I have always been a good looking bastard.
Pulling top notch totty was never a problem for the Artful Cunter.

I have been out with a few models, one of them a Sun page 3 girl and one beauty queen.

No relationship lasted too long.

The girls were good to look at and good to be seen with, but I found them self obsessed and not particularly good company.
A bit dim really.

One girl used to get up at 4am every morning to do her hair and makeup even though she was only going to do her mundane day job.

It would take all of them hours to get ready for a night out and of course they couldn’t possibly be seen in the same clothes twice.

Constant diets meant that taking them out for a meal was a fucking nightmare.

Meeting Mrs Cunter was a pleasure.
She was and still is stunning.
An international sportswoman who is still as fit as fuck.
As far as I know she has never been on a diet and will eat anything when I proudly take her out.
She looks at least 20 year’s younger than she actually is.
She fits easily in the few clothes that she still has from 40 years ago.
She rarely wears makeup. She doesn’t need to.

Compare past models, beauty queens (and Mrs Cunter) to today’s beauties.

It’s refreshing to see that good looks and a good figure are no longer important in winning beauty titles.

Take Sara Milliken, the new Miss Alabama.

Being pig ugly and having several chins have not held her back.
Morbidly obese with a shape similar to a wheely bin.
Not a curve in sight.

The lucky cunt that gets hooked up with Sara won’t have to wait ages for her to get ready for an evening out.
She will just need to put on her culturally appropriated wig and off you go.

He won’t have to worry about where to take her to eat.
Quantity of food will win over quality every day of the week.
Any ‘All You Can Eat’ buffet that she hasn’t already been banned from will do.

Sara. You are an inspiration to all young women.

latestly.com

Nominated by The Artful Cunter.

Horrible songs that are adopted by the unwashed and rough arsed and classless britscum.

These cunts adopt a (usually shit) song and they play it to death, or sing it loudly like out of tune football hooligans when pissed. Many examples, but here are some of the worst.

Tina Turner – The Best (although most mongs wrongly call it Simply The Best)

Chumbawumba – Tub Thumping

Los Del Rio – Macarena

Adele – any of her tuneless shit

The Killers – Human

Black Eyed Peas – Shut Up

Ed Sheercunt – see Adele

Maroon 5 – Moves Like Jagger

Lewis Capaldi – see Sheercunt and Adele

And two newer ones that have become anthems for chav riff raff.

Noah Kahan – Stick Season
Shaboozey – A Bar Song (Tipsy)

These two dirges will be blaring out of numerous shitholes and dives for months.

youtube

Nominated by Norman.

Discount Andrew Tate and ‘lifestyle coach’ Wes Watson is yet another of these ‘alpha males’ or ‘high value men’ exposed for being a whining, materialistic and emotionally unstable dumbfuck live on stage.

In an on-stage debate, he lost his mind because another man had a different standard of being successful. He then revealed -without any help from feminists or the mainstream media – why this ‘red pill’ movement is such a harmful one, by berrating Wilson for his appearance and lack of material wealth.
Watson is just another grifter and vulgarian, deessed like he’s in N-Sync but with an inflated upper body.

It’s embarrassing to watch for many reasons: that this ‘man’ is some sort of guide for insecure young men who pay him to give them advice.by shouting at them, for the lack of moderation shown by the host, for the mindset of those lost men in the audience thinking they need to attend these events in the first place.

Watching this makes you wonder if the feminists had a point about toxic masculinity, althpugh they throw that term around so freely (just like misogyny) it’s now quite meaningless.

The Internet seems to have spawned a breed of scam artist, claiming to be men’s men, pushing an idea of masculinity generally held by 15 year-old boys. As usual, things seem polarised with nutcases like Watson completely deluded about his own ‘value’ and reducing masculinity to cartooninsh nonsense; the money he earns, his bicep size and physique, and what car he drives. The whole ‘red pill movement’ has degenerated into this juvenile mindset, largely because of Andrew Tate and imitators like Watson. Ot also comes with its own homosexual horoscope of Alphas, Betas and Sigmas – AKA edgy loners, rogues, school shooters

I might be cynical in saying this movement led by insecure American men in their back-to-front baseball caps was a predictable response – including the vernacular of high value knobbery and daft acronyms – to twitter/consumer feminism, an exploitative ideology in itself that has only led to more female misery,

The truth is I pity the young men who put stock in these oafish scammers, pimps and frauds, I really do.

YouTube.

Upon further research It appears -not unusually for this sort of prick – that he has vastly over estimated his wealth. Despite ownng a fleet of expensive cars, he is still worth less than one of my own relatives, who lives in a potato shed and drives a Ford pick-up…
(albeit in Surrey).

Nominated by : Cuntamus Prime

There I was, not long out of hospital, sore waterworks, feet up on the settee, feeling sorry for myself.

Then my day was brightened when I came across ‘Tempest’ (pronouns ‘xe/xem, they/them’), all blue hair and narcissistic attitude. ‘My name is Tempest’ it smirks, ‘and if you don’t want me to step on your toes, move your fucking feet’.

Holy shit. To quote John Wayne in ‘Big Jake’; ‘ya got me scared!’. Just what this ludicrous twat, and thousands of others like it, hope to gain by posting this silly passive/aggressive nonsense all over soshull meeja is anybody’s guess. They just make themselves look ridiculous, the up-their-own-arses idiots.

Still, at least they give the rest of us the chance to take the piss and have a laugh. Go on; it made me feel better, it’ll do the same for you.

tiktok

Nominated by Ron Knee.

In high dudgeon about this coffin dodging. NHS on its knees, my expectations are high with the nation’s sick laid out on trolleys in A&E corridors ignored by hospital staff for days but do they oblige? The fuck they do. The terminally ill do a Tyson Fury (the cunt) and pop open their eyes and stand up a second before the old ten count ends.

Old standbys like Aids no longer scythe down Celebs and Luvvies as in the glory days. A Dementia diagnosis just means years of food drooling from the mouth and shitting in pads but definitely not death. 
A cancer diagnosis while no doubt a salutary shock to the cunt involved can and usually does mean years of ringing that fucking bell before the happy event finally occurs.

In the old school NHS the mere mention of cancer was enough to be terminal while the cunt involved was subject to ever more invasive hacking out of the spreading nightmare in combination with brain boiling radiation and toxic chemo. The very mention of the dread diagnosis would send Yours Truly (and other cunts trying to steal my thunder – and remember cunts I never forget) rushing to get in there first and nominate my cunt. Then just like sex in later years, it never happens.

Regularly flick through my lists of past expectations looking for a forgotten runner and yes there are a lot there (which I am not about to reveal here) on trials of wonder drugs, gene therapy and surgery. Extended death and misery. My tip to those on death row, don’t fuck about with the grim reaper, get it over quickly. Besides which there are many interested parties wishing you well but do get on with it loves. Welcome over Igor, that untrained formerly East European medical assistant and accept that injection to take away your fear. Die for England and ISAC. You know it makes sense.

Health.org.

And finally may I include that tender sentiment so often bounced off my humble personage. “Fuck off and die”.

Nominated by : Sir Limply Stoke