Harrods. The Emporium of Cunts

So was down Harrods the old corner shop buying in a brace of well hung pheasant. A dish of putrid foul is just the ticket by way of fuelling a fellow up to perform the necessary.

As one browsed one found oneself enjoying the blissful sensation of silken fairy fingers running up and down the old horseprong. Damn me, customer service in the place is spot on. Improvement since it was anschlussed by that dodgy kraut Rowland. Then fucking Diana in his dreams Al-Fayed. Now run by a second gypo tosser but tip me tipfer. Quite the way to meet and greet.

Next thing the old wallet was flying out me plus fours. Damn Food Hall was like a Romanian Circus full of little degenerates on the nick. Aimed a swift kick to the bollocks of the little cunt up me trousers before he was orf with me credit cards. Store security my arse. By God I let them have it.

“Beware Harrods is overrun by little fuckers on the nick. Summon to me the squalid little wog that runs the place!”

A reasonable enough request you will agree. But did the greasy little toerag appear before me by way of obsequeous apology? Gentlemen, I was given the old heave ho. Propelled out the door by a pair of size twelves to the arse.

What more to expect from another paranoid cowardly little fucking Diana’s underware in his dreams type Qatari cunt? Harrods, an Emporium of Cunts.

Nominated by : Sir Limply Stoke

Misery me musicians like Leonard ‘whinging cunt’ Cohen are a genre from the dark side. Dog’s died, facing a disbility allowance reappraisal and the bastard bailiffs are at the door again? Run a nice hot bath, get in, settle down and open your veins while playing any Smiths album in the background..

Or there is Mister Misery Lou (Berlin) Reed, Elvis (don’t make me laugh) Costello and old wail of despair Bawb Dylen. Point is for the depressing cunts our misery is their pension. Every time one of their songs is played they receive a royalty. Every time some poor punter fills his car up for the last time on the way to Beachy Head one of those cunts gets a royalty. Every time some terminally ill fucker buys a one way ticket to Switzerland one of those cunts gets a royalty.

Neil Young, Lou Reed, Joy Division, Katatonia, Morrisey…ja ja ve kill you without drugs here. Music to slit your throat to…

I can only bear to lift the coffin lid on a few of the misery merchants. I leave the rest to stronger cunters than I.

Nominated by : Sir Limply Stoke