“Not another stibby stabby moose limb” you might be saying? Well not exactly. You might remember him from the name Cat Stevens, a pop singer and song writer from the 60’s and 70’s and a damn fine one at that – until he converted to Islam in 1977, adopting the name Yusuf Islam, to add to all the thousands of Yusuf Islams in the moose limb world.

Don’t you find these converts to religion the worst of the lot? The fervour and the energy they throw into their new cause is impressive isn’t it? Fortunately, there are not too many celeb converts I can think of – maybe Lauren Booth, Cherie Blair’s sister. What I’ve noted, however, is that Yusuf and his pals have all come over very quiet since their ‘peaceful’ religion turned to shit. An interesting fairy tale led to Yusuf’s conversion. In 1976 Stevens nearly drowned off the coast of Malibu, California, United States, and it’s reported he shouted: “Oh, God! If you save me I will work for you.” He related that right afterward, a wave appeared and carried him back to shore.

After his conversion, he was prevented from continuing his musical career. So, basically, a fine musician had sold his musical soul in exchange for religion. When will some people realise that there is no finer religion than music? He did attempt to revive his career years later but replacing great hits like ‘Matthew and Son’, ‘Moonshadow’ and ‘Father and Son’ with quasi-religious stuff like ‘Peacetrain’. His career was never the same again.

For God’s sake Yusuf, look at those lyrics again and have a rethink . . . . . . . .

‘Cause I’m on the edge of darkness
There ride the Peace Train
Oh, Peace Train take this country
Come take me home again
Now I’ve been smiling lately,
Thinkin’ about the good things to come
And I believe it could be,
Something good has begun

Yusuf, would you ever renounce this religion? No, no chance. This type of brainwashing is irreversible and I do appreciate it could possibly place your life in danger.

Cat Stevens, I loved you. Yusuf Islam, you’re a cunt. Now, I know we have a lot of dog lovers on IsAC, so I’d like to end with one of Cat’s hits I’m sure you’ll remember . .
“I Love My Dog.

Nominated by Bertie Blunt Tory Cunt

Gina Miller deserves a new cunting because of everything in this article:

https://blogs.spectator.co.uk/2020/02/gina-miller-should-leave-the-bank-of-englands-new-boss-alone/

If you can’t access it, I’ll give you a smidgen, with honours given to Matthew Lynn of the Speccie.

‘Miller has written to the Chancellor Rishi Sunak demanding Bailey is summoned before the Commons Treasury select committee. There are also calls for a full-scale investigation to be launched into his conduct. Probably very soon we will see petitions, crowdfunded legal action and eventually a hearing before the Supreme Court to have him removed from office, before he has even got his feet under the desk.

But in fact, it is not hard to work out what is going on here. Miller has launched a Remainer guerrilla war. Sure, it is possible to make criticisms of Bailey’s tenure at the Financial Conduct Authority. There were some collapses, especially of London Capital & Finance and the peer-to-peer firm, Lendy, both of which cost investors money. But Miller’s ‘report’ is flimsy with little substance in it. There is always the occasional financial firm that goes bust, of course. And it’s a shame when investors lose money. Yet is this really the reason Miller is going after Bailey?

Perhaps instead, it has more to do with Bailey beginning to already swing the Bank behind Brexit. He has certainly argued forcefully that the City will be better off once Britain has left the EU, allowing London to free itself from the EU’s regulatory system.

Gina Miller. A monstrous cunt.

Nominated by Dark key cunt

It is with regret that the admin team announces the first person in the UK has succumbed to Covid 19, The patient had many underlying health issues but alas is no longer with us, so a few facts.

Covid 19 is not as bad as it seems, to catch it well it is a virus, Think of a jelly bean, that is it a little packet of problems hiding in a fatty case, it does well in the cold as it will not dehydrate and die, again the old adage coughs and sneezes spreads diseases applies.

If you are of good health then you have no need to worry, we are not talking about a plague, It is a relative of the flu family, you will survive it is no big issue.

The government is recommending a 1 meter exclusion rule, this is useful to protect yourself, those most at risk will probably carry some form of mobility aid, so we the admin team suggest that poking sniffy oiks with a walking stick to be an adequate form of viral defense.

However in respect to the age Diaspora and opinion’s of those of the site It is unlikely that any of you will engage in conversation with a carrier.

meanwhile, why the fuck is there no paracetamol and toilet roll in asda!

A pubic announcement on behalf of Admin

Claire Montello is indeed, a cunt.

“Who the fuck?”, I hear you ask. Behold! The woman who faced death… DEATH! At the hands of……her bed. Really.

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/mum-trapped-under-bed-13-21515071.amp

Who would have thought that someone sober could have not only replicated the stupidity of Brian Harvey (depressingly, there’s quite a few: google “run over by his own car”) but have done so with a piece of furniture. So whilst Brexit, Muslim extremism, retarded politicians and fluid people of all descriptions compete to throw fear and doubt into the lives of simple folk, spare a thought for the terror that must disrupt the most simple of tasks.

To think that we’ve become so physically weak, fucking FAT and stupid that we could be killed by a bed. Or a can opener. Or a toothbrush. Or a breath of fresh air.

The mind truly boggles.

To quote an esteemed fellow cunter: This country is fucked.

Nominated by Cuntflap

There is one near where I live. The ‘Gate’ itself is not really a gate, but a barrier. Not quite ‘Checkpoint Charlie’, but it is substantial. I think the residents must have a fob key. It’s not really a GC come to think… just an estate with a barrier. The homes are better quality than those around it, but all the same, uniform.

One drunken night I found myself in it. Tumbleweed should have been blowing through as it felt so desolate. And come to think of it, during the day (if I am passing) you never see a kid, or an elderly person walking about in there. In fact, I have never seen anyone moving around in there. There must be people, because I can see the lights on in the houses of an evening and the cars outside. It’s a mystery place to me really.

I contrast it in my mind with the estate further up the road: winding open streets, many large grass verges, the houses built at angles to each other, a few even facing the opposite direction to the rest, different sized gardens, lots of variety from small and large bungalows to detached and semi-detached family homes. It seems to have grown up of itself. Great variety as I say. I won’t over-romanticize it by saying I see chirpy urchins on the street corners, all smiles, but you do see people walking about, visiting each other, neighbours chatting. It does have more of a ‘community’ feel about it than the other place.

Yes, that’s what I object to in the term Gated “Communities”… when there’s no community at all.

Nominated by Miles Plastic