I smell a cunt.
If there are any bored mathematicians out there, then please tell me what is the probability that after Adele’s gushing appreciation of a former teacher on stage at a recent gig, then lo and behold, in a scene reminiscent of ‘this is your life’, and much to the harpie’s surprise, who is in the audience? – fuck me it’s the aforementioned teacher herself who is asked onto the stage.
Prearranged? I think so. What a cynical sanctimonious skriking cunt.
The cunting doesn’t end there.
After leaving the stage to replaster her mascara streaked face, she spots erstwhile cunting candidate chatty-man Alan Carr and gets him up to fill in for her (not like that, obviously)
Nominated by : Lord Cuntington of Kuntston upon Hull
Also, only a matter of time before Adele gets up the duff from some London Zulu.
Like most of the chav slags she grew up with.
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A footballing one might make her loose weight, by knocking the shit out of her.
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I was told you must pay to listen to this pub warbler. I had hell believing it.
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The boring pig looks like a fat drag queen.
Needs to shut up and fuck off.
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Is she… gaining it back?
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