People giving me unsolicited gifts

 

are cunts.

I’m a miserable cunt, bitter about the world and everyone in it. I have to work 7 days of the week to keep a business running, dealing with bullshit from staff and customers on a daily basis. This is while living in a country run by Stalinists who want to fuck me for all the tax they can get (and give to workshy scum of all shades), and who want to tell me I’m an evil capitalist exploiter and I should be allowed to be sued at every opportunity by lazy narcissistic tribunal trigger happy arseholes who are empowered to cause businesses endless stress whilst simultaneously complaining there’s no jobs out there. I am surrounded by lefty cunts who want to hector me about how I need to be kind to trannies, darkies, carpet kissers, immos, neuro diverse skivers, eco grifters and hirsute dungaree wearing lesbian wheelchair users.

The result of this deeply hate filled relationship with life is that, in the tiny moments of privacy I enjoy away from all of this bullshit, I want to do just what the fuck I want and not be beholden to any cunt. I want to choose where I want to be, who I want to be there with, what I want to spend my money on, what conversations I want to have and with whom, AND what crap I want to acquire for my enjoyment.

This is why I not only do not like receiving gifts from people, I positively fucking resent it. I am writing this on a Sunday morning when I have a rare opportunity to have a coffee and have some playtime on isacunt without anyone bothering me. I’m dressed only in my tattered grundies, I’m unwashed, a shocking fucking mess, and I don’t give a fuck. But one of my members of staff messages me and asks if I’m at home. What the fuck. I ask the missus what this is about, she looks guilty. She realises that she was chatting to the employee in question on Friday as he was going to London on the weekend where his brother in law is a chef in an upmarket restaurant, and he produces some top notch cakes which she politely said sounded wonderful. So, at 8.30am on the one day of the week when I might be expected to get some rest and peace and quiet, the demand is being made of me to get up, throw on some clothes, and be all fake happy and grateful. Fuck that, I’m not doing it. I said to him leave it on the doorstep, sorry I’m not in a state to receive you. He quietly drops the parcel off, a Harrods bag with cake and all sorts of goodies in it, and quietly slopes off. The missus goes and retrieves it and shows me what a cunt I am for not even managing to go and say thanks to him.

So I have, without consultation, been put in the invidious position of either doing something I don’t want to do on my morning off, or being a rude and ungrateful cunt. All for some additional shit in my life that I neither asked for nor wanted.

Whenever anyone gives me a gift I don’t fucking want it, and I consider it an arrogant liberty to demand I pretend to be happy and grateful for this gross imposition on my misery. Take your fucking gifts and stick them up your arses, I’m not gonna be happy and grateful for any cunt.

oregon live

Nominated by Balsamic Dave.

63 thoughts on “People giving me unsolicited gifts”

  1. An excellent rant, BD!
    No good deed goes unpunished, ’tis true…hence I wouldn’t dream of doing anything for anyone (except for my kids, obviously).
    All my mates and I want from each other is friendship and no-one asks anything of each other beyond attending parents’ funerals.
    BD…can you do what the CEO of my company does? He lives in America (I most run things here in leafy Oxfordshire) and comes back for a week every 2 or 3 months to shout at people and treat them with contempt, sometimes giving me leeway to fire some cunt who turned out to be useless.
    Firing an indolent, recalcitrant waster is particularly cathartic, especially if you can find a way of accusing them of gross misconduct.

      • Wash your norrf an’ saaarf aaaht with soap, arfur.
        As I do most of the interviewing, can you imagine who gets employed?!
        Whites and Poles.
        Our business is proudly darkıe-free and, God willing, always will be!

    • Afternoon Thomas, I’m a bit slow off the mark today…I have no choice but to be present for the day to day running of this business, as without myself and my partner in and amongst the staff every day it would collapse overnight as the cunts are all too thick and lazy to be trusted; but I do follow all of your official guidelines when it comes to hiring and firing!

  2. Oh, I love surprises.

    Especially those unsolicited emails that invite me to
    ” click here to open your free gift!”

    Fuck off!
    You’re blocked.

  3. I received a dog turd wrapped in paper through the letterbox with a note.

    ” EAT THIS AND CHOKE YOU CUNT!!

    typically it was the wrong colour.
    and wasn’t even fresh.

  4. Oh how I long for those days when the news media reported on those fellows sharing the gift that is Monkeypox..

    Another gift snatched away as the media turns its attention elsewhere,like why King Charles is a cunt etc.

  5. What about, you’ve done such a wonderful job, here’s a thousand quid for your effort. Oops ! Sorry, I just realised you’re a miserable cunt and wouldn’t dare annoy you.

  6. I used to love the free gifts that you got with comics. The Beezer, Beano, Buster and so on. Folded card and brown paper for a wicked bang to frighten teacher, a plastic hopping spider, a toy paratrooper with a polythene parachute, and a thing that fired flying saucers. All totally brilliant, They never gave away a catapult like Dennis the Menace used, but there was a once ripping pea shooter. More innocent times. Kids nowadays would think that they were for shoving up their arses.

    • Remember TT, the collapsing animal once you pushed the underneath and let it go, it came alive again. I’m sure they wouldn’t think it would be too stressful today ? Yes they would.

  7. I gifted Dave Mustaine a paperback copy of Frederick Forsyth’s ‘The Fist of God’ on MY frikken’ birthday in 2007.

    Explained to him if he read chapter 1 right through, he’d then read all 600 pages.

    Dunno if he ever did.

    As for BD’s unwanted gifts problem, that’s easily sorted. Have nothing whatsoever to do with anyone unecessary on a personal level, ever.

    Worked for me! You have to commit, though. The method provides a heap of other benefits too. Time burned at weddings, funerals, parties etc. out of politeness or whatever? … Nope!

    And so on … 🙂

    • He was probably high as a kite on heroin, Cuntemall…no time for reading.
      How Megadeth ever got any music finished twixt ’88 and ’94 is anyone’s guess!

      • Indeed, Gawdblessim!

        In actuality, though, he was perfectly gentlemanly. I had to check the subsequent album to see if the basis OF T.F.O.G had made it into lyrics …. ; it had not. 😄

    • The Canadian eu shadow administrator welcomes the eu ambition for Canada to become a eu associated member. In the UK, the eu shadow administrator agrees with this proposal.

  8. Sam, you want ignorance try a trainload of yanks in a train. Every cunt managed to bang into me as I was sat in the aisle seat. They didn’t like my advice of look where you’re going you cunt. One twat even fell into my lap, I told her sorry I wasn’t in the mood for slap and tickle.
    She had the advice of three points of contact e.g. two feet and one hand on the headrests.
    Enjoyable trip though I must say. The Canadian Rockies on a train, well worth it.
    We were sat waiting for breakfast and we had to move for a pair of Karens, my advice of move your fucking arses a bit quicker fell on deaf ears. I was hoping she wanted to speak to a manager.

  9. Count yourself lucky that ‘giving people presents’ has metamorphasised into competitive ‘Gifting’. Back in the early 2000s your colleagues were more likely to give you the likes one of those Billy Bass singing cunting fishes.

  10. Please don’t take offence anyone but using the noun “gift” as a verb is yet another grammatical error from the States. It really grates on me I’m afraid. The verb is of course “to give”.

  11. Im always underwhelmed by gifts.
    its like people dont know me or something.

    I’m awkward, dont really like surprises and prefer to choose things myself.

    ” its the thought that counts…”
    bullshit.

    They’ve clearly not thought at all.
    the useless cunts.

    Most things get thrown straight in the bin.

    I dont drink lager, its a girls drink
    I dont like chocolate since the yanks ruined it.
    I dont like any clothes I haven’t chosen myself
    and I don’t wear perfume or shave.

    just give me the money

  12. I was given 50p for my birthday when I was six. Despite the feeling of wealth I was disappointed as I needed 70p to become a Warlord Secret Agent. That extra 30p was difficult but I got there. Along with the badge there was a card for writing your name and address and another detailing Morse code along with a signal mirror. Only trouble, no one to signal. That was 70p I never saw again.

  13. What if Dave, one of your clients offered you a month’s stay in their holiday home in a lovely part of the world, with all expenses paid. Turning that down, you would be No.1 whatever you call it.

    • I have clients in that situation Sammy, trust me, you don’t want to be indebted to them in that way. One such client, in fact, terminates relationships with his business associates via the expedient of nearly lethal violence.

      Nope, pay your invoice and be on your way please, no gifts thank you.

  14. Best recent gifts ive gotten are

    A) a French military bayonet 1883 called the ‘bloody Rose’

    B) a Hawksmoor 41cc petrol chainsaw.

    both nice.

    I’d like other things though.
    5 acre of farmland
    pickup truck
    a fatwa on Paloma faith
    an a etchasketch.

  15. My charitable act today was to donate a rather smelly fart in our local supermarket. It fucking stank. I told the Mrs I had donated and she rapidly altered course to another aisle.

    • And, the muck that is Ange gets loads of free shit from all over the place. She even ‘demands’ freebies on official government note paper.

      As I have said before, she is the grimiest, the muckiest, the filthiest, the absolute diritest.

  16. Complaining can get you free stuff.

    My mum kept getting leaky milk cartons in her online order so when she went in to the store she complained and they gave her a free bunch of flowers and her choice of a joint of meat. She then complained to me that she wish she had asked for the beef joint instead of the pork one because it was more expensive.

    • Cannot take anything our laughing stock King says seriously ever.

      The cunt thinks Camilla is attractive, wants to be her tampon, and he has conversations with plants.

      Th cunt is clinically insane.

  17. Was my birthday Saturday last. My mates in the kidney unit had a whip round and they gave me a 50 quid voucher. Better when it’s something like that.

    What I do hate is Lynx. Overpriced poofy smelling shite, and – as a deodorant – it is bloody useless. If some knob gets me a set at Christmas, I just pass it on to some other cunt.

  18. My birthday is a sad day in Casa Cunter.

    One card on display, received from Mrs Cunter.
    It’s the one night of the year where she pays for a meal out and drinks.

    For the rest of the year I pay for everything.
    I’m not complaining about that, I think that a guy should always pay.

    She would probably have taken me out for clothes shopping a few days before and brought me a T-shirt or something, so I will have no presents on the day.

    It would be nice to get something from someone.
    A hand written card or just a phone call would be appreciated.

    But that has never happened.

    That’s the reward for being such a cunt.

  19. I’ve been retired from work for years, but have similar experiences as you. I developed xenophobia at an early age, after enjoying a blissful life amongst white families and friends. Now after a thorough search I’m fortunate to be living in a similar area of nostalgia not far short of where I similarly began.

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