Emma Fairweather is in desperate need of a cunting. Who you might ask?

This was the unfortunate woman lucky to escape serious injury when the Duke of Edinburgh allegedly ploughed headlong into her path.

Sympathies of course are in order for the accident itself. What I cannot accept is the media storm she’s helping to generate in the aftermath whining that she’s had no support from Buckingham Palace. Let me ask how many times have you ever been called by the twat that ran in to the back of your car just to see if you were ok and to offer an apology. Just like you or I the stock position is to keep schtum or risk admitting liability, whether you were obviously liable or not. Same applies for royals, no doubt. Just read the line ‘Speaking on This Morning on ITV’ in one of the papers, so judge for yourself how injured she is.

I’m no royalist and of course there will be question marks whether the doddery old git who probably has a courtier to wipe his own arse should be driving by at all. But I cannot stand the utter horse shit being bandied about that she expected more support just because of who he is. Expect the Accident Lawyers are already chomping at the bit to extract a hefty compensation claim and I am sure that the phrase ‘mental scars’ will be marching into the debate with absolute probability as soon as she starts moaning that she now finds it difficult to get back behind the wheel of a car.

Nominated by Bellendoiusmaximus

The Annual WEF meeting or is that a skiing jolly for the rich and wealthy is in full swing this week.

Already blaming the world financial ills on brexit, China not buying much, because of brexit, and probably too much snow in Davos, because of, yes you guessed it Brexit.

Even LeGuard probably blames her own economic mismanagement of her alleged corruption on, yes, Brexit. (Nothing to see here).

All it needs now is the appearance of we’re all in it together 6 jobs Osbourne stuffing his face with grouse duck spread in marmite caviar, and the sighting of some prominent Tory MP talking to some dodgy Russian oligarch over the latest consignment of Novachek to Salisbury. All gloriously captured by a squad of around 70 journalists, outside broadcasts units, sent to cover this “major event”, and that’s just the AlBBC.

What exactly does the “World Economic Forum” do? Cunts.

Nominated by Speak Your Mind

The Inbetweeners Fwends Reunited 10th Anniversary Special. After my cunting of Jimmy Carr earlier, I honestly think the entire program itself could do with a cunting. Now, for the most part it was very enjoyable – but then in the last 15 minutes they resorted to the usual bog standard lazy ‘comedy’ device: the Trump joke. Then, they pulled out the Russian bots one a few minutes later. Then had Catherine Ryan (famed neverTrumper) to do a segment (which although it was unrelated to Trump there’s a clear reason why C4 got her on). What could’ve been absolutely brilliant was ruined by yet more fucking ‘lets bash the bigots’ jokes – AGAIN. Message to all so called ‘comedians’ – unless you’re South Park, injecting politics into comedy DOESN’T FUCKING WORK.

Nominated by OpinionatedCunt

Yes Gary, you have shat yourself

Gary ‘Jug Ears’ Linekunt

As we all know to our cost, Linekunt is an ardent pro-European, and boy, is he quick to let us know his views on Brexit.

Linekunt has been accused of breaking the British Broadcasting Cunts’ guidelines on impartiality, but the Director-general has said that as Jug Ears isn’t part of the BBC’s ‘news and current affairs universe’ (‘universe’, ffs! Where do they dig up this Corporatespeak b/s?), he’s free to express his views.
Now I’ve long held the view that Jug Ears is a multi-layered cunt. He’s a gormless looking, frog-eyed tosspot who gives a great impersonation of a waxworks dummy when presenting ‘Match of the Day’. He’s also an arrogant shit, for claiming that he’s actually worth the enormous sum he’s paid out of licence payers’ money; my guess is that most viewers would regard it as a great mercy if they never had to look at his ugly pan or listen to his droning voice again, as long as they fucking lived. To compound the offence of his mere existence, he’s an avaricious cunt, peddling junk food on telly adverts, and pocketing a very nice piece of change for his efforts I’ve no doubt. Then he’s an ignorant, hypocritical cunt, who told Chris Waddle to ‘stick to football’ when Waddle had the effrontery to suggest that it might be a good idea if Britain left the EU without a deal. Maybe he should take his own advice but I doubt that he will, him being so much more of an expert cunt on the matter after all…
So there we go. Linekunt isn’t to be held to such a high degree or standard of impartiality by the BBC as a news or current affairs commentator (as if anybody seriously regards the BBC’s output as impartial anymore anyhow). Well personally I hold Jug Ears to no standard whatsever, beyond the fact that he’s a 24 carat, oxygen thieving cunt.

Oh and the BBC is a cunt as well, but then you already knew that…

Nominated by Ron Knee

Wrong number callers.

I was watching the racing today when the phone rang…and rang…and rang. Eventually I decided that it must be an emergency, and I’d better answer it. Due to a very poor mobile signal, I still have a landline in the hall. Had to leave the racing and sprint (?) off to answer the fucking thing.
“Hello,is that James?”
>”No,you must have a wrong number”
“Can I speak to James?”
>”No, you fucking can’t…you’ve got the wrong number”
“But isn’t this the number for Mill House Farm?”
> “No”
“Are you sure?”
>” Fuck Off, I’ve told you, you’ve got the wrong fucking number”
“Well do you know the correct number?”
>” Do I know the correct number? I know I’ll pull yer fucking plums off if you don’t FUCK OFF YOU UTTER CUNT”

That was when I crashed the phone down. I’d missed the end of the race…still wondering if it was some Cunt who knew me, winding me up…suspicious that it came right in the middle of the big race. Luckily the Cunt forgot to block his number,so I’ve set my alarm and at 3 o’clock in the morning the Cunt’ll be receiving a phone call enquiring about his views on guinea-pigs being involved in shite-mining…that should shake the sleep out of his head…as will the half-hourly follow-up calls.

I once got a wrong number call from some either deaf or drunk imbecile wanting to book Bed and Breakfast. Couldn’t get it through to him that I was no doss-house for cheap Cunts. Took the booking. No idea yet just where the Cunt actually thought he was going, but he’ll have been in for a surprise when he got there.

Fuck Off.

Nominated by Dick Fiddler