Getting the right arsehole over this spreading No Name game. The Show With No Name. The Pub With No Name. Comedy Improv With No Name. The Panto with No Name. The Curry House With No Name (signature dish No Name Masala I kid you not). The Gin With No Name for crissake (but oh so very expensive) with its twee hand filled reusable chunky glass bottles. The Gender With No Name.
Talking of that fuckabilly I was upstairs on the bus the other day and within six inches of my nose a couple sat down. A couple of what? Now there you have me. A pair of non-identifying nose ringed, pierced and inked with ratty hair that’s been bleached and colour rinsed in old horse piss….well a pair of those.
One pig fat and smelling of sweet pork and the other with its fanny whiffing of cheese, much younger and elfin small wearing old school NHS glasses. The little elf giggled a lot and lowered its eyes in submission as it reached forward and took sweets one by one from Mamma Pigs huge handbag. Mamma Pig every so often would lick its lip pins and waggle one fat finger to establish control.
They jabbered and lisped away in what I took to be Ukrainian (pretty sure because lots down my way) and then I twigged. Took a while because this lifestyle is usually pretty well hidden even in hedonistic and ugly Brighton. A touch of the old dominants and submissives, another Club With No Name. A bit extreme even for my old arse – but inject a bit of Nazi leather, oh yes.
So where to go to from here – the Beckhams and Gwinnie Paltrow having a last swing at child bearing with The Child With No Name? Many of those cunts appearing in Courts up and down the land already.
“I self identify as The Person With No Name Your Honour”
Plenty in my family down the centuries but we have a name for them – Bastards. So if any brain drooling trendy cannot think of a name for its enterprise I offer a choice of the following, all copyright free:
Cunting, bollocks, shite arsed, dick fuck, anal retentive, pox cock, fanny fumbler, minge and juice….oh I don’t know I could be cutting off my own foreskin giving away some of this golden creative.
“Coming for a swift half dahn the Minge and Juice mate?”
Now that has traction.
Nominated by: Sir Limply Stoke
Off the wall sort of nom.
Sort of reminds me of the time I went to the desert.
After two days in the desert sun, my skin began to turn red.
After three days in the desert fun I was looking at a river bed
And the story it told of a river that flowed
Made me sad to think it was dead
You see I’ve been through the desert
On a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert, you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
La, la, la, la, la, la
8
No Name Masala?
Do I want to know what’s in it?
Nah, I’ll pass, thanks.
4
Has someone been laughing at sir limplys mule again..
6
I’m a little confused by this nomination. Was there an auto correct, a typo or even some sort of mistake in translation?
It sounds to me like you’re describing an abhorration with no name or an abomination with no name.
But I guess this makes sense as what you describe has devolved from human into something unrecognizable and therefore, nameless.
As for people who are willing to adopt this nonsense, I think the name cunt suffices.
11
laying in bed and read that nom….
I haven’t a fucking clue what it is about.
Ave good day nameless ones.
5
It’s Armistice Day so I think the old codger might be cryptically referencing the “unknown soldier.” Or he could be just pissed and rambling……..we’ve all been there, but not usually on a bus in Brighton.
Your guess is as good as mine.
9
How does a pub with no name get any customers?
“let’s go and have a few pints”
“aye where?”
“fuck knows”
9
We always feel the need to label things. Having no name is a state akin to non-existence to the feeble human mind. Our hubris is manifest in the names we give to people places and things. Often we name them after ourselves. Be they offspring, newly discovered planets or soft toys, without a name it is as if they are not there, mere phantoms. So we give them names – Adolf, Boris,Sadiq, Rishi, Kier, Ed, Nicola, Joe, Ursula, Tony, Gary, Lewis, Sir Jimmy…and they become real.
Good morning, everyone.
10
I used to know a bloke called Warwick Hunt.
I think he’d rather have had no name.
8
You should be proud of your name.
My father, Akim, named me after his best friend.
My brothers, Tur & Bim aren’t too keen on theirs, though.
11
I’ve met your cousin Harry.
He’s a sweet lad.
11
I think I met one of your cousins here in the Deep South. His name was Jim.
Sorry Beau, I jest.
8
You see these physically and spiritually unattractive, androgynous, blue-haired land whales all over the place but I imagine you’d get even more of them in a freakshow like Brighton alongside the hipsters, hippies, vegans, cyclists, environmentalists and generic remoaner cunts.
Every time I see some Joe 90 looking twat with huge glasses and a septum piercing, I have to resist the urge to steal the glasses, break them, take the fat cow by the nose and tie it/him/her/xim/them to a fence post.
11
add homeless. Lots of tents up around Brighton these days. Meanwhile The Ivy have a little restaurant there called The Ivy in the Lanes.
Very egalitarian place.
1
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
Not if it was called ‘Angela Rayner’s growler’ it wouldn’t.
11
Good header pic, given my nom de plume…!
9
Sticks and stones may brake my bones, but names will never hurt me.
2
What about ‘you can’t spell you daft cunt’?
3
Nice one Moggie. It took me a more than a few seconds and one side head tilt before I saw the spelling mistake.
0
You tend to come over all aggressive when the slightest mistake is made, most unlike your little pussy.
0
Here in sophisticated Widnes people with no name all turned out to have the same name. I’m stood in the bar and a nameless stranger walks in so I turn to my mate and ask, ‘’Who’s that?”. Every one of them was called, “Fuck knows”.
3
Names of terrywrists and gang rapists are often withheld by the meeia. However, we generally have a good idea as to what they might be.
3
‘Meeja’.
2
Perhaps Sir Limply needs to move to rural Wales where I understand everyone is called Jones and designated by their occupation – Jones the Baker, Jones the Undertaker, Jones the Newsagent, Jones the Cunt, etc.
4
And the undertaker, Dai the Death.
Morning all.
6
We had the dreaded Rhea brothers in Cwmscwt.
Dio, Pio and Gono.
I fell foul of all 3.
5
“…I am Jones from Bwlchgwyn, he is Jones from Builth Wells and there are four more Joneses in C Company!” – 716 Jones in “Zulu”
1
Are they the unnamed boat people ?
3
Its the longest wait for our elevenses in sometime.
2
I think this is one of those noms where we really need a link for a bit more context, even if it is just a fad for Brightonian f@ggots (surely transmitted from Islington/ Camden/ Shoreditch/ Dalston).
3
Alzheimer’s could be another reason.
3
No names upstairs on the bus in Brighton with a piggy pair lisping in Ukrainian. Then the Beckhams and Gwinnie Paltrow self-identifying over a swift half…
A nomination as clear as mud. Must be art.
4
Although I don’t know every Ukrainian in the UK personally, I must say that Brighton isn’t exactly a place known for them. Nottingham, London, Bradford, Manchester and Derby? Yes. Brighton? No.
4
On the contrary and had my cunting of them made the light of day you would have been appraised of the Ukrainian situation in Brighton. “Proud to Be Ukrainian Friendly” proclaims the Brighton Council T-shirt. We have lots of them here being housed by the Council and by private citizens.
1
Mohamed seems a very popular name in the UK today…..☠️
2
Widespread, but popular? I fucking doubt it.
3
Your cunting Sir Limply has thinking of this Neil Young soundalike classic from the band America https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocLCLMZO6dc
1
Perhaps a bit more context for this trend (and of course, it’s in fucking Islington)…
https://www.theworlds50best.com/discovery/Establishments/UK/London/The-Bar-With-No-Name.html
1
Could be one of those hipster places which needs a sign saying ‘Cunts Only’, a bit like every Slug and Lettuce.
1
He was a case.
The artist formerly known as the artist formerly known as Pronce.
0