A nomination for Poncing

 

Ive known a few ponces in my time.
They were friends until they began that treacherous slide toward poncedom.

‘Uh, mate, I can’t really get a round in. I left my wallet at home.’
‘uh, mate, is it okay to borrow a tenner for some dinner?’
‘Uh mate, I need to like borrow money for upgrading my computer/spaffing on nerdy tat because I’ve blown my month’s pay on drinking with my real mates and need to keep the rest for a bit of food and the leccy’
‘Uh, mate, can I scrounge/scab/borrow a fiver for the train?’
‘Uh, mate, before you visit the flat, can you nip to sainsburys and buy us snacks and some wine for this evening.. yeah, the missus has got money and ive got about two quid on me at the moment… can you get a book of stamps as well.. we’ve run out’.
‘Uh, mate, can I be cheeky and ask you for a favour.? Can you paint/draw signs for my kid’s school fete?… Oh, pay? but you like art and you’ve already got all the gear’.’
‘Uh, mate, can i use/borrow your van/tools to move my mate’s shit from his garage to his new flat/council tip? I’ll give you petrol money…’
‘Uh, mate, can I jget a lift to Brighton because my girlfriend’s car is at the garage?. I’ll pay you petrol money this time…’.
‘Uh, mate, can I just use your toilet for a massive shit?..Yeah i’ll flush it this time’
‘Uh, mate, csn you just bend over so I can screw some more money, time, petrol, tools, food, drink and labour out of you?’

It’s less the asking and more the creeping sense of entitlement once you do lend them money, do them a favour.

I’m done with them. Sadly my poor mum has been used by ‘friends’ and relatives on my dad’s side throughout her life because she is a helpful soul. Sometimes I will tell her she’s being taken for a mug. It’s not something I like saying to my mum but phrasing it harshly is sometimes all that prevents her from bring exploited by whichever ponce is asking for ‘just a little favour..’

get fucked you indolent, entitled, ungrateful parasites. and that’s just her in-laws/my dad’s siblings and mother.

Do cunters have tales of barefaced poncing they wish to share?

Nominated by Cuntamus Prime.

94 thoughts on “A nomination for Poncing

  1. I used to share a flat with a freeloading cunt. You’d put something in the fridge, the cunt would eat it. You’d get annoyed and ask the thieving hippy shit why he’d wolfed it and you’d get ‘Hey. It’s only a sandwich’ and ‘If it means that much to you I’ll replace it tomorrow’ (the cunt never did). The scruffy lank haired twat did this time and time again. Same applied to my beer, cigarettes, records, and anything else the cunt could get his hands on. And when caught he’d do the hippy morality trip ‘Don’t be such a breadhead, Man. Materialsim is not good’. Then one day, the twat tried to pull my (other) flatmate’s girlfriend. And he promptly beat the shit out of the leeching scruffbag.

    Never trust a hippy.

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