and other Labour hypocrites are cunts.

For years Labour, pretending to be the new Greens have been wailing on about “Net Zero” – to be fair so have a few of the more limp wristed Tories, but this weekend this sinister looking son of Neil (he looks just like one of those murderers from the early 20th century photographed on their way to the gallows), has really been pushing the boat out feigning “shock” at the loss of thousands of jobs in the steel industry. Just four years ago he was calling for an end to blast furnaces in his unachievable quest for “net zero”, now this weekend he has become a positive wailing wall of outrage, as Tata have taken him and his pansy friends at their word:

Just like dad, he thinks the unions can solve it. Like fuck they will.

Tata, the Chinky company have found a convenient excuse to cut the wage bill, thanks to wankers like Kinnock, but it stands to reason that if you close part of your operation down you will need less staff. If we are all going to be knitting our own muesli, every industry will downsize. Some will disappear entirely It is to the eternal shame of Kinnock and his poofter friends in Labour they didn’t realise that every “green” action has consequences. It is the likes of this shitstain, who didn’t think things through, that have the audacity to think they can “manage” the decline of this shithole of a country that relies on letting in scum on rubber boats via the RNLI, and giving them jobs in the care sector, and living on the soap opera that is Harry and Meghan, and actually make it “great” again. Such pie in the sky thinking shows the total lack of grey matter in our political parties. We will only make money by hiring out Angela Rayner’s quim, and making sure she permanently has her legs open for any passing trade, at £20 a time – double that if she is prepared to take it up the shitter (she will!) – forget all Rachel Reeves waffle, she says the words written for her, but she has fuck all idea how to do it. She can’t even fart till Starmer gives her the OK.

Green means expensive, hard to get, impractical , – (If we had had to rely in sun and wind this past week for power we would have frozen to death) – and unemployment. This matters not a whit to the Greens who will never be in power anyway. Every cloud has a silver lining and at least mass unemployment will save the delicate feelings of Emily Thornberry – Lady Nugee – from more of those frightful working class people that cause her such distress. It is Lord Nugee I feel sorry for – imagine having to see her naked, all 40 stone of her, the tits down to her kneecaps, the arse wobbling about like two giant suet puddings that have escaped from their cloths, the varicose veins, piles and the stink of Preparation H and the double chins applauding themselves like a small audience at the Ronnie Scott club – and that is just the glamorous side to life with Lady Lardarse. Just wait till she lets herself go on the lavatory seat, discharging all those snacks and booze. poor Lord Nugee….

Of course, Kinnock junior is worried because his constituency is the main victim in this first tranche of green madness. There are precious few blast furnaces in Islington and Holborn. One hopes that Tata could become his “Jennifer’s Glue Ear” moment, which did for his old dad, but, no – you just know that the fools will go on voting for this chinless wonder who is only an MP because, like Hilary Benn, his dad used to be a big name in the Labour party. Thank God Euan Blair wasn’t tempted to follow his camp old dad. Then again Euan might have been the milkman’s – I bet Cherie was a bit of a goer, especially when Anthony was cottaging. they still had them, – then. Another trade that seemed safe for ever, but look at us now.

yahoo

Nominated by W. C. Boggs.

I love little Nic Nic. Like Corbyn and Davey, she’s one of those politicians that just keep on giving; a gift to cunters everywhere, so I make no apologies for sticking a size ten boot in again.

She’s not got her troubles to seek right now. Already up to her dirty thick neck in the scandal surrounding the SNP’s financial shenanigans, she’s now beset by accusations of trying to frustrate the investigations of the UK Covid-19 Inquiry.

The inquiry has been told that Sturgeon has deleted all WhatsApp messages relating to the handling of the pandemic, in spite of previously commiting to hand over all correspondence.

Scots Tory leader Douglas Ross has stated that ‘Sturgeon and John Swinney have huge questions to answer over their conduct’. Chipping in his two penn’orth, Scots Lib Dem leader Alex Cole-Hamilton made no bones about his belief that Sturgeon had destroyed vital evidence. He stated ‘this is rotten to the core. Everyone knew from the start that there would be a public enquiry, so to delete messages on an industrial scale is shameful. Even Nixon didn’t destroy the Watergate tapes’.

So first it was Salmondgate. Then it was Campervangate. Now it’s Covidgate. I’m really not looking forward with much enthusiasm to Legohead’s autobiography. Who wants to part with cash for a 700 page book, 600 of which are blank, and the remainder heavily redacted?

Sturgeon is about as much good as a nine-bob note. A Scottish one at that.

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Nominated by Ron Knee.

Below follows a beautiful piece of prose by Geordie Twatt.

I’d like to second Ron’s nomination of yesterday with a short parable entitled ‘The room at the top of the house’.

Once upon a time there lived a family called Mr and Mrs Albion and their daughter Nicola, who was born with a chip on her shoulder. Their house used to be very grand, in fact the grandest in the street, but the Albions weren’t so rich now and their house was falling down..

When Nicola became a teenager she started getting very stroppy and demanded to leave home. To placate her, Mr and Mrs Albion said Nicola could have the room at the top of the house for herself. So that’s where she lived, but rather than being grateful she became more and more rude to and critical of her parents, and always wanted more money from them which they gave her.

Her friends wanted to help, so they clubbed together and lent some money to Nicola for a deposit on a flat, so she could move out and live independently of her parents. But Nicola didn’t really want to move out, she enjoyed the comforts of home too much, so instead she spent the money on herself. Her friends were annoyed and told the Police who said they would investigate where the money had gone, but they were just pretending.

Rather than looking after the room at the top of the house, Nicola turned it into an unruly mess. She didn’t fancy clearing up her own mess, which she blamed on her parents, so she abandoned it and went back to her old bedroom.

Mrs and Mrs Albion were getting very short of money now, so they decided to rent the room at the top of the house to Mr Yousaf. Unfortunately he turned out to be just as bad as Nicola, and instead of contributing to the household budget he became a drain on it. One day he asked the Albions if a member of his family could came and stay with them, and being very kind-hearted they said ‘yes’. Later more members of the Yousaf family came to live in the Albions’ house, but this time without asking.

Eventually every room in the house was occupied by members of the Yousaf family, all of them living off the Albions, who were having to work harder and harder to pay for them all. Eventually Mr and Mrs Albion died from overwork and exhaustion, and Nicola was pleased because, truth be told, she had always hated her parents.

‘We can all live happily ever after now without my horrible parents’ said Nicola to Mr Yousaf. Unfortunately the Yousafs had other ideas. ‘This is our house now, and you’re not welcome’ said Mr Yousaf as he threw Nicola out of the house.

Nicola had lost her friends, her parents and her house, and in her mind it was all the fault of her parents. All she had left now as she wandered the streets alone was the chip on her shoulder.

who can’t control and indulge every whim of their idiot children.

For a single bloke with no kids of my own I’ve grown pretty tolerant of children since my twenties, especially after becoming an uncle, but I don’t think my niece would be allowed to ride her bike around a supermarket with her hood up, getting in the way of shoppers carrying boxes of wine and beer.

It doesn’t help when that person is a 19-20-stone builder with a bad back and size 13 boots.

Get out of the fucking way.

Or, as I said at the time as the child vanished from view and collided with my knee, ‘OOOOIIAAAYY!?!’

The mum saw I was fuming and apologised (jokingly) but patted her dear little sprog on its hooded head.

I could definitely feel the steam rising off of my head as i walked across the car park carrying the shopping to my van.

Why do these middle-class tossers have to indulge their brats’ every whim?

Riding bikes around fucking supermarkets when you’re knee high, and wearing your hood up so you can’t see anything or anyone around you?

Is there a man at home? You can bet he’s a wet liberal twat with a man-bun who works from home, or the type who commutes from London and never sees the fuckers, or one of these louche Robert Peston-looking cunts who wear scarfs around their pencil necks until about mid may and red trousers.

Nearly as absent minded as the sister-in-law, the thick twats.

Msn.com

Nominated by Cuntamus Prime.

Harry Prince of fuck all is a 24 carat gold plated cunt,

Turns out this royal buffoon is about to accept an award for services to aviation. Turns out this cunt who makes 2 short planks look like a computer never passed his pilots license and could only be a Co pilot or gunner!

Can you imagine him, what are all these flashing lights, is it Christmas?,,,,, oooh is that a machine gun,,,, no Harry you pleb, those are our soldiers and we haven’t even taken off yet ffs.

Anyway, put down your drinks, this is the best bit, this ginger fuck knuckle is collecting his award alongside Buzz Aldrin. So that’s the level they are comparing this useless fucking orangutan to, you know fighter pilot, first man to walk on the moon and countless other heroic feats having his award turned into some meaning less peace of tat all because Meagain bitch is up for the same award, for doing next to fuck all.

In fact it makes you wonder about what the other royal pilots actually did, cunts to all involved in this fucking farce.

If I was Buzz I would be telling them to insert their award sideways….

Express News

YouTube

Nominated by: Fuglyucker

(I wonder if this cunt will volunteer to fly with the RAF should there be a WWIII with the Ruskies? – Day Admin)

Is, of course, a song by Kate Bush. Now this cunting is not aimed at Kate. I admire her and always have done.

The song is a good one too. However, I am sick to death of hearing it.

Every radio station – every single one – keeps playing this song. As if it’s the only record that Kate ever made. This is obviously down to that overidealised faux eighties dogmuck Stranger Things featuring the song.

The fact that sundry septics and millennials thought Kate Bush was a ‘new discovery’ and an ‘up and coming singer’ was hilarious enough. But British media is also acting like it is the only thing that Kate has ever done. Do they play Army Dreamers? Breathing? Sat In Your Lap? Or her Number One, Wuthering Heights? No,the cunts play Running Up That Hill . All the time, every time.

I love her as an artist (and for other reasons). But clueless knobheads should know that there is more to her than just one song.

And here is the lovely lady in her pomp with another song…

You Tube

Nominated by: Norman