The 1980s…

I mean for fuck’s sake, I thought the 70s were bad, but having just watched some old pop videos – including old Phil Collins of all people – and the ghastly taste in fashion and hair sense, one wonders what the fuck were people thinking?

I was born in the early 60s, and my yoof was dominated by 70s fashion of platforms, flares, kipper ties and other fucking disasters. However, come the 80s and OMG, rather than advancing forward to a better decade of fashion sense, we end up with ghastly perms, shoulder pads the size of aircraft carriers, synthesizers, samplers, shite New Romantic music, brick mobile phones, yuppies, Filofax, CND, Michael fucking Foot, unemployment and video recorders that didn’t have remote controls to name but a few.

Personally, I adored the 90s, but the less said about the 20s the better. However, the 1980s was a total wankpit of shite, other than for Jo Guest and Linda Lusardi getting their tits on Page 3.

Nominated by Technocunt

Lottery winners who say they’ll carry on working:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-sussex-50559136

Such as these shitcunts who won the miserly sum of £105m on the Euro Millions this week.

So, its 6am, your alarm goes off for work, it’s fucking freezing, you are warm and snuggly as fuck in your bed. Are you telling me you are going to get out of bed and graft for your £100 wages that day when you have £105m dancing at you from your bank account, sneering at you, “well fucking spend me then, you cunt. I’m useless when you’re dead!”?

No, like fuck you are. So cut the sanctimonious shit.

If however you do continue working when you have that dosh in the bank, what is the fucking point in even winning?

People who claim such horse shit need shooting, limb by limb, until all their blood drains into a tankard for my dog to drink.

“Ooh, I’ve won GAZILLIONS, but I’ll carry on working!”

Cunt off, eh.

Nominated by GeneralZod

Psychology lecturer and psychotherapist, Dr Sonja Falck….

Just to underline how snowflakery-to-fuckery this country is heading for, some touchy-feely twat called Sonja Falck is making a big name for herself by claiming that the words “Nerd” and “Smarty Pants” are offensive, divisive and humiliating, and may cause life-long trauma!

It seems if you make any sort of derogatory remark about someone, it’s classed as a hate crime, because it is offensive and may cause distress, hurt, etc, etc.

Of course its okay to call Brexit/Tory supporters dumb, ignorant, stupid fuckwits, because they don’t count as “normal” people.

I bet Dr Falck would probably feel mortally offended if she was called ‘Ms’ or ‘Mrs’, rather than ‘Doctor’, Or better still, being called a useless, twattish, good-for-nothing cunt with nothing better to do!’

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2019/12/17/nerd-geek-insults-should-classed-hate-crimes-academic-claims/

Nominated by Technocunt

A top of the range, high-end cunting for “house names”.

I’m a locksmith, and obviously get called out to attend homes that need gaining entry to, or the door won’t lock etc. Usually, after being given the address (house number and street/road) I arrive at the address as promptly as I can. That is, until I receive a call from some cunt saying “ it’s Shangri-La” on London road. London road for example is probably numbered into high hundreds.

My response is, “what number are you? Or next to?”
Customer: “oh, I don’t know, it’s just Shangri-La”.
Me: “So you expect me to drive the entire length of your road, looking both left and right, until I find you?”
Customer: “Oh, it’s a blue door”.

What the fuck are these people thinking? Absolute cunts.

Nominated by Cuntington Smythe

I am very much a social drinker these days, quite happy drinking the odd pint of San Miguel down the local boozer, or if I’m being a tight-fisted old cunt, drinking from home.

However, Christmas is approaching, and am already ordering a shitload of groceries from Asda online, including their special offers of 3 x 10 cans of Stella for £21.

Compared to my irresponsible youth of some forty years ago, when I used to buy a 24-pack of Breaker, or Skol, or Colt 45, for £10 and end up getting pissed out of my face three hours later, I would like to think I am a more experienced, sober drinker these days, yet come Christmas and all that festive spirit bollocks, I cannot help myself but to crack open the cans and enjoy a good old fashioned piss up!

But the thing about beer is how it suddenly fucks up your sensibilities, and all of a sudden you think the likes of Jess Phillips and/or Jo Swinson are remotely sexy!

Moreover, the more you drink, the more bollocks comes out of your mouth to the point where you’re opening yourself up to all sorts of allegations, especially when you confess to sniffing the bicycle seat of your female French tutor during your days at comprehensive school!

Beer has a lot to answer for, especially with its ability of fucking up one’s mind and turning horrible bloaters into sex objects (although to be fair I still haven’t drunk enough to find Diane Abbott remotely fetching!)

You will no doubt be surprised to know I am writing this bollocks after consuming five pints of San Miguel (largely in celebration of winning a nice little contract supporting the local library with their IT kit!) Therefore, I will probably regret this nomination come the morning. I just hope I haven’t mentioned anything regarding sex sessions with a sweaty Diane Abbott in a g-string!

Cheers!

Nominated by Technocunt