West Ham? Don’t talk to me about those cunts.
They’re forever blowing bubbles. So was Michael Jackson and look what happened to him.
Nominated by: London Cunt
Author Archives: A Cunt Who Cunts Cunts
John McCririck
Absurdist ginger dyed gee-gees cunt commentator stands front of camera wearing crap pound shop bling doing the bookies Tic-Tac hand jive and tossing himself orf while he speaks. Dunno what the cunt is Prick-Wanking but the reply he gets back from the racing fraternity is always two fingers.
Bald cunt hence never seen without embarrassing titfer. Only possible advantage was he at least reduced screen time of fuck frightener Clare Balding. Now lost that battle so suggest he follows the old dyke mantra and go FUCK ORF AND DIE.
Nominated by: Sir Limply Stoke
Turner Prize
The Turner prize panel should get a cunting.
Tracy bloody Emin’s manky bed was bad enough but when they awarded it to someone who made a light go off and on in an empty room they reached Lloyd Grossman levels of pretentiousness.
Bunch of arty cunts.
Nominated by: London Cunt
Brookes and Coulson
Brookes and Coulson are inextricably linked, their alleged criminal cuntspiracy plain for all to see in the dock of the Old Bailey, and thus these evil, amoral scumbags deserve joint nomination as cunt of the highest order, namely the CBC or Commander of British Cuntitude.
Now it turns out that this gruesome twosome have been knobbing each other, thus compounding their vile cuntitude a hundredfold.
In any other industry, the discovery of a clandestine shagfest between two senior executives would have been pounced on eagerly by these spiteful tabloid cunts, splashed all over the front pages day after day, sanctimoniously banging on about “the public’s right to know” and hounding the individuals concerned (and their families) until one or the other resigned.
But Fleet Street never turns its spotlight on itself and so those who work there need not conform to the exceptionally high standards of conduct that the hypocritical cunting newspapers expect of everyone else, thereby allowing Brooks and Coulson (and all their feral colleagues) to shag, lie, bully and allegedly break laws for many years with apparent impunity.
Originally I’d planned to conclude with the line “Hang The Cunts”, but that seemed a little too forgiving for Brookes and Coulson. And with Bonfire Night approaching, I’ve been inspired to suggest something even better. Let’s go to the Olympic Park and build a massive pyre out of every issue of The Sun and The News Of The World that this pair of cunts ever edited… Then lash Brooks and Coulson to the back doors of tabloid scumbag Paul McMullen’s famous “undercover van” and have The Stig drive it from the News International HQ at Wapping to the Olympic Park. The cunts might be a tad sore when they arrive so probably a good idea to give them a good rub down with salt and lighter fuel before the main event.
Hang signs around their necks proclaiming “I AM CUNT” in letters cut from Sun and NOTW headlines and hoist them to the top of the pyre. Then set the whole fucking monstrosity alight and enjoy the spectacle of a packed stadium cheering as these cunts burn. To be televised on primetime Saturday night television too, just after the Lottery. Now that’s what I call a proper fucking jackpot. CUNTS!
Nominated by: Fred West
Old Jug Ears
His Royal Cuntishness Charles, Prince of Wales, expects us to believe he doesn’t want to be King. Like fuck he doesn’t! Wouldn’t put it past him to push the old girl down the stairs at Buck House.
Mind you, who wants a tree hugging, womanising old scrote like him in the top job anyway? And Queen Camilla – fuck that! Well, actually I wouldn’t but you know what I mean.
Tonight’s the night. We need a guy for the bonfire.
Nominated by : Dioclese