
OK, for a bit of an ‘outside-the-box’ cunting, how about this for a nomination – my own shitcunt of a nephew. 16 years in and this cunt probably boils my piss more than any real person I know.
I’ve mentioned the cunt a few times in passing. This isn’t some ‘playing up to the crowd’ piece of familial self-flagellation here; this boy is a cunt, and in a few years time is set to become a major leaguer with his vocal, effectively extreme liberal views. No, I do not really ‘love’ him (FFS) – he represents absolutely everything I detest in modern life and neatly encapsulates almost any social issue I have ever cunted within these hallowed pages. In fact this cunting covers many topics which not only boil piss, but make the shit hang sideways in sheer anger to the point where my toilet visits resemble some kind of disgusting David Copperfield illusion show.
A bit of background – sister fucking dearest has spent her entire life ‘getting lucky’. Her serious working life summates to the grand total of 5 years after graduating; thereafter becoming the bugaboo-wielding posh-tart mummy wheeling her kids – thrice – around the suburbs and living off the money of her dentist husband.
The oldest of the three, reared on a new-age parenting diet of naughty steps, safe spaces and fucking hemp, has adequately demonstrated the severe and dangerous deficiencies of proper discipline and boundaries. This cunt got his own way from extremely early on, despite my own protestations and to his credit, even my brother-in-law tried to argue the case many times for less liberalism. But no, sister dearest knew fucking best – don’t shout at him, don’t correct him and don’t stifle him – and in dong so, raised a Frankenstein’s millennial monster cunt of unfathomable proportions.
This fucker champions LGTBXYZ, claims to be a feminist and spent the whole of GE ’17 driving everyone insane with Corbyn pro-propaganda. Never off the fucking phone for a moment, this bastard has that utterly infuriating tendency to talk in that upward inflection, interspersed with the word ‘like’ every three fucking verbs and adds that beyond-the-pale habit of a slight Atlantic twang to what should be a proper fucking whitebread Southwest accent. The cunt is so loud and obnoxious it is untrue. He has applied three times to get on QT and so far failed – it’s about the only possible good thing I can say in favour of the BBC.
It’s my own personal nightmare. Like that episode of Black Mirror where that poor fucker is consigned to spend over 1,440,000 years re-living the scene of his crime with ‘I Wish it Could be Christmas Every Day’ playing on loop; just as inhuman is my suffering with the future Owen Jones right in my fucking midst. This probably says more about me than him, but in recent years he has had targeted abuse and aggro from some other kids and I actually sympathise with them instead of him, because I know fine well what he is like. One incident saw kids inscribe on his locker “reserved for a shit”; another saw some irreverent soul just print off and post endless photoshopped images of him standing next to Bungle, Zippy and George with no caption. Each time sister mentions these incidents, I have to leave the room and laugh so fucking hard without making a sound.
It might sound cruel but he irrefutably brings all this upon himself. A superiority complex and and a sense of entitlement fostered all his life to date has molded him into one of Britain’s future all-time cunts. He stands out, even at his posh school full of obnoxious wankers, as tosspot zero. So come one, come all and don’t stand on ceremony to cunt my very own nephew. The fucking cunt.
Nominated by.The Empire Cunts Back