It’s just gone three pm, and I’m standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus that was due at twelve minutes to the hour. No sign of it of course, nor of the one that was due on the hour. No wonder people are so reluctant to get out of their cars and onto public transport. That goes double when you’re sunk in the depths of a fucking cheerless December.

Speaking of cars, I’m on the way to the garage to retrieve ours, where it’s been to get body repairs after the wife banjoed it for the third time this year. I won £500 on the Premium Bonds earlier this month, guess what I’m spending my winnings on. The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away. It’s really enhanced my good humour has that.

I’m not feeling great physically; I’ve got a persistently dripping nose, a headache, and my throat feels as though it’s been sandpapered. I’m starting to cough as well. Some vicious winter lurgy bug has got its vile tentacles into me I fear, an all too frequent occurrence at this time of year.

I feel low mentally too, it’s the sort of day to kill any sense of enjoyment. The light’s fading fast, although it was never anything other than dull and dreary to start with. If we’ve not hit freezing point yet we’re not far from it, and a miserable, keening wind is driving the sleet that’s begun to fall. I can’t stop shivering, can’t feel any warmth in my hands and feet.

And you’ll hear people say how much they love this time of year; ‘oh I just love to get in, pull the curtains and put the fire on, make a nice pot of tea, and settle in to watch Corrie’. Cosmic. Then you’ve got the hearty types, who’ll tell you how bracing it is, breathing in the refreshing freezing air after the debilitating heat of a British summer. Yeah right.

My, and there’s months of this dreekness ahead of us to endure before there’s another chance to sit in the garden with a nice glass of wine, just savouring the summer. I can’t wait to get to Gran Canaria for a bit of sun and warmth, for the chance to ditch the deep winter blues for a while. You can stick the winter in that other place where the sun don’t shine.

Give me an Em… ‘Whoa baby I got them deep winter blues

nhs

Nominated by Ron Knee.

From all of us at Admin Mansions, to all cunters everywhere…

– ISAC Admin Team

It’s comforting to know that our hard-working MPs will once again be tucked up nice and warm in their homes for another winter, courtesy of UK taxpayers.

independent

Of course some of our pensioners won’t be so lucky now that our munificent government has taken the axe to the Winter Fuel Payment, after swearing blind before the general election that it wouldn’t.

Still, our suffering pensioners can heart from the fact that their sacrifice will enable old ‘TwoTierNeverHereFreeGear’ and his band of rogues to continue spending
billions on setting up illegal migrants in comfort, not to mention sending more billions in freebies abroad.

I’m just surprised that they didn’t do away with the £10 Christmas bonus while they were about it. Still, there’s always next year for that. All together now…

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Nominated by Ron Knee.

Ignorant school drop-out Angela Rayner has only one area of expertise – dropping her knickers, boasting about getting pregnant at 15, her daughter carrying on the family tradition, and stealing the husband of Mrs. Tarry, then dropping him (the only one we know about). She is a coarse, vulgar whore, the sort of street woman that not that many years ago you could have “had” for a pound or thirty shillings in Portsmouth docks.

Why on earth then does Dame Kweer allow her to decimate the English countryside – the only bit of our heritage not ruined beyond repair by successive governments of both colours.

We all know why this scabby, bow legged raddled walking STD has been allowed to do it, and that is to provide housing for the illegal immigrants that have already arrived, and will continue to rise under the flabby faced brainless cunt of a Prime Minister, who with his greasy white makeup looks like an embalmed corpse.

Labour scum. I’d say fuck her, but far too many already have.

bbcnews

Nominated by W C Boggs.

is a cunt.

Congratulations to this young feller who’s just beaten all his competitors to win Fashion Awards Model Of The Year 2024. In a ceremony at the Royal Albert Hall, this young alphabet boy said, “No matter what anybody says around you, you are that bitch, and you will be that bitch, and you will be as successful as you want to be as long as you follow that.”

Oddly, he was wearing a dress, a Union Jack dress, so perhaps he was pretending to be a woman.

Well done to this gender-confused, young dude for having the courage to be able to walk down a catwalk better than his female colleagues.

What a load of bollocks – and I’m not talking about what this pervert tucks past his gooch every day when he plays hide the dinosaur.

He needn’t put a pair of knickers on his head to pretend he’s a cunt.

yahoo news

Nominated by Captain Magnanimous.