Tentative Steps With The Lockdown

So there I am in my old pyjama leg ‘mask’. I look like a fucking Ninja Turtle. She opens the door and I take my first tentative step outside. But that graphic showed that the virus hangs in the air. I want to turn back but she won’t let me.
The road is long (to the garage) and so is the list.
‘I must have Worcester Sauce: ‘ ‘I must have Baby Wipes non fragranced’.
I tentatively tiptoe out the backyard, tentatively opening the gate, tentatively turning left, peering round onto the street. Is there anyone around? No, oh off I go.
I suppose the ‘hunter gatherers’ would stride out manfully to go and get food. I am like a squirrel crossing the main road.
Then the country path. I cannot even stop and give Willow a pat so desperate I am to get thing done.
The lights of the garage. Do I check the balance? No. Don’t take the risk.
There’s a security woman on the door. We have to queue two metres. But some don’t respect it and I’m so far back others jump in.
I tentatively enter. Where is the basket? Down at the counter. But the arrows point I should go the other way. I follow the arrows all the way round to get the basket. Then I start again. By this time I feel so nervous I abandon the list and just start throwing items from the shelves in as I pass.
Did that woman just cough? He looks as though he could have it.
Must get the milk and bread. But the aisle is narrow. Am I two metres away from him? No way. I must just rush in.
Terror no chicken steaks. Will she eat tinned fish? She hates fish.
Oh thank God there are some Chocolate Buttons.
The counter. They put a barrier up so you only put through one item at time. So slow.
Now the dreaded paying with the card. No one has cleaned it since the last time. Remember not to touch your face on the way back. OK.
Forgetting not to touch my face under the pressure of it all I rush home as fast as I can.
‘Where is the…?’ You didn’t get the….?
They are taking tentative steps in Italy, Spain to ease the lockdown. I do so want to walk with ease again.

Nominated by Miles Plastic

Dr Chaand Nagpaul is a moaning about racism cunt.

Unsurprisingly the story was in the Guardian, the British Medical Association chair Dr Chaand Nagpaul, has urged the government to look in to why the first 10 doctors to die of covid-19 were black, Asian or a minority. He says things like it could be that ethnic doctors fear they may be bullied if they ask for PPE, and that they were less likely to raise concerns for fear of being reprimanded as opposed to their white counterparts. Fuck off you daft cunt, he even acknowledged at the start of the article that black and minority employees make up 44% of NHS staff. Well there you go you thick fucker, it’s clearly a mathematical certainty that more black employees will die if they make up nearly half the work force.

He also goes on to say that it’s sad because all but one of these black or Asian doctors were not born here, and have moved here to give their lives for the NHS. I don’t believe they did; I believe they moved here for a better life and security for their families and clearly to walk straight in to a job. I appreciate they were helping to save lives, but they didn’t come here specifically to give their lives for the cause like a soldier does, they were already here when the outbreak occured, just like the white doctors who are here.

If I were you Dr Nagpaul, I’d be concerned why only 14% of NHS staff are from England and Wales! If that figure were for black and ethnic minorities you’d be screaming discrimination. But no it’s only racist when it suits your cause. You fucking hypocritical cunt.

Nominated by elcuntio

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2020/apr/10/uk-coronavirus-deaths-bame-doctors-bma

MOUTH BREATHING JOGGING CUNTS

Whilst trying to keep Cabin Fever at bay from the Chinky Bat Bollocks Flu, I go for my allowed once a day exercise. During my walk I have to contend with wheezing, panting, sweating cunts jogging past me coughing, spluttering and spraying me with sweat. These fucking cunts boil my piss when there isn’t a Pandemic. There’s just something about them, the ‘look at me, I’m fitter than you, I jog, look at my new running shoes’. I’ve got one thing to say to you cunts,‘’Freddie Fit’. Supposed king of jogging who died from a heart attack outside whilst you’ve guessed it ‘jogging’. The irony of it is, he was probably found on the floor by two pissed up, fag smoking fat cunts who were both eating a fish cake at the time.

Nominated by Bob Frapples

Match Of The Day are cunts.

With the football season fucked, the BB of C have decided that Match Of The Day will return on Saturday nights featuring ‘classic highlights’.

When I heard of this I thought of a vintage football bonanza. Featuring the likes of Best, Bowles, Currie, Marsh, R. Charlton, Greaves, Law, Keegan, Dalglish, Lorimer, Giles, Greenhoff, Pearson, Ardiles, Hoddle, Withe, Morley, Jordan, Robson, Whiteside, Wark, Muhren, Tueart, Bell and many other greats.

But we won’t get that. It will be Premier League and recent World Cups all the way.. For some reason the ‘Beeb’ now think that football was invented in 1992. Well they can fuck off.

Nominated by Norman

Coronabonds – If the situation wasn’t so serious, you’d piss yourselves laughing. Oh what the heck, go on; have a good laugh anyway at the absurdity of the ‘all for one, one for all’ European Union.

After much back-biting and in-fighting, the EU has finally agreed on a £430 billion rescue package to give aid to member states devastated by the appalling Coronavirus pandemic. The arguments rage on though, and there’s clearly still an awful lot of bitterness and resentment rattling around in the Union of Brotherly Love, most of it, it appears, being levelled at the poor old Netherlands. Yes the unfortunate Dutch are being vilified for blocking demands from (amongst others) Spain, France, and in particular Italy, for so-called ‘Coronabonds’, whereby debt would be ‘mutualised’ (ie; shared, or pooled) between the nations of the EU.

The flak is fairly flying in the direction of Amsterdam. Portugal’s PM Antonio ‘Cheeky Cunt’ Costa has even had the gall to question the future role of the Dutch in the EU. He stated ‘there is at least one country in the Eurozone that resists understanding that a shared common currency implies a common effort. Naturally I’m referring to The Netherlands’. Dutch Finance Minister Wopke Hoekstra is standing firm however, and insisting that ‘The Netherlands is and will remain opposed to (Corona)bonds’.

Well can you really blame the Dutch? Coronabonds; now there’s a fucking brilliant idea if ever I heard one, an idea whose time most definitely has not come. Profligate countries could go on a spending spree and run up ever greater mountains of debt, and then saddle the fiscally prudent with the responsibility of repaying huge chunks of what’s owed by the spendthrifts. Great idea if you’re Portuguese, Spanish, Polish, Greek or Italian; an absolute fucking nightmare if you’re Dutch or German.

All for one and one for all, huh? What a joke. For the most part, it’s much more a case of ‘what’s yours is mine, what’s mine’s my own’. Watching this shambles unfold, I cannot for the life of me understand why so many in the UK remain so utterly devoted to the idea of scrambling back aboard the Eurotanic, as it’s starting to display all the signs of being holed below the waterline. I’m just grateful for the fact that we’ve gotten out by the skin of our teeth. Things are going to get pretty bad for us here in the UK, but at least we won’t have those cunts in Brussels thinking that they’re free to dip their sticky fingers into our coffers anymore.

And in closing, I’d say this to the amiable, industrious and prudent Dutch; when this Covid-19 horror is over, come and join us. Leave all those cunts in southern and eastern Europe standing there with their begging bowls extended, and in the meantime, keep telling them to stick their Coronabonds up their arses.

Nominated by Ron Knee