I’d like to nominate the guardian for a cunting. Not just because they’re the guardian, although that deserves a cunting by itself, but also because they’re moral cowards.
“comment is free”, they boast. Liberal guardians of free speech. Yeah right, my arse. I’ve posted several comments recently, making sure they abide by the site’s rules. I don’t make personal attacks on individual journalists nor on individual commentators, no matter how insufferable the average guardian reader is. And yet I find most of my posts deleted simply because I have the gall to disagree with their bubble of opinion.
I only read the site because I think it’s important to get as rounded a view of current affairs as possible. Yet it seems that to the guardian, if you dare to disagree with their opinion, you’re automatically a nazi and therefore not worthy of being allowed to comment.
Far from being Liberal, the guardian seems intent on operating a rigid ideology that cannot be broken. As such, they stifle free speech and the free exchange of ideas, and are therefore cunts of the highest order.
Nominated by Le Cunt Noir
I only have fond memories being a child in the seventies. It was fucking ace. We never stayed indoors and weekends and school holidays were spent walking in the countryside in small gangs, not the modern day gangs of hooded, surly, weed smoking idiots, armed with knives and looking for trouble… no, our gang usually consisted of between three and six lads armed with jam butties and an “Alpine” bottle filled with water.
We would wander far and wide, playing “Army”, enjoying the countryside and the weather, remember ’76, would it ever end? Happy times.
It must have been around this time that on one of these expeditions I found my very first porn mag. What a moment. I can still remember it like it were yesterday.
We were walking over a small rise, heading towards a hedgerow running along a long lane when I spied a patch of white in the vibrant green hawthorn….as I approached I shuddered with trepidation, could it be? Dare I believe….. we’d heard stories told by others of how they had found bongo mags in bushes, we wanted it to be true – but was it? Was the elusive grumble mag, hidden deep in shrubbery, placed there by some pornographic pixie for the benefit of others, a myth… or reality? I was about to find out.
As I neared it became clear it was a magazine… one of my mates reached in and seized it, we gathered round….the front cover was missing….the contents page…..YES…. Mayfair! The excitement almost was to much for a six year old to bear.. we opened the pages and looked with wonder at the forms on display. Some pages were harder to open than others, we couldn’t understand why.
We took it, deep into the woods, and read it from front to back… in awe. I swear I can even remember a story… it was called “Max and Yvette”… it told of their copulation illustrated with soft porn photography.
After we finished I felt like I was now a man. School would never be the same again. We hid it again and made a pact to leave it there. I recall visiting it more until the sad day came that it was no longer there. Was it one of the gang? or had it just fulfilled its purpose and moved on?
My point is this. The above reminiscing was real and was a moment in life to treasure. Children today will never have the feeling that I had finding my first porn mag in a bush and it’s a shame. The reason is modern day porn and the accessibility which the internet has given to anyone with a mobile phone. One click and anyone can access the most extreme porn imaginable and it’s a shame.
Porn mags are no longer deposited in bushes, the pornographic pixie has long gone. Innocence is dead. Max and Yvette are in a care home in the North.
Modern Porn Is a Cunt.
Nominated by HenryV