The There’s an old saying which goes ‘never speak ill of the dead’. Normally I’d abide by this, but there’s an exception to every rule. In my case, that exception is restaurant critic Michael ‘Winner’s Dinners’ Winner, an overbearing prick into whose soup I’m sure many a chef will have wanked. Winner epitomises that breed apart which I characterise as ‘the insufferably smug’.
Before getting down to a few cases, let me define what I mean by this phrase. Well as a characteristic, smugness displays a high degree of self-satisfaction and a sense of superiority over others, At its worst, it carries with it the certainty in the correctness of one’s own views, and a condescending attitude to those who disagree. It manifests itself in that Will Self style complacent body language and self-congratulatory inflection in the voice, and that little George Clooney insincere smirk. The insufferably smug can most readily be found in that self-regarding Metrobubble world of politics, meeja and celebrity, where they’re thicker than fleas on a dog.
So here are a few examples of smug cuntitude to illustrate my point, and for you to get your teeth into. Take champagne socialist Islington millionairess Emily ‘Peppa Pig’ Thornberry, living the high life while pontificating about her ‘working class roots’, then posting a disparaging photo of white van man’s house bedecked in the disgusting flag of St. George. Good idea Peppa; hold your smug nose in the air and sneer at the very people you purport to represent. Funny how it came back to bite your fat arse in 2019. Ten out of ten on the smugometer.
Then there’s the contemptuous attitude of luvvies such as Slaphead Stewart and Steve Coucunt, informing Brexit voters that they ‘didn’t know what they voted for’, or that they’re ‘ignorant and ill informed’. Good job for us then that we have these two world renowned experts on international affairs to demonstrate the error of our ways. Or take everybody’s favourite SJW Owen Jones. Yes, somebody PLEASE take Owen Jones. Little Owen is a past master in the art of ‘doing’ smug. It oozes out of him as he disses anyone who has the temerity to disagree with him as ‘fascist, racist, xenophobic’. I’d go so far as to say that in his case, smugness is terminal.
Have a little think about that aristocrat of smugness, that pompous fart Meryl Streep. Remember her at the Golden Globes, disrespecting ordinary folk because they preferred to watch football and martial arts rather than improving themselves by spending their money on the ‘worthy’, virtue signalling product of Hollywoke? That’s right; another cunt who thinks that her celebrity entitles her to pontificate to the rest of us, and whose vanity leads her to think that we actually give a flying fuck.
Let’s face it, this pernicious trait of insufferable smugness has grown like a cancer on the faces of those who make up what has come to be termed ‘the cultural elite’. It’s anchored in the belief that the hoi polloi in Britain and elsewhere just don’t know what’s good for them. Farage? He’s a demagogue. Trump supporters? Idiots, ‘a basket of deplorables’.
I’d love to set up a stall where we could line every one of these cunts up; Jon Snow-Flake, Bercow, Linekunt, Clinton, Izzard, Dame Elton, the Grants (Hugh and Russell), Chakrabarti, Thompson, Hislop et al, so that we can hurl coconuts at them while they regard us with that air of intellectual superiority. Actually no; make that pigshit. Let’s return the crap they spout at us in kind. The insufferably smug cunts.
PS; Happy New Year to Alex Salmond. Oh, what a wonderful deflation of smugness!
Nominated by Ron Knee
A maiden cunting for this limp-dicked BBC prodigy.
Halfwit Harry Hewitt.
I mean, just where do you start?
The half blood prince and his attention seeking, money grubbing missus have decided to ‘step back’ from their duties to the Royal family to pursue a more ‘progressive’ role on their own. This will apparently involve splitting their time between the UK and North America. Fat Reg must be cacking his calvins at the amount of trees he’s gonna need to buy to offset the carbon to appease little thunderthighs.
The Ginger tosser also reckons that he wants to generate his own income but is still quite happy to suck on the public teat in the meantime AND continue living (part time of course) in the ‘cottage’ that the public purse has recently spent two and a half million quid on renovating. Well, unlucky son, Gerry Cottle’s not recruiting at the moment, he has all the clowns he needs.
The fuckers should be stripped of all titles, income, properties and privileges and told to fuck right off. When they finally split up at least she could make a few quid by blowing off his step uncle and he could fuck off back to his dad.
CUNTS.
Nominated by Kunte Kunty