Redundancy at the age of 61 is a cunt isn’t it? My fellow cunters some advice on options please. Do I

1 Become a dole bludger? Not that I’d get anything off the cunts
2 Retire? being at home all day with She Who Would Like To Be Obeyed No
3 Part time job? My favored option
4.Be a good boy, go in the job centre and do as the nice cunt behind the desk tells me? Or adopt a devil may care attitude, if I don’t like the answers tell them hate crime/coffin dodger phobic get the manager, kick him in the cunt when he/she /it arrives?
5 Tell them knees giving out, can’t really do the job I want, you want me to work retrain me Bitch/SJW Cunt. I want something more sedentary, not kneeling down installing smart meters for two hours at a stretch, four times a day.

After the last never to be forgotten appearance at the job centre in 2001 when I had what can only be described as a complete CUNT interviewing me, who was physically incapable of listening to what I was saying. Interview ended with me calling her a CUNT telling her to go fuck herself and walking out. With her shouting you won’t get any dole money, I responded with a reverse Churchill aka a V sign and a dignified retreat, went to an employment agency started the next day.

Nominated by CuntyMort

The SMART METER Advert

Normally, I like children, but that advert puts me into sadistic, mad-axeman mood and if I were any less restrained, would’ve had the coffee table hurled at light-speed through the TV screen.

“I want to live in a world where there are polar bears”………… FUCK OFF YOU LITTLE TWERP…. I want to live in a world where I can feed your smug-Islington-faced body to the fucking polar bears.

Then another two giant children, (naturally a gender-balanced boy and girl), lie down on the landscape, under the wind-turbines. The thoughtless cunts just wiped out all wildlife and crushed the woodlands under their huge bodies. Heres hoping that the windmills are actually ALIEN ROBOTS that then uproot themselves and chop the smarmy giant little cunts to pieces, leaving the landscape awash with giant blood and guts. “I want to live in a world where the air is clean”… IT IS CLEAN, cleaner than it’s been for 7 fucking centuries at least, especially in the cities… NO power stations, NO heavy industry, NO open coal fires, catalysed vehicles, you can even see the horizon.

Then there is another giant kid running next to the power lines. RUN INTO THEM for fucks sakes and give us a break from this propagandist SHITE.

But THE WORST is left for last, a kid in a rainbow top, with a mouth full of metal on her teeth, standing on a fucking balcony, in a CONCRETE JUNGLE, people stacked on top of one another, no grass, no gardens, no parking, no safe open spaces, looking in open-mouthed, starry-eyed wonder at the giant CGI butterflies, that I hope are carnivorous, drag her off the balcony, and lay eggs on her for their giant larvae.

And what is this load of emotive WANK promoting? SMART METERS, that for the propagandized millions, are touted as “saving the planet/polar-bears/butterflies” by saving energy and saving the future for our preshhhhhhhuuuuuussssss chiiiiiiiilllllllldrennnnn. yep, invoke “the Children” in order to get us stupid adults to have even more of our diminished freedoms and enjoyment stolen from us. Christ, if those brave men who laid down their lives 75yrs ago could see us now, they’d weep. On the other hand, with the speed they must be turning in their graves, we could generate enough electricity to power the planet.

Which brings me neatly to the main subject, the actual “Smart” meters. The £400 a pop “Smart” meters DON’T save you ANY electricity and CANNOT save you any. An energy usage display can be fitted in ANY house and costs a few quid. OK. theoretically, it stops “estimated readings”, but really, who apart from a few souls, really gives a fuck? Besides, the first generation meters go “dumb” if you switch suppliers. The REAL: issue is that these abominations contain a “Smart” remotely controlled SWITCH a large set of contacts the utility or government agency can turn off by remote control. The meters also contain a SIM so that they can communicate with the utility, government agency etc via the mobile network, Vodafone in this case. Even the “Smart” GAS METER does this.

Which brings me to the final point: Do you remember when the government, GreenPiss, the Friends of No-One etc told us that we should switch our TVs OFF due to the 1-watt idle current?? Well here it is ALL no-analogue (spinning disk) meters consume 2-watts just to operate, EVEN the new “Smart” GAS METERS that previously used NO electricity.

As most electricity meters are now digital, there are about twenty MILLION in use, consuming FORTY MEGAWATTS whereas if we had the older analogue meters, the wastage would be less than a tenth. With about FIVE MILLION “Smart” gas meters at 2-watts, that’s another TEN MEGAWATTS just to power the “Smart” digital meters. FIFTY MEGAWATTS in total and that’s on top of all of those MAINS POWERED DIGITAL DISPLAYS at about a watt each, PLUS the power for the digital circuitry on “Smart” thermostats, light switches etc that are active all of the time and increasing in number. We are probably in the region of 70-80 MEGAWATTS just on monitoring circuits and paranoia-inducing energy consumption displays, even those annoying “Ring” “smart” doorbells cansume a watt or so.

Despite all of this “Green” “Smart” cuntritude, we haven’t built a single fucking NEW POWER STATION IN DECADES, to power all of those new gadgets, rathole dwellings, HS2, data-networks, which if we have a blackout, we are FUCKED.

How many ill-educated, paranoid saps have bought into this “Smart” shit to “save the polar bears” when the reality is that the utilities are facing massive FINES next year for not hitting the “let’s put a remote switch in people’s homes” target, fines that twill be added to OUR FUCKING BILLS.

There is NO legal requirement to have one of these RF radiating abominations and if your utility says there is, GO ELSEWHERE.

AS for that fucking cunt of an advert, I stand by every word. “Smart” Meters for Dumb Cunts.

Nominated bySheikh Anvakh (Imam of all Cunts)

I don’t know if it’s just me, but there seems to be an unusually large number of loonies abroad at the moment. By way of making my point, let me introduce a few from the catalogue of grotesques who’ve crossed my path recently.

First up is a bloke I’ve seen on a few occasions. From a distance he seems reasonably respectable; it’s only when you get nearer that you realise that his hair’s matted, his suit’s thoroughly disreputable, and he appears to have pissed himself frequently. This poor sap wanders about, picking up a strange miscellany of objects, ranging from ring pulls and gobs of gum to fag packets and even a discarded johnny. He then examines these exhaustively, before putting them into a battered briefcase. As you do.

Next up is a batty old dame who got on the bus I was on; pencil thin and clearly mad as a box of frogs. ‘See ‘im at the stop’ she said to the driver, ‘tried to buy me coat he did. Told ‘im it weren’t for sale, but ‘e said if I didn’t, ‘e’d tek it, ‘e did. Told ‘im I’d get the bobbies, I did…’ etc etc. While this was going on, there was much dropping of heads and edging over in the seat from other passengers, until the driver told her to move down the bus so that he could proceed. She then plonked herself down next to an unfortunate in the priority seats for the disabled. ‘See ‘im at that stop, he tried to buy me coat he did…’.

We proceed onwards to a café in town, where I’d popped in for a coffee fix. In walked what can best be described as Mad Bag Lady, complete with riffy mac and Albert Einstein hairdo. She barged up and bawled to the guy behind the counter ‘oy! Stop playin’ with yerself! I want me tea. Stop playing with yerself! I want me tea!’. The manager appeared like a rabbit from a hat and ushered the miscreant unceremoniously to the door.

Last but not least is my personal favourite, an operatic fat lady lookalike complete with upward curling plaits, wearing a quilted jacket which appeared to have been slashed repeatedly with a razor blade. This apparition presented itself as I stood in Greggs, waiting to buy a sausage roll. The door was flung open and in she stormed, gesticulating wildly and yelling ‘shite! You’re all fuckin’ shite, that’s what you are! Shite!’. The woman serving said to her ‘get out you, or I’ll phone the police. I’ve told you!’. At which point the nutter beat a retreat, shouting ‘go fuck yerselves, ya fucking loada shites!’.

I must confess to feeling a bit of a cunt myself for this nomination, because even though you’ve got to sympathise with the poor bastards, you can’t help but chuckle as well. But I’m also left wondering precisely what is going on around here. Has somebody put something in the water? Is it a full moon, or is the warmer weather bringing them out? In closing, I can only say ‘watch out, there’s loonies about’.

Nominated by Ron Knee

The Running of the Bulls in Pamplona is a horrible cuntfest, isn’t it.

During the nine-day San Fermin fiesta, six bulls are run every morning in the city’s narrow streets and then killed in afternoon bullfights. Most tourists who go to the festival in Spain seem oblivious to the fact that these animals will be dead in just a few hours.

Each morning, a rocket is launched to terrify the six already anxious bulls so that they’ll charge onto city streets lined by drunken, screaming fuckwits who frequently hit them as they pass. The panicked animals slip and slide down the narrow streets and often smash into walls, sustaining broken bones and other injuries surrounded by the constant violent atmosphere.

The entire spectacle is really a death march.

Every evening, one by one, the bulls are forced into a bullring. The first cunts to lance them are the picadors; the second cunts are the banderilleros who also make the bull run in circles until, dizzy, disoriented, exhausted, and weak from blood loss; finally, the matador cunt enters. Not at all a coward, thus “courageous hero” stands over the bleeding, exhausted, dying bull and stabs him to death before demanding applause.

This execution of an innocent animal is called culture and entertainment

Nominated by Captain Magnanimous