instantly set up a camp fire in the front room and start cooking lunch over it in a large pan, while the younger members of the family marvel at the indoor plumbing, before taking a shit in Ethel’s walk-in bath and helping themselves to the contents of her handbag.
        As a tearful Ethel’s battered face can be seen leaving the Square in the back of the riot wagon, the camera pans across the little garden in the square where an equally tearful and ball gagged Ian Beale is being viciously bummed by a bondage clad ‘bear’ wearing a gimp mask.
        Bom bom bom bom bom…..closing credits (in every other language but English).

      • Odin – you show a worrying and uncomfortably deep knowledge of Eastenders!
        Are you sure you’re not Dot Cotton’s long lost love child?
        😀

      • In all honesty Bertie, I haven’t seen the nightly moanfest that is Eastenders in about three decades.

        My Mum was a real Eastender though.

        The only thing that me and Nick Cotton have in common is that we are both complete cunts. 😁

    • ‘ere, give us a pin’ wiw ya. Oi, give us a pin’ and a pa’i’ of por’ scratchin’, wiw ya! Oi, Ah bin waitin’ fer ay-giz! Cam on Babs, ge’ off the bleedin’ floor aj’ get us s pin’ pur-leaze!, ya lazy caaaaw!

  9. The last time I watched Eastenders was 1998-2002 when I worked in Ankara for the FCO. Back then, episodes were also broadcast in real-time by BBC Prime.

    Obviously, I didn’t actually watch it in the normal way (it’s shit) or on any kind of regular basis. However what the Wikipedia article doesn’t tell you is that FCO-funded BBC Prime had a dual-use, viz steganography. A bit like arranging for Big Ben to strike 13 times – all very James Bond.

    It was extremely challenging but quite good fun to spot the potential messages (and anyway impossible to decrypt without a legend¹). This doesn’t go on much any more; like numbers stations², such secret communication conduits were badly-³obsolescent even twenty years ago. The real-time rediffusion of such programming did provide a modicum of such entertainment; spotting those hidden messages, in rare fallow moments I had in Turkey, was a bit like doing a hard crossword puzzle.

    ¹ a legend, or key known as a “one-time-pad” (OTP) was necessary to actually understand the message.

    ² numbers stations, like the famous Lincolnshire Poacher (qGoogle), were similar, albeit entirely blatant, secret communication channels from the 1940s to relatively recently. As above, straightforwardly deciphered using specific OTP use

    ³ a bit more hyphenation-fun and hypercorrection-games, for the sole delectation of Autie, aka General Cunster (Debunked)

    • If you keep trying to provoke cunters you’ll quickly find yourself going the same way as Robin Bastard (the banned).

      • I don’t keep trying to provoke cunters, but some of them do seem to do quite a good job of that all by themselves. I didn’t know Robin Bastard has been banned, and although I’m not surprised, I couldn’t care less. I do know, however, that many of the main contributors see me as fair game, and I couldn’t care less about that either.

        The fact that those several contributors are antagonistic towards me does not mean I have actually written anything specifically to provoke; they simply don’t like “me”, or my comments. I have no concern about this either. If anything, I only regret their jibes might be a bit less catty and a bit more witty. Fortunately for you, Admin, some of the chief “offenders” seem to have toned down their sniping, and better still most have knocked it off altogether.

        If you’re referring to the above comment about/aimed at “Autie”, aka General Cunster (Debunked) then I have a very different opinion. He is/was (or more accurately he wants/wanted to be) a bully. It has even been suggested in jest that he should be “boxed off” into his own section, a kind of tedious “Trolls’ corner”. In fact, his comments are so relentlessly profuse that the “BLM shit” rapidly became “General Cunster’s corner”, and very tedious it was getting too.

        Depressingly wearisome also, most of the stuff that he regards (rightly or wrongly) as his “domain” is briskly swamped by his overweening presence. It rapidly becomes dull as dishwater, predictable as California weather, and – now the US elections have (almost!) reached their conclusion – as relevant as a Microsoft Windows 98SE textbook.

        In terms of provocation by me, however, I’d refer you to a comment I made here three weeks ago. I shall try hard not to provoke anyone, but I reserve the right to reply to any specific ad hominem aimed at me. Unlike General Cunster (and one or two others) I SHALL NOT, however, escalate the bullshit further and further, desperate to “win the argument” and have the last word.

        I come here for a bit of fun and nothing else. I have no axe to grind with anyone here, and fortunately it seems most contributors feel the same. Good that Admin maintains law and order, without unduly stifling “lively” debate… but fuck me, it must be bloody hard work.

        Enough – you get the idea. This kind of blather is not what I come on isac for. It’s boring as fuck.

  10. If only they let me script the next episode.

    Ian Beale would be mugged and stabbed by some architects. Dot Cotton would be blown up by some peacefuls in the launderette and Danny Dyer would come out as a trannie with the Aids and turn the Queen Vic into a drag act bar. The drum thuds at the end would be when Danny gets an HP sauce bottle stuck up his arse.

    Albert Square would be renamed ‘George Floyd Close’ and they’d only be allowed to sell chiggun, rice and pea and wardemellon at the market.

    The theme choon would be written by Stormzy effing and jeffing about fack da po-lice and da evil white devils innit.

    A 500 foot statue of Lenny Henry would be erected in the square with honkeees forced to kneel in front of it whenever they pass it.

    • Give it a year or two and I can some, if not all of those observations actually happening – and in the real world too!

  11. I have never watched this unadulterated shite nor any soap opera, as it happens, nor do I have any intention of doing so. As entertaining as SID. (Sudden Infant Death).

    Good morning.

  13. Dirty Den was in it last time I saw it.
    The fairy tale world of TV:-

    Eastenders bearing no resemblance to the 3rd world violent shithole most of it seems to be. Hipster bits apart. Dont know which is worse.
    Adverts and presenters representative of a happy clappy world where other than white forms the majority. And black fathers are actually present.

    Stick it up your arse.

  14. Did Admin know Barbara Windsor’s number was up and schedule the EastEnders cunting to coincide with it? 🙂

    (We move in a mysterious way – DA)

  15. Never watched a single episode. However, thanks to the ubiquitous trailers over the years and cunts gushing on about it all over the MSM for what seems like forever, I can confirm that Eastenders is indeed a steaming pile of cuntage.

    Morning all.

  17. Thankfully I no longer watch live telly his dirty den still shagging his mum’s sisters first cousins milkman’s son’s daughter on the side? Just asking.

  18. It’s as representative of London as Victoria secrets catalogue model is of the bovines that actually buy the gear they are selling.

    Bad enough it exists but worse still is the praise heaped upon the writers and actors involved.

    I’m not fond of luvvies and the entertainment industry dishing out awards to themselves but it’s stretching credulity to say that great acting or writing can be found in soapland.

    Even more annoying is the Australian soap method acting sigh that precedes pretty much every meaningless line of dialogue.

    Throw in woke agenda in every episode and you have completed another episode of festering shit for the masses.

  19. It’s many, many years since I saw this site. There was a character called Nick Cotton. He was a complete cunt, with no morals or conscience whatsoever.
    I liked him.
    Good morning.

      • He didn’t come into some money and inherit vast land holdings in Northumbria by any chance?

        Morning Jack.

      • Alas, I do not know. I wouldn’t have thought that an Eastender would be able to cope with the intractable, wild expanses of Northumberland.
        Just a coincidence that they’re both beastly cunts. 😀
        Morning, LL.

  21. A bit off topic, but the actress who played Mary the junkie punk from the early episodes is now an IT consultant and did some work for a family member.

    I can confirm that she is completely normal and actually quite pleasant to talk to.

    In the interest of keeping the conversation polite, I thought better of telling her I used to enjoy a menage-a-un over her when I was a teenager.

  22. Eastenders – mockney waaankaaahs.
    Emmerdale – wurzel thickos.
    Coronation strasse – chip butty and lard.
    Up yer pipe.

    • Eastenders gets less viewers than Corrie and even Emmerdale these days.
      “Least Enders” 😀

  23. That fat bald wannabe Kray beetroot faced fuck, Phil Mitchell is still doing the pissed up hardman act when he’s pushing 60. Fucking laughable. I bet Fat Fackin Phil is still shoving weasel cunt Ian Beale’s head down the bog years later. I also heard that jaffa skinned slapper and crabs machine, Kat ‘Y shaped coffin’ Slater and that utter cuntmangle, Alfie Moon are making a comeback. Fuck me, that Slater slag had more colours than jelly babies and her legs have been apart longer than the Beatles. And they parted in 1970.

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