Oh dear, cunters; unfortunately It’s That Man Again. Again.

Rancid Remainiacs are apparently considering a plan to orchestrate a no confidence vote against Boris Johnson in the House of Commons, designed to collapse his government and stymie a no deal Brexit. Cadaverous Cunt Grieve has called upon the Queen to dismiss the PM if he chose to ignore such a vote and allowed the country to leave the EU on a no deal basis.

Now this strikes me as, shall we say, a tad hypocritical on the part of Grievous. After all, why should Johnson not simply sit there? Refusal to accept an outcome that he doesn’t agree with is a principle that Duplicitous Dom seems quite happy to follow in his own case.

No doubt the Unctuous Undertaker will be able to dig out some dusty, archaic statute under which the Queen could act. But trying to drag HM into the Brexit saga would surely place us at the top of a slippery slope, which could end up plunging the country into the greatest constitutional crisis since 1909. Not that it seems to matter to Desperate Dom and his cronies.
Well on the subject of ‘no confidence’ votes, I call upon the good people of Beaconsfield to exercise one of their own at the nearest opportunity, and show this shithead the door. Dominic Grieve has been a haemorrhoid on the arse of British politics for far too long.

It’s time for a nice clean surgical cut.

Nominated by Ron Knee

This is a story about a teenager effectively told to hold it when she asked to go to the toilet. She said to the teacher she was on her period and the teacher effectively told her to put a sock in it, so the teenager storms out ‘grabbing a sani towel on the way’.

Her stupid mother says ‘Maisie felt humiliated and embarrassed and it is horrible what happened to her’, naturally her mother takes the story to the national press so the two attention seekers can have their photos in the tabloids and talk about their periods and feelings. It sounds reasonable to want to use the toilet when required, but this cunt Maisie-Rae has apparently been given three separate detentions for wanting to go to the bogs and now claims she has heavy periods – 3 times a month. I reckon she’s just full of shit.

The school says “The situation is not as has been interpreted, but I cannot go into details”. My theory is that this ‘girl’ is actually a boy and doesn’t even have periods and the pair of them are completely off their trolley. It’s the kind of shit a demented tranny boy would make up and the kind of name he’d give himself.

The school also says they have policies to deal with these things including timeout cards and ‘pink passes’. Mother-cunt moots pink wristbands – “I think it would be a good idea to get the girls wearing a little pink wristband and then it would show the teachers and others that the girl is on her period and that they may be a little emotional and not able to concentrate that week”. I shit you not it never fucking ends. What the fuck is the world coming to that this cunt with it’s three periods a month wants to wear a fucking wristband to excuse them from academic effort, due to the disability of being a female? So just sit and stare out of the window at the taxpayers expense. She should be put out on the street to earn a fucking living if permanently pmt-ing.

Nominated by MandroidZ

An emergency cunting on a planetary scale for this worthless piece of shit and her little eco warrior mates/ cunts please.
This is one of the bottom feeders who held up traffic in Bristol, stopping a guy from being able to say goodbye to his terminally ill father. When she is told by a reporter what they had done and listened to a recording of the guy phoning a radio station in a distressed state, she starts crying. I shit you not, but explains why these worthless bunch of wankers are disrupting major cities…all for the sake of their agenda.
Why aren’t the police tearing these bastards a new asshole? Or can’t they now intervene, due to PC bollocks? I always though this sort of shit was against the law anyway.
If it were I this cunt stopped from seeing my dying parent, I would now be researching where she lived and she would be having a conversation with the business end of a baseball bat, then she could cry me a river too. In the immortal words of Ving Rhames ” I’m going to get medieval on your ass”

Nominated by CuntyMort

Millennial speak is what I’m cunting, but we’ll throw millennials in the cunt ring alongside, seen as they created it.

These people are supposed to be our future leaders, our future scientists, our future teachers…….so if that’s the case humanity is fucked. I was born in the 80’s, so I’m not greatly older than these snowflake, retarded, lazy fuckabouts, but I pride myself on using correct grammar, spelling and real words (apart from fuckabouts). Some examples of millennial speak really do leave you scratching your head, especially when we already had suitable terms, phrases or words in the first place. Anyway, here goes.

Netflix and chill – for a long time I didn’t know what this meant, until my other half, who has Facebook, explained it means to put a TV programme on, that you’re not intending to watch, and then fool around.

Woke – I don’t know why I hate this one so much, but this one really gets me. It’s not about being literally awake. But to have some sort of epiphany. Like all of a sudden you realise some people are gay or Jewish. Maybe it’s because I like the word epiphany and they’ve replaced it with a less attractive word and taken ‘up’ off of the end to make a legible term.

Salty – means you’re angry.

Basic – term for someone who has middle of the road opinions, or sedate style. They use it as some kind of insult, funny how they dislike someone for being ‘basic’ but if you have right wing opinions they dislike you too.

Bae – stands for ‘before anyone else’. Awwww, makes you sound a right cunt when you say it though. I personally think they were too lazy to say babe, which I also hate, it was too long so they removed a letter.

“LB/FB” – like back / follow back, it’s to do with social media so I despise it.

Quiche – means someone is really attractive………no it’s a pastry based eggy flan, fucking idiots.

Lit – means a party is really good or some shit.

Adulting – something they will never do, term for doing grown up stuff. This doesn’t need to be a term, because it’s the default for nearly everyone. The term is instead for not being an adult, fucking ‘grow up’.

I’m losing the will to live so I’ll stop there, but believe me there’s a lot more. Homework is to go away and look up ‘goals AF’. I couldn’t even bring myself to explain that one.

I hope this proves that the future is for cunts and we’re all doomed.

Nominated by elboobio

Millennial’s. Now you would think they have properly been cunted, probably not enough and in the wrong place in my opinion.

Just to make things clear I had a shit childhood, a rather shitty career and honestly admit to myself that reproduction would be a mistake, I have walked out of two wars and some of the things I had to do disgust me ( now I am on the normal level)

Any way I have been step dad twice! Yep unlike some of you cunts I have 4 suregate children 2 nephews and 2 god sons (lets not go there)

Well Mrs B’s son (youngest) went AWOL after mrs B’s husband chose to fuck off (convenient for me) her well educated children went to uni, I have to say despite the lack of interest from their father they have done well…. except on communication.

One of their friends, another high flyer manged through the world of modern communication to release a delayed suicide note and film (yes its fucking grim)

Anyway as you can imagine Mrs B is more than worried about her children. Child 1 has done well ( If living with an eco vegan could be considered so). Child two decided to go on an information black out, they failed their first course, maybe even their second, so Mrs B and I decided to have a look, now take this into account I scaled a 3 story building with a fucked leg to look through a velux! I am almost 50! i should not be doing this shit!

So mrs B went down in force on her own ( trust me its for the best) and gets admission into the flat, checks his computer and finds suicide sites on it, as you can imagine this creates some issues, she passes out; the land lady calls me as the in case of emergency call me number. ( excuse me the dog has farted)

I end up thundering up the M3 with a game plan in place, I have already called the local plod asking about random stiffs of a certain age ethnicity and size, then get an ok call from Mrs B fucking twat has turned up alive! Hence me being turned round to prevent the eventual clash of personality’s

Fuck sake kids, when I did Granby I told my family I was a radio operator. When I was in the balkans I was a medic fuck sake.

Nominated by lord benny

Badly Fitting Bras
I find myself in an unusual situation, inasmuch as I’m making a cunting on behalf of a third party; to wit, the wife.
It goes back to this morning. I’m lying in bed, drinking my coffee. The wife’s just got out of the shower, and is back in the bedroom, muttering and fidgeting as she gets dressed.

Me; ‘what’s wrong, dear?’
Her; ‘this bloody bra’s what’s wrong. In fact, it’s every bloody bra. These days I can’t find one which fits without nipping and pinching’
Me; ‘well you know my absolute stipulation in this regard. Your underwear must be silky and extremely scanty and revealing, my sweet. Beyond that, I’m not sure what practical advice I can offer you’
Her; (fiddling with strap) ‘you’re about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. It’s all right for you taking the micky, you don’t have to wear this stuff’
Me; ‘I will if it would make you happy, my sweet. Anyway, I know just what you’re going through, after wearing that Chippendales’ posing pouch you got me that Christmas’
Her; (pouts) ‘posing pouch? What are you on about? It’s all just a big joke to you, isn’t it?’
Me; ‘on the contrary, my petal, sniffing your skimpies is one of the few things that gives meaning to my otherwise bleakly nihilistic existence, so I take your underwear well-being extremely seriously. By the way, you look amazing in it. For a woman of your age’
Her; (sticks tongue out) ‘you cheeky sod. But I suppose I don’t look too bad at that’ (sways in front of mirror, hands on hips)
Me; ‘you’re every man’s fantasy, my little butterfly; my ultimate milf’
Her; (girlish giggle) ‘you’re a lost cause!’
Me; (ostentatious leer) ‘but you lap it up. Tell you what, dear. Go to Ann Summers. My treat. In fact I’ll come with you and, er, assist in the changing room’
Her; ‘my mother was right about you. I should’ve taken you to the vet and had you seen to. But it’s not funny. I’m fed up with these M and S bras. They’re a pain. For two pins, I’d go on to that “Is A Cunt” and give them a right bollocking’
Me; ‘you’d better go or you’ll be late. I’ll do it for you and it’ll get it off your chest, no pun intended. You can read it when you come back from the hairdressers’

So here it is, a cunting for all ill fitting bras (Marks and Sparks and otherwise) on behalf of the wife, and indeed, on behalf of women everywhere who are beset with the same problem. Ladies, know that your menfolk give you 100% support, even if your bra doesn’t.

Nominated by Ron Knee