Vincent Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan

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Vincent Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan is a theiving cunt.

Someone went into shop with an idiot tax ticket to collect their winnings which er, Vincent then proceeded to scam the lucky ticket holder by handing over £30 when the due prize was supposed to be £920.

The ticket holder later realised that they were due more than the £30.

The most surprising part in all of this is that there was actually a punishment handed to the shop in the form of removal of their licence.

The unsurprising part is err, Vincent was allowed to pay an out of court settlement which seems awfully familiar to a religious courts way if doing things rather than being prosecuted.

bbcnews

Nominated by Cunt of the Isles.

78 thoughts on “Vincent Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan”

  1. I don’t buy lottery tickets.

    But if I did, I certainly wouldn’t buy one from a wōg shop.

    I don’t buy anything from a wôg shop.

    Just like I’d never use a Turkish barbers.

    Fuck them.

    O/T…..Anti terror police dealing with the Widdecombe Incident, have reopened investigation into an incident some time ago in which an incendiary device was pushed through a letterbox. The incident was classed as a failed burglary and the case was closed.

    The property belongs to one Mr. N. Farage.

    The plot thickens.

    Good morning 🌞👍

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    • I fully agree Jack …
      I don’t buy lottery tickets either, but if I did it certainly wouldn’t be from a goat-shagger.
      And what are those thick rozzers at now? A failed burglary? I could understand some thick scroat being pissed at not being able to get in and so pushes a petrol rag through the letter-box – as a ‘fuck you’ message. But an INCENDIARY DEVICE? Something that has presumably been constructed, but failed to go off? Failed burglary my ass. It was probably a targeted attack, but the thick fuckers ain’t going to admit to that.

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      • Cassandra @ The Establishment doesn’t like the suggestion of far left terror.

        And will do its very best to ignore or dismiss it as something else.

        The cunts.

        Good afternoon 👍

    • He’s been raising concerns about his security for yonks arfur, and they’ve done fuck all.

      As for Widdecombe, the State is probably guilty in aiding and abetting her murder.

      Ruled by cunts.

      Good evening.

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  2. Anyone that buys a lottery ticket is a hopelessly optimistic cunt.

    Anyone who gambles with a Czech company using a Pákí middle man is an even bigger cunt.

    Good morning.

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  3. oh Vinnie .
    swindling your customers!!
    despicable.

    The customer should get a free trolley dash of your shop filling his trolley with out of date crisps, counterfeit cigarettes,
    unlicensed vape oil,
    and not for resale slightly melted chocolate bars.

    I’m guessing your customer service was surly
    your shop stunk of curry
    and you and the family lived above in the one bedroom flat with faded net curtains and dead flies at the windows.

    thank you come again

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  4. If you give a gun to a chimp and the chimp shoots someone, you don’t blame the chimp.
    Allowing smelly ding-dings access to a system where they can scam whitey is the real crime here.
    It’s as inevitable as night following day.
    Surely entering an individual ticket code into an official website to transfer the money into a designated account would be a more sensible process?

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    • The thick cunt had no idea how much he had won.

      By the miserly lottery payouts I am guessing that he matched 5 number to be due more than £900.
      A tiny fraction of the astronomical odds.

      A retail shop cannot pay out more than £500.

      So one clueless cunt, probably a Pákí, gets ripped off by another one.

      Isn’t there something in the Quran that forbids getting involved in gambling?

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      • AC@ There’s lots of things forbidden in the Quran.

        But there’s always a get out clause.

        It was written by a distant relative of Arthur Daley.

        Good day to you Sir 👍

      • Morning Jack.

        The Pákí is obviously a thieving cunt.

        Even if you are stupid enough to believe his version of events which he wanted to give in his native Tamil language, you would have to say that he is is hopeless at numbers.

        That might be a red flag to audit his tax and VAT returns for the past few years.

        But that would probably be racist.

      • I have it on good authority that if you really wanna maximise your business profits while staying within the limits of upsetting HMRC you need a Pakistani accountant, they are even more efficient at legally swindling than a Jewish accountant somehow.

  5. Poor infrastructure yet again,the penny pinching cunts.

    A proper lottery machine should flash a searchlight strength light into the shop whilst announcing at 150 decibels “you lucky cunt you’ve won £900 odd pounds!”

    Some James bond style handcuffs should also shoot out of the machine to stop the paki behind the counter running off with the cash.

    More people would play if they’d only invest in these things properly.

    Good morning.

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    • the early lottery machines never made a noise if you were a winner or not. now they do make a tinkly ‘you’ve won something’ noise…..due to the fact in the early days some other swarthy shop owner duped a winner by simply saying they hadn’t won, and pocketed the winnings. they changed the machines after that.

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    • I would never do the lottery. It angers me that the money the punters pay out to bankrupt themselves gets given to good causes, like, er, the National Ballet Company.

      Why should I throw my pension away just so that fat poofs like Wes Streeting can enjoy Diagalev’s Nutcracker subsidised – if he can’t get a free ticket of that crypto billionaire, in exchange for a blowjob.

      If they want to help good causes they need to think of all the animal charities, not arty farty poofters.

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      • They go to worse ‘good causes’ than that. Think of charities that help homosexuals and refugees. I also know another charity they help is stopping naughty kids from being expelled from schools.

  8. Best one, well I would hate to see the worse one..

    Living in this country is now a terrible lottery..
    Run down by a uninsured pàki, stabbed to death by a trainee doctor.
    Taxed to death by some lanyard wearing gunt.

    Deport the thief through a wood chipper..

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  9. Mrs Cumber always buys her Clottery Ticket from the same local shop; I always try to go with her for a swatch at the youngish white British lady’s fantastic melons and, if I’m fortunate, her lovely bottom. Sadly I’m not likely to ever see her lucky dip, unless Mrs C wins us a fortune…

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  11. From a person who doesn’t gamble I don’t give two hooks. The people who are duped will only throw the money away on another gambling spree and the fiddlers deserve all what’s coming to them. This sort of thing I’ve always found amusing. I remember as a youngster seeing the most laughable pair of establishments next to each other, one being a public house and the other being a betting shop, which had been converted after gambling had become legalised after the back entry illegal betting haunts were no longer necessary. I would always see some poor chap flittering from one to the other, in only his vest after losing his shirt in the other.

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    • As the wise say Sammy, the house always wins.

      This scam, by the shopkeeper that is, not the lottery itself, I suspect is happening on a grand scale. Consider all the unclaimed prizes, some of them in the millions. It seems as if the purchasers are in a mindset where they know they have wasted their money at the moment they bought the ticket and don’t even bother to check it.

      Years ago our younger out with her mates bought one of these instant tickets on a whim. It was a winner and she immediately received a small cash sum from the shop. They went in the pub and drank it.

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  12. I won the lottery from the very beginning of its introduction, by never buying a ticket. I can only imagine it being a lot of money after never wasting it since 1994.

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  13. There’s something about that People’s Postcode Lottery I don’t understand. If the winning street is pulled out of the hat at random, how come it’s always the same street that gets invaded by those red-fleeced cunts?

    You know the one – Meadow Way on the new-build Clover Fields estate. Every winning couple is a pair of flabby, middle-aged, Daily Mail reading, sub-optimal IQ retards who think £20,000 will transform their lives. It’s a number with some noughts in it and it’s handed to them in a big envelope, so now they must be as rich as Elon Musk.

    Then after one cruise and noroviral gastroenteritis on the SS Allure of the Seas the dosh is all gone. Shit, where did it all go?

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  14. I don’t use businesses run by ethnics, except when it happens by accident, e.g. unfamiliar petrol stations when I’m away from home.

    Little shop around the corner from here. Run for years by a nice English family, selling useful stuff such as milk, tobacco and a great selection of beers at reasonable prices (significantly cheaper than the Co-Op which is nearby).

    Last time I went there, earlier in the year, all the branding on the outside had changed. Went in and was shocked to find a foreign sounding curry head behind the counter. Next thing, a woman appears babbling on about “Eed” (?)

    It was a disorientating and very unpleasant experience. Why wasn’t there any warning before I entered? I left immediately, going straight home to scrub my hands having touched the door handle.

    Haven’t been back. I hope others in the neighbourhood are doing the same. Stop giving them money and they might just FO.

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  15. Another one to go with the “professor” or horse shit (Cambs) this week – if you are the right colour or the right religion you can get away with anything under the British legal system these days. I might black up. I always wanted to be Othello. Just as long as Jess Phillips can be Desdemona. “the moor! – I hear his trumpet call!”

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  16. The missus does a lottery ticket each week. It happens automatically through the app, so no effort involved. It essentially boils down to paying £2 for a daydream that could come true, even if being struck by lightning inside a bunker is more likely. But since £2 doesn’t even pay for a small glass of poor quality lager in a pub these days, it’s no big deal. And she doesn’t drink anyway. What I do find a little strange, and very mean, is when she wins £1… which doesn’t even pay for a new ticket.

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    • Just think, if she saved up all those £2s every week, at the end of the year she would have £104 – enough to buy you a nice Xmas gift – a box set of gems from the archives of Boggs Pornographic Film Productions (Taiwan) ,Ltd , perhaps – it would even include postage and packing in a strong tamper proof plain brown box. For example there is “Emily Thornberry – the Early Years 1945-1960”, which covers her first striptease on VJ night, up to and including her nude wrestling bout with Glenda Jackson, held on the night JFK won the Presidency, so therefore little covered at the time. Most of the films are in black and white, but if you remember she always wore black leather in her act so you don’t miss much.

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      • Think I’ll let her waste the 2 quid rather than throw up, but thanks Boggs.

      • … and let her waste the thousand quid over ten years.

        Plus, you haven’t taken account of possible winnings 🙂

      • Your loss, CF – sure you don’t want to see her double penetrated by Clement Attlee and Nye Bevan in 1958?. Admittedly, that one is in sepia.

  17. Each time this gambling nonsense rears its ugly head, it always reminds me of the times my parents would take my brother and me to the Belle Vue dog racing track in the 50s, for the sole reason of there being a lovely hot thick soup to enjoy, especially on cold winters nights. There were the brightly coloured losers cards we would collect from the floor and there was the thrill of watching the greyhound chasing the hare of course.

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  18. Most greyhound tracks have disappeared and now racecourses are being replaced for housing. That will be for the other races of course, the illegal black bastards.

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  19. It’s not called ‘rip-off’ Britain for nothing. Something for nothing is the name of the game. It is a philosophy that whitey is quite new to. For centuries, Britons went out to work for five or more days a week, aspired to owning their own home,, and took pride in their appearance. Meanwhile Darquies spent their time cheating and skiving at every opportunity. Pick pocketing, drug dealing, mugging and looting were their careers of choice.

    Under Liebour and Conservative governments, Great Britain has become infested with darquies. Pale-faced people seem surprised that they are scammed, robbed, and threatened at every turn . Why the surprise? It has taken long enough, and now it is too late. Prepping is the only sensible course.

    Good morning, everyone.

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  20. He’s a cunt but so are people who buy fucking lottery shit. “I’ll ‘av three number 5s, 2 12s, a lucky dip, Thunderball” etc etc etc for 10 fucking minutes whilst you’re stood behind them with one item and there’s a parking officer lurking around outside. Useless eaters indeed.

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    • Via Viz I was aware that scratchcard junkies were a thing … but only witnessed one once, about 3 months ago.

      As you said, W, taking up my time as she dithered at the checkout, enamoured by the maybe ten different variants available. She had a young child with her… maybe 3 or 4 y.o… and was ‘including’ the unfortunate by getting her to point at ‘which ones to get’ .. ultimately blowing 20-something quid there and then on the things. And teaching the kid all the wrong lessons.

      No other purchases. A reminder to me there and then why I hate going out wheret the filthy public abound, I couldn’t get back behind my moat(I wish!) quickly enough ….

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    • All that information bamboozled me, WokeUp. Never being a gambling person I’ve related it to hard work and now after retirement I’m reaping the benefits from the funds I put into my pension that continues flowing my way the longer I stay alive.

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    • WUTARWACIA: You’ve hit the nail on the head. The number of time I have been in W H Smith sorry T G Jones for my Telegraph and a book of stamps while some lardarse insists they check her (it’s usually a her) old lottery cards for prizes, they have to run the scrunched up old cards through the machine, and they have won nothing, except a look of contempt from me. Then they waste even more time by choosing what gaudy coloured instant to buy. It is as irritating as when you get stood behind somebody in the Post Office wanting to return half a dozen plastic bags of clothes to Primark or whoever sends them. There ought to be a special shop for people who annoy – preferably next to a wet fish shop in the height of summer, or a poorly maintained public lavatory. That would teach them.

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  21. oh, WAIT a minute … Vincent Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan?.. is he a cousin of Nigel Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan ; .. you know? .. Peter & Doris Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan’s youngest .. married the lovely Victoria Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan, who is of course Doris and Peter’s niece, .. her father being Charles ‘Chas’ Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan, brother of Victoria’s father Neville Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan?

    Or am I thinking of a different Vincent Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan?

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  22. ^ STEP-father Neville Shaanmugarajah Thamilnesan 🤬 .. it’s hard to keep track of these Shaanmugarajah-Thamilnesan’s..

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  24. A while back I was in Morrisons and after getting the usual grocery items I thought I’ll buy a euro lottery ticket, just the one line. Massive pot ( got to be in it to win it 🥴).

    In front of me was a fat arsed leggings clad woman of about 50 ish.

    She bought £95.00 worth of lucky dips for the above draw. I said to the lass on the till, blimey that’s a lot. Her reply was, she spends that every week plus 20 fags every day.
    Must have a good job.

    Benefits, was her reply, with a certain look on her face..!

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    • I was once in the queue at the counter behind a woman like the one you describe Doc. She asked for 50 fags and a bottle of whisky. She was asked which brand of whisky she required and her instant response and I mean instant was; “The cheapest.”

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    • I’ve played that game at a Bangkok fairground with real Thai girls Bob.

      They both had 3 ping pong balls up their beavers which they fired at me one after another. The idea is if you catch one in your mouth you win a goldfish.

      More fun than the coconut shy.

      And the goldfish was tasty.

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      • Just so happens Cunt Engine has organised something similar for the IsAC Christmas jolly later this year as post dinner entertainment. It beats JP playing the spoons again anyway.

      • This year, I’m pulling out all the stops, chaps:
        Assorted previous cunters who visited the love dungeon and never left will provide adequate Yuletide nutrition.
        For starters, there’ll be medallions of pan-seared Dıck Fıddler rump.
        Main course will be a rack of Empıre Cụnts Back ribs with wild mushroom risotto.
        Pudding will be warm sticky toffee pudding or apple crumble served in bowls made from the hollowed-out skulls of Krâvdarth, Black and Whıte Cunt and any other delightful piece of shit on ISAC who gets on my tits before the middle of December.

      • Cheers, LL.

        I thought my goose-stepping across the tables, in the SS uniform , whilst rattling out “Hitler has only got one ball ” was an absolute masterpiece ( until I fell off ).

      • Do you know if TTCE is selecting the menu again this year LL? I do hope so.

        Last year’s Fillet of Niggá Roadkill was exceptional. Haute cuisine at its finest.

        Bon appetit.

      • I just wish I’d not used my own car, GT.
        That Robertson’s took ages to disentangle from the suspension and lower control arm before making his way into the crockpot.
        At least his scalp with that nasty, kinky hair meant I had a long-lasting scouring pad to do the washing up with.

  27. About 12ish years ago, I asked an American woman who I knew a little bit from meeting at concerts over the course of a few years for a wee favour.

    I was after five Region 1 DVD boxsets that – had I ordered direct to me from Amazon, would have hit the 300 quid mark after transstlantic p&p , and the customs pricks sticking their fucking noses in. But the loophole was easy. She got the 5 sets Amazon-primed to her address, took the cellaphane off the 5, then boxed and posted them onwards as “2nd hand dvd’s, (total) value $20”

    Bingo. She actually had a free post work setup, so my DVD’s arrived & I sent her 3 fifty-dollar notes to cover the purchase price, more or less.

    She later told me that she put the 3 notes aside ‘on the bread bin’ where they sat for a few days. On the Friday, she heard a radio ad for one of those ‘Dream Home’ draws .. ‘last chance, to buy’ and the likes. ‘Ticket sales end midnight tonight’. Big mansion, guest house bigger than MY actual house .. vineyards .. and so on. She kept thinking sbout it .. the cost of the ticket? .. $150.

    You can guess the rest, cunters. At some stage that afternoon she took ‘my’ $150 down to the nearest point of sale and bought a ticket. Said the 150 just sitting by the radio when she heard the ad several times in a few hours ‘felt like a sign’ …

    The following day, she won a $2.7 million mansion.

    To this day, I feel a little bit responsible for that!

    True story. Funny old (mostly awful) world …

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