Older cunters may recall that this meme, based on the cheery keepcalmandcarryonitude of lovable Cockernees under sustained air bombardment by the Luftwaffe, persisted for some time after WW2, and indeed until rationing came to an end in the 50’s. During rationing, incidentally, the UK population’s nutritional status was never better.

In fact, the Blitz spirit consisted of the realisation that between a government with emergency powers and high explosive falling on you all night there was really fuck-all you could do about anything, and the only sensible alternative to carrying on – calmly or not – was cutting your throat. The number of suicides actually declined during the Blitz. Sense prevailed.

The same realisation is now seeping through the population as it faces the prospect of a slightly lethal infection and a light cull of the elderly and infirm. The number of deaths is predicted to be rather less than the number of civilians killed during the Blitz, but the economic impact (insert rant on the subject of globalised supply chains, crooked finance houses, stock market gamblers etc, etc) is probably going to be comparable, lacking the post-WW2 will to rebuild productive capacity and do something more useful than sell each other coffee.

However, the Blitz Spirit, as invoked by the tabloids, and implied by Johnson doing his daily Churchill parody, ain’t going to happen. Our diverse, woke and increasingly criminal population has long forgotten the concepts of deferred gratification and stoic endurance in the face of having your street blown apart and having to eat whalemeat…and not much of that.

What prompted this nom was a dirty contractor’s van outside. In the mud on the back was inscribed:

“No toilet rolls in here”

Which absolutely says it all.

Nominated by Komodo

‘Holy crap….what was that!?…I’m freaking out right now…holy shit…did you hear that?…dude…dude, are you alright?…I’m trying to get my head around this right now…

I actually believe in ghosts. Or rather the Supernatural. So, to my mind, they are playing with fire. I better say it’s Mrs P who likes to watch them.Yes, playing with fire, because I do hear things on them that are disconcerting. You know, cunters, the possession of the boy (changed to girl for the film) that ‘The Exorcist’ was based on came from him playing the Ouija board with a Spiritualist aunt. So I firmly believe in demonic possession. So playing, fucking about with the supernatural is dangerous.

Back to our modern day Ghost Hunters. There they are, with their magnetic field readings and digital cameras – the snowflakiest of snowflakes out for a thrill. They’re ‘researching’, you see. It’s pitiful really. They’re so jumpy…even the slightest sound and they’re off running. And when its all over, the ‘what have we learned?’. ‘We’ve faced our fear and I’m proud of that’. The evidence? A tiny spot of light or ‘orb’, as they called it. Grainy footage of some slight movement at the end of a corridor. Bullshit really. But there was that noise me and Mrs P pricked our ears up at. Yes, what was that? Mrs P has gone to sleep now and I’m ok writing this, but I often feel funny when I have watched one of them. Funny coincidences in my mind. Not moving objects or anything, just strange things in my mind.

I feel unnerved. As though a spirit has come through the television set and is affecting me.

Nominated by Miles Plastic

Over the course of its existence, the EU has established a reputation for outstanding achievement in one area of activity. The plutocrats of Brussels, aided by an army of petty bureaucrats, have successfully created mountains of regulations and mile upon mile of red tape.

Unfortunately, the EU’s reputation for crisis management is lower than a snake’s belly. The bloc currently faces two huge emergencies. Firstly, there’s the ongoing migrant crisis, focused at the moment on the border between vassal member state Greece and an increasingly belligerent Turkey. Then there’s the existential threat posed by Coronavirus; in addition to the massive toll of human misery, the epidemic is likely to flush an economic shitstorm down the pipe.

Now I humbly ask, where is the EU amid this mess? It gives every appearance of behaving like a sloth on Mogadon, wallowing in inertia as a creeping paralysis sets in. Okay, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the EU elite isn’t hunkered down in the Brussels fuhrer bunker, quaffing champagne and oysters, while the continent writhes in torment. Perhaps, even as I write, a massive EU contingency plan is set to unfold, bringing aid to the beleaguered nations of the Union. The trouble, however, is that the EU gives every IMPRESSION of dither, procrastination and delay, and appearances count for much. The plutocrats appear to be sitting with their fingers up their arses when the situation cries out for determined, decisive leadership, together with the implementation of practical measures designed to mitigate against the worst excesses of the situation. The EU needs to be seen to be walking the walk.

As an adjunct , I reckon that it’s a fair bet that this hidebound monstrosity will try to use the crisis as a pretext to push for an extension to the period of post-Brexit trade negotiations. Naturally, they’ll consider themselves entitled to continue plundering our fishing waters and our coffers for the duration of the extension.

Well I’d say that more and more people in the UK are coming to see the EU for the racket that it is. If any good is to come from this mess as we come out the other side, it’s that many more people elsewhere, particularly in Italy, may start to question just what the EU is for. To paraphrase from ‘Monty Python’s Life of Brian’, ‘What has the EU done for us?’ It’s a very good question. ‘That’s the EU for you’, I’d reply. When the chips are down, it’s as much use as a one-legged man in an arse kicking contest.

Oh, and while we’re on the subject, I’d bet that Il Papa could find the odd billion or so down the back of his pew to help out…

Nominated by Ron Knee

Mike Ashley is a cunt, I would be tempted to say he is the ultimate in cunts. He treats his staff like shit and encourages his supervisory team to adopt aggressive and repressive disciplinary tactics.

Now we find the stupid greedy oafish fat fucking cunt feels that his shitty knock off Fashion Not Sport shit shop is essential for the UK’s well being in a crisis.

Ashley, NO you fucking cunt.

It’s not essential, it’s cheap mass-manufactured shite you sell for too much money to ignorant cunts who don’t actually do sport, they just like to look like they do sport, the fat fucking oafs wandering … or waddling about in tacky Nike shit slippers, and voluminous baggy sweat pant set out to disguise their obese carcass underneath.

I hope you are fucking ashamed of yourself using a national crisis to leverage your shit shop into the essential category. Fortunately for your employees, the public, the transport systems, the police, NHS and all the vital services we need to stay healthy, the government has called your obtuse cunting bluff and told you to fuck the fuck off you utter cunt.

Nominated by GGRF

That despicable cunt Mike Fucking Ashley is a cunt among cunts, buys from cunts, supplies to cunts all the while acting like a total cunt, this fuck monkey has hiked his prices up now the the gyms are shut, talk about taking advantage of his customer base, they should boycott sports direct and shop elsewhere, just so the greedy, sweaty, slave driving cunts goes through the hoop, his staff would be better off working for someone else anyway as they all have to suffer this utter utter leather clad cunt cunt, treble cunt….did i mention cunts Mike Ashley you cunt, fuck you…

Nominated by Fuglyucker