The i news paper.

‘Claims Brexit will boost tourism turns out to be a myth’ apparently. The i among other news outlets are claiming visitors to Britain are spending less due to Brexit. I would like to start by pointing out that surely, if we were to do this scientifically, the only conclusion we could glean from visitor spending being lower is that, NOT HAVING BREXIT YET, is the reason tourists are spending less. How the fuck can you claim something has had a negative effect before it’s even happened?!

I’m sick to fucking death of reading journalists (bullshit merchants) interpretations of stats and figures. When will they get it through their simple fucking brains that the ‘uncertainty of brexit’ and ‘brexit’ are two completely different things. This government have caused the uncertainty of brexit and this is what’s causing so many economic problems. British Steel has gone belly up because of the uncertainty of brexit not because of brexit, which as we alluded to before, hasn’t happened yet, so cannot be the cause of anything.

It should be a crime to publish these spurious statistics along with a prognosis that’s completely wrong. After all, they were quick to try and brand leave organisations as breaking the law for lying during the referendum and yet now they’re reciprocating with even more outrageous speculation. Hypocritical cunts!

Nominated by elboobio

A bullfight of a cunting for Spanish tourist parties, por favor señor.

Niche cunting this may indeed appear on the surface, but for anyone who has found themselves firmly amongst heaving thoroughfare in stations, on mean streets or any other cramped, busy part of London or other UK tourist hotspots, you will know for certain that Summer brings with it the curse of the dreaded holidaying swarm. However, as infuriating as tourists are in general – asking directions, photographing innocuous turds and thinking everyone talks like Jacob Rees-Mogg – the variety of tourist known affectionately as <i>Los Pendejos</i>, loosely translated as ‘fucking Spanish scumcunt cretin’ would try the patience of fucking Job on strong sedatives.

Travelling in huge groups packing out tube carriages 30 cunts to a man, these paella-fulled dizzy cunts, all wearing the same red t-shirt/check shorts/hi-tops ensemble – partying like it’s 1992 – talk at bone-shaking fucking volume; piss-boiling enough to be sure on stoic underground trips, but exacerbated by the fact that the Spanish spoken language is the aural equivalent of a jackhammer relentlessly pummelling your fucking skull. With nary a pause for breath or even a stolen moment of contemplation, these chattering cunts almost appear to be on a mission to drive the indigenous worker trapped with them into insanity; feverishly desperate to tear off his own eyelids, roll them up and use them as fucking earplugs.

Do Madrid’s finest cunts not have a modicum of decorum on their own public transport? If I travelled to their dustbowl cunt of a country and barked like a builder from Bermondsey at the top of my fucking voice whilst eating Sevilla oranges like a mental inpatient, would that be totally fucking bueno? And let’s not even talk about the cunts stopping dead in front of you on pavements, with what can only be assumed as a pathological fear of walking single bastard file. I’ve seen similar gangs of Germans, Japanese and Scandinavian on my sojourns into the capital, but they all appear to be fairly savvy when it comes to manners and not making spectacular cunts of themselves in front of the locals.

So gringo, I give you the true El Cunto of the high season, the Spanish fucking tourist parties. Fucking putas.

Nominated by The Empire Cunts Back

Fans who aren’t getting behind the England Lionesses are Cunts,aren’t they ?

The England Ladies football team are currently bringing back some pride to English footy. I’ve just watched them put the Argies to the sword through a mixture of skill and following a game-plan devised by the Master- Tactition himself,Big Phil (Scolari) Neville. Such a pleasure to see a game free from the histrionics so common in the men’s game.

I can’t understand why we aren’t getting more coverage of our national game being played at the highest level. It’s just what this Country needs to bring us all together in these troubled times. Sadly. I expect that a lot of so called “footy-fans” will wait until The Lionesses get to the final before decking out their council-houses and white Transit vans with flags….for shame.

I’m also afraid that I can detect a distinct waft of misogyny when I hear some of the comments made about this World Cup. It’s a pity that these football “fans” have proven the stereotype of the cave-man,knuckle-dragging yob to be accurate. I,for one,will be proudly wearing my ” Horton” footy-shirt to the pub tomorrow. I expect there’ll be plenty more enlightened fans there with whom I discuss the Big Game. I’m already preparing my patter…..” I’d play a false number 9 and let the sweeper take up the slack” or ” that number five has no left foot”… I really can’t wait to be part of the footy-crowd.
#Itscominghome.

Fuck Off.

Nominated by Dick Fiddler

Roadside Science

What the fuck is this I hear you ask? I’ve no fucking idea.

It’s a programme on 5live and although I’ve never listened I keep seeing the cunts photo on the webpage. Each time I see their puny cuntish faces I become even more angry that some cunt hasn’t yet pounded their weedy smug snowflake corpses into a fucking hole later to be dug up and wondered over by future generations as an example of de-evolved homosapiens become feeble by an upbringing exclusively involving watching cartoons, playing sonic and fiddling with their micro-genitals to CGI avatars. Cunts!

Nominated by MandroidZ

A red and yellow equals orange cunting please for this self-satisfied, too easily pleased with himself, greasy looking motherfucker.

Chuka used to be a right wing Labour MP who in the old days in 1997 would have been straight up Anthony Blair’s arsehole from the back benches, but alas Chukaspear didn’t come along early enough to crawl his way into a Blair cabinet, and to his horror he found that his leader was old Steptoe. He didn’t fancy being Harold to his Albert, so, after a leadership campaign of his own, aided by his dear friend Mangledbum, which lasted all of 48 hours, he minced into the back benches where, along with Simon Danzuk (remember him – whatever happened to him and his lovely beard?) they would snipe away like a pair of disgruntled old queens.

In February this year Chuka and Anna Soubry set up “The Independent Group” which begat “Change UK” which begat The Anna Soubry Quintet. Now our hero was alone and decided to sit as an Independent, but sadly Chuka alone didn’t get enough press attention, for his preening self-importance, but now he has announced he has joined the Liberal Democrats, and he and old uncle Vince have become the new Ant & Dec, slapping each other on the back and real bosom pals.

I wonder if Chukup would have been so quick to join the LDs if they hadn’t done so *well* in the recent EU elections?

Meanwhile Chukaduckie has now been in 3 political parties this year and has not submitted himself for re-election to his bemused electorate who, probably like Chuka himself, or his lovely wife (is she not fragrant?) doesn’t know which way he swings.

Umunna is the epitome of crawling, careerist, shit-eating grin, unprincipled motherfucker MPs, who changes his opinions more often than Jess Phillips changes her knickers.

Who knows, if Uncle Vince disappoints, the ever moving Chuka might next join the Tories and become Dominic Grieve’s toyboy. After all, as Lord Adonis would tell you – there is nowt so queer as folk.

Nominated by W. C. Boggs