I nominate Kay Burley.
I hate writing the cunts name. She’s paid millions for being a journalist, which she isn’t. She is an empty cunt, only repeating shit she hears in an earpiece. She will be remembered for one thing – what she said about Simon Weston:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoCopfQwXo4
I urge all of you to post it on her twitter feed to remind her of what she said. You will get blocked and a possible ban for telling the truth.
Nominated by Looby Loo
Shelby Judge….a student of the bullshit subject of “Feminist Issues”.
She and her husband (yep, she actually has one) took a tour of Stirling castle. Whilst in the gift shop, she found something that offended her immensely. A “Mr Man” book, in which Mr Clever committed the cardinal sin of ‘mansplaining’ the reason that the River Forth was so named to one of the “Little Misses”. Holy fucking shit on a burning stick. She was so outraged, she ran straight to The Sun newspaper to complain.
There was no mention in the article as to whether Stirling castle bent the knee to this whingeing cow, but I’m really hoping they told her to fuck off and grow up. How is it that a man can no longer innocently explain something to a woman? Even if we’re asked to explain something, we automatically become guilty of that heinous patriarchal crime of mansplaining. It’s about time we started standing up to these douchebags, because THEY are now the sexists. For decades, feminists were all out for equality. Well, now they have it. But that’s not enough for the twisted misandrists who call themselves feminists today. They want superiority. We cannot let them have it.
It must be so nice to live a life that your only real problem is the allegedly sexist content of a fucking children’s book.
Nominated by Quick Draw McGraw
Nice biscuits with hairline cracks in. And or the fucking retards whose only job is to get them from the factory to the customer in one piece, not two pieces barely held together with sugar until they are wet.
Nice biscuits are an absolute nightmare if they break mid-dunk. There is barely two or three seconds before all the structural integrity of the broken off bit is gone and the last inch of your brew is fully buggered.
I appreciate this is a bit of a first-world cunting, but a brews a brew and two failed dunks in a week suggest a careless cunt at some stage between manufacture and my careful lifting and placing in a shopping trolley.
Nominated by GGRF
a bah humbug nomination of Christmas presents.
My knee hurts, my back aches I have worked up a mild sweat on the carpet, what have I been doing, well not what you think.
Wrapping Christmas presents! various shapes and sizes, fucking round with sellotape and ridiculous wraps that are akin to sellotape and sellotape does not stick too.
well on the first round (yesterday) Mrs B suggested a little seasonal music as we went about the jolly chore ( She sits and I wrap) however I think its bad taste to stab people at Christmas with siccors so I declined.
I did however stick to last years promise which is quite simple, If it is not square or rectangular you can wrap it! so as you can imagine there was a little tension there (You haven’t eaten you’re grumpy ect).
Well as far as I know the deed is done, Next months bin fillers are nicely wrapped.
Fuck that till next year.
Nominated by Lord benny
Most of the unskilled Euro and third world enrichment influx around my way seem to converse at a speech volume that resembles your average Tourettes sufferer walking around Sainsbury’s.
It seems that the education systems that mould these people never saw fit in their 10 years of educating them to teach some basic standards of behaviour, namely manners and vocal control. I learnt not to shout as soon as I could talk. Many non-UK nationals have still not learnt this as adults!
So, rather than talking at a polite and civilised volume, these cultural enrichers seem to converse by shouting, even when feet apart from the person they’re talking to.
I have a foreign crew near me and they literally shout when they’re talking to such a degree that it sounds like a fight or heated auction bid up over some camels every time they open their mouths. It’s like living next to the crazy frog with a megaphone strapped to it’s mouth with all the: ‘Da ding da da ding ding, da ding ding, da, da diiing ding’ etc..
Yet I shouldn’t think they even know the sound of my voice as I speak at UK DB levels and can’t be heard past five feet away. Cunts!
I could invest in earplugs, but I’d rather the Gov invested in controlling unskilled immigration to the UK. How many more doctors and surgeons do we need manning car washes and selling cars? Thirteen more arrived on a dinghy yesterday. Thank Christ for that though, as my car’s filthy and the doctors surgery is always fully booked.
Nominated by Cuntry Cunt