Who are You?

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Have just been listening to this awesome The Who song, and it got me thinking, Who actually am I?

Not only is this video/song one hell of a song from way back in the late 70s early 80s, but it also becomes quite relevant today with all this gender pronoun, identitarian politics bullshit.

These days you can identify as anything you want, and if anyone complains you can have them cancelled for hate crime.

Yes, we’ve already seen blokes identify as women even though they fall short of actually having the op to have their cock and balls removed. And yes, we ‘ve also heard that adults can identify as sheep, cows, dogs, cats, children etc.

Therefore, I want to identify as Mohammed Ali on Mondays and Fridays; Albert Einstein on Wednesdays, Anne Frank on Tuesdays, and Winston Churchill on the remainder.

Does that sound ridiculous? Well of course it does to most level-headed people. But It worries me that the western world has gone completely absorbed in this identitarian culture to the point where if I called a woman a woman I could be locked up for some kind of hate crime. Or if I call her a Ms, Mrs, Miss I could yet again be locked up for similar offences.

Anyway, today is Tuesday, I must update my diary in my pokey little loft.

Admin – no links, just my usual ramblings.

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Nominated by Technocunt.

62 thoughts on “Who are You?”

  1. Who am I, now there is a question.

    Today I have been skivvy, shopper, house cleaning, dog walker 3 fucking times today, meal preparer and the Mrs’s taxi service.

    Tomorrow more of the same. Oh I am a moaning old cunt..

  2. One can only imagine Keith Moon’s reaction to this pronoun shite. Were he still alive.

    Hehehehe 😄😄

    • Glad you still like them Mis. They continue to be a great Band (Duo). Saw them recently then going to Royal Albert Hall to see the CUNTS again in March. They haven’t lost it yet!

      • Saw them years ago in Manchester sir Cuntalot.
        Fan since I was 12.

        Moon was my Favourite character in any band.
        A true star ⭐

  5. (Well done admin)

    All I know is I am a fucking cunt.

    Just look at reviews of me on RogueTraderAndBoyfriend.com

    (oh if there were such a site -thankfully there isn’t).

  6. Well, I don’t suffer fools gladly and I assume everyone’s a cunt unless they prove otherwise. That’s who I am and my yardstick for getting through life.

  7. The company I work for, (for the time being), has just employed one of these freaks.
    A man who identifies as a woman.
    The staff concerned were taken aside, and told how they should behave in its presence.
    I was not one of them, which is why I still work there, (for the time being).
    If I’d have been told how to behave in order to appease this mentally unstable weirdo, I’d have hit the fucking roof.
    I feel sorry for any women who have had their identity eroded by lunatics such as this.
    Anyhow, is the freak any good at the job? No. Not one bit, and worse than most.
    It turns out to be a box ticking exercise by HR in the name of “Diversity and Inclusion” to the detriment of all others.
    Cunts.

    • ‘Right….we can’t afford to give you a pay rise this year as we have to employ someone in the name of diversification and inclusion, as our current workforce doesn’t reflect this’

      ‘ Will they know how to do the job and be any good at it when they do?’

      ‘no’

      ‘Right, so I have to go without a pay rise and carry someone who will bring our performance and productivity down?’

      ‘Yes’

      ‘That’s fucking bollocks!’

    • My blood boiled over just by reading this and it appears nothing can be done. It’s the same old story for those who don’t belong are always shite at the job and there is the dead give away that they are pretending and should be dismissed, just like any other employer should if shite at their job.

      • Yes indeed, Sammy.

        I hope I’m still around in a few years time, when the obvious fakers like those rapist cunts claiming to identify as female in the hope of a lighter sentence, or sports cunts like Lia Thomas not to mention the ubercunt Dylan Mulvaney realise that no one is buying their bullshit anymore, or they’ve been superceded by someone even more grotesque finally retake their place in society as what they actually are.

        Either that, or go the whole way. Wearing a wig and a pink t-shirt when you needed a shave two days ago (and I’m not talking about their shins) convinces no one.
        Get ’em chopped off or fuck off!

    • My name is George, but I’m sorry, I’ve always felt more comfortable as Georgina. It’s not my fault I was born in the wrong body.

      Well anyway, that’s what I said to the missus today when she came home early and caught me trying on her knickers.

  9. I identify as Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery.

    It’s worked out very well,though I do run into some difficulties when dealing with those damned Eyeties and Blockheads.

    Running them over with a tank is the height of my diplomatic efforts.

    Good Show.

  10. I know who the fuck I am alright.
    I’m a white, male, heterosexual, agnostic, slightly right-of-centre
    Englishman.
    Yep – won first prize in the lottery of life!
    In other words, a right jammy bastard.

  12. Ah, good question. As Nigel Farage once asked the clueless muppet Herman Von Rompuy – “Who are you?”

    We might well ask it of Rishi Sunak. The cunt is wanted by no one. Not even his own party.

    We might well ask it of Hair Sniffin’ Joe Biden. It would be cruel as he probably won’t remember. That won’rt stop millions of Americans, both alive and dead, voting for him in November.

    We might well ask it of Voldomyr Zelensky, The billionaire comedian who can play piano with his dick and is, allegedly, winning the war.

    The world is full of dodgy cunts who nobody trusts. Mostly they have access to nuclear weapons. Oh well, never mind.

    Good afternoon, everyone.

    • The Times isn’t too sure now.

      Vlad’s toppling was imminent a couple of months ago, now we’re looking at conscription for the Gen Z dossers.

  14. I am fucking useless, straight white male, retired, have no interest in anything woke, I think all channel migrants are cunts and should be shipped back to France (or anywhere), all Muslims are cunts and should fuck off to, I don’t care where and sooties should be pickin’ cotton.

    I should be taken out and shot!

  15. Hippies used to go to India to find themselves.

    Hahaha
    Thick cunts must be rubbish at hide an seek?
    Show em a mirror.

    I know exactly who I am.
    Warts an all.

    Shy, sensitive, open minded,
    Easy going…
    But enough about my faults.

    • Remember shortbread pop singer Sheena Easton?

      My baby takes the morning train’…

      Well she forgot who she was.

      After being a local girl made good she returned from the US to play a home gig in Glasgow.

      She walked on stage with a ” Howdy y’all” yank accent.

      She left shortly after being bombarded with bottles of piss.

      Never forget who you are.

      Or people will remind you.

    • The hippy birds used to get their boobs touched by Indian men on the train.

      ‘We are liking these fat milky boo-zums!’

      Still do.

  18. Who are you? I like you, am now someone who “has” to live in a multicultural society…!

    I DON’T LIKE IT…..!

    NO FUCKER EVER ASKED US, DO YOU WANT TO LIVE IN A MULTICULTURAL SOCIETY..?

    The politicos cunts know what the reply would have been…

    No, fuck off….!

  19. “Who am i” I’m someone who with each passing day thinks the wrong side won the war..

    • Absofuckinglutly! Imagine a world where there are no pikeys, no mongs, no retards, no n*gnogs, no sexual deviants and no illegal gimmegrants! Also no potty mouthed feral bastard kids running around, no fucking Red Sea pedestrians constantly playing the victim card! The US would be cowering on the sidelines like frightened rabbits!

  20. Isn’t it funny that there only two options for gender reassignment surgery?

    Male and female…

    • That, Sir, is an accute observation.

      Congratulations. You have pointed out the bleeding obvious in two sentences.

      A round of applause for Hugh.

      👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

    • What you describe is sex reassignment surgery.
      Gender is all in the mind.
      Bowie being a prime example.

  21. Actually, I’m a really nice chap.
    A pillar of the fucking community.
    Every housewife’s pride and joy!
    Sensitive to atmosphere.
    Though do tend to get desensitised when cunts take liberties.
    Salt of the earth type, me.
    Get the picture?
    For example:
    Around Christmas 1981, I decided to do a bit of snow clearing for the Borough Council. I didn’t have to do this snow clearing – I mean I wasn’t financially embarrassed in any way – it just appealed to me, to something deep within me.
    What I anticipated (with a good deal of pleasure) was the brisk cold bite in the early morning air.
    Anyway, I had to stand on a corner at 5:30am to wait for the lorry to pick me up and take me to the allotted area. Bloody freezing.
    Well, the lorry came, I jumped on the tailboard and off we went.
    Got there, shovels up, fags lit, deep in the December snow hours before cockcrow.
    That morning, while I was having my mid-morning cup of tea in a neighbouring cafe, an old lady approached me and asked if I would give her a hand with her iron mangle. Her brother-in-law, she said, had left it for her, but he’d left it in the wrong room. He’d left it in the front room, and naturally she wanted it in the back room.
    So I took time off to help her, she only lived up the road.
    Well, the trouble was when I got there I couldn’t move this mangle. It must have weighed half a ton. How this brother-in-law got it up there in the first place I can’t even begin to envisage.
    So there I was, risking a rupture, and this old lady just standing there, waving me on, not even lifting a little finger to give me a helping hand.
    After a few minutes I said to her: “Now look here, why don’t you stuff this mangle up your arse? Besides, they’re out of date, you want to get a spin dryer.”
    I had a good mind to give her a workover there and then. But as I was feeling jubilant, with the snow clearing and that, I just gave her a short-arm jab to the belly and jumped on a bus outside.
    I suppose the moral of this story is ‘no good deed goes unpunished’.

  22. I identity as a Gopher Mrs Civvydog is always telling me to go for this ,go for that.
    But when I have the day off I’m back to being a cunt.

  23. I have two daughters.

    Elders husband was married previously. I’ll call him Big Lad (BL).

    BLs former wife had 2 daughters, BL is not the father. One of the daughters comes out as gay. That’s fine. Oh wait, she’s not lesbian, but a man trapped in a woman’s body.
    OK. He /she goes through all the counselling, lives for two years as a bloke etc. Gets on the NHS transgender list, taking hormone treatment, has a mastectomy, all on target.
    Next step is a hysterectomy, and construction of a penis, etc.
    Hang on a minute, she/he/it says. I want to have a baby!
    So the boyfriend ( yes, me too) obliges, after stopping all the pills for months and lo and behold!

    I personally think they should have been put in a secure mental facility, but this is just an example of people being confused about who/what they are.

    • To us blinkered reactionary old cunts it all seems like total insanity.

      But we ain’t been edukated right and don’t understand progressive logic.

      Maybe it used to be important to recognise gender as a specific reality but now we know that gender is fluid and a social construct not a physical reality.

      When people had to milk cows it really mattered that you could recognise the biological differences but now when you’re pouring nut milk on your oats there’s no chance of it being dairy.

      May as well say the earth is flat than tell these cunts men can’t get pregnant……

  24. You are what you is!

    “ A foolish young man
    Of the Negro persuasion
    Devoted his life
    To become a caucasian
    He stopped eating pork
    He stopped eating greens
    He traded his dashiki (Uhuru!)
    For some Jordache Jeans
    He learned to play golf
    An’ he got a good score
    Now he says to himself
    “I ain’t no n***** no more”

    FZ

  25. I don’t listen to The Who for the same reason I don’t listen to Michael Jackson or Gary Glitter (well I wouldn’t listen to the latter anyway )

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