Ugly South Coast Flashers

Have occasion to motor doine to the South Coast to attend to matters financial and try to work in a spot orf R&R whilst at it. Brighton, Seaford, Cuckmere Haven, Birling Gap, Eastbourne, Fairlight Cove doine to Hastings. Me old stamping groinde, in the ‘30s a place orf stunning scenery and fine open roads. A time orf the Body Beautiful, Health and Efficiency and many fine fillies en masse in tight shorts exercising oit doors for Blighty. Fairlight Cove a Naturists paradise, many fine fillies indeed. Oh yes.

Alas the sirens orf War heralded in darker times, innocence lost, concrete coastal defences, new roads and a new breed orf perverts among the forces orf the world assembling for a crack at Hitler. Came the peace Coastal Sussex continued to attract the nonces and perverts in droves but the old sensibilities, the tacit agreements to keep ones predilections within doors, were lost forever. Thus to modern times, accursed times, where a pervert seemingly lurks behind every bush or ornamental bench tossing orf.

Only the other week Yours Truly was resting his weary old arse on a bench overlooking The Channel one fine red streaked evening watching the distant propellers (alas no brave roar orf Merlin engines) orf the windfarm chopping up the flights orf unwary migrating birds. Just wish me old Purdeys (finest English shot gun ever made) had the range that far. A kind orf Idyll – then I’ll be buggered but this ugly little toad orf a filly lurches oit orf the lavender twilight, whips up her hoodie, pulls doine her joggers and treats YT to an eyefull orf sagging tit, Dawn French gut and decrepit minge. Giggles then lurches up the path, turns, bends over and presents Yours Truly with the promise orf some vast pimply pink cheeked heaven. Your Reporter made his excuses and left. Thank Christ for me hip flask.

Another for instance (one orf many). T’was doine Cuckmere with me great nieces, sweet little fillies that I have under me tutorledge when bugger me some ancient old pervert stands at the side orf the path, pulls a Les Dawson face and whips oit his fossilised old piss tube and starts spraying a copious spot orf Golden Rain at ‘em. What would you do in the circumstances? No mobile signal, miles from anywhere, no prospect orf Old Bill? Precisely. Swift heft to the manky cunt’s balls with me old boot got him sorted oit. Pissed up me leg though the bastard.

As to Fairlight Cove was doine there early to observe the wildlife, had a few nips orf me single malt to get me started and dozed orf lulled by the hum orf the honey bees and the sea air. Woke hours later with the sun high to find meself no longer alone but surrounded by towels laid doine at discreet intervals each occupied by a naked fat old cunt wearing a bobble hat and plarstic flip flops with a finger up his arse. Every so orften one cunt or other would pop up and start parading his rancid old bits aroinde. Came the inevitable and Yours Truly was visited. A bag orf old flabby skin and flaking testicles loomed over YT.
“You new around here? No need to be shy. Lovely warm day so just drop your trousers to begin with. We all had to start somewhere. I’ll show you the ropes.”
“Fuck Orf!”
Happily he did; and not over me.

Nominated by Sir Limply Stoke

I would like to cunt HS rail 2. Has there ever been a more monumental waste of money? Before even a yard of rail has been laid the estimated cost has gone up four times. Hundreds of houses have been compulsorily purchased as have businesses. Whole cemeteries will have to be dug up, the distress and misery this fucking white elephant is going to cause is untold and for what? To cut 20 minutes off the journey time to Birmingham and 40 minutes to Manchester. Spend all that money on stopping the daily misery endured by ripped off commuters you useless cunts. Not too late to end the fiasco.

Nominated by Richard1

I would like to cunt The Week magazine, for their briefing in last week’s (2nd Feb) issue about George Soros (which I only got around to reading yesterday on the 10th due to a combination of work, lack of sleep and attempting to catch up on it and horrendous indigestion). The entire gist of it is basically ‘George Soros is a hero and if you disagree then you’re a fringe alt-right nutcase’, with phrases including “there can be no doubt that many attacks on Soros are overtly anti-Semitic” and “he is a hate figure for Vladimir Putin and the autocratic nationalists inspired by his example.” Oh, so anyone who disagrees with him is an authoritarian hardline nutjob then? Is that what you’re saying you cunts? Bear in mind this isn’t just a collection of the latest current events stuff from around the world like most of the magazine – this is the opinion of the magazine itself, being expressed in what is effectively its editorial. Its good for me to read this shit in the same way RTC says its good for him to listen to James O’Shithead, and truth be told there are a few good pieces in there each week, but this kind of shit just epitomises the awful open borders view which the magazine themselves hold. Not the first time they’ve boiled my piss but this example seems especially egregious.

Nominated by OpinionatedCunt

The Deputy Prime Minister

Ever since Clem Atlee introduced the office in the ’50s this country has had a Deputy PM. Someone around to shoulder the burden. Someone to step in in case the PM should croak. Thus the wheels orf our democracy continue to smoothly whizz around should the wheels come orf the main engine. A good idea then.

So who was the last Dep PM? Nick Clegg. Oh dear.
Who is the present Dep PM? No idea.

That me hearties is because there ain’t one. Our paranoid PM has dispensed with the office so she cannot be easily replaced by one in some midnight coup. Explains why the old mare goes forever flailing aroinde the world trying to take care orf business like some old dobbin orn ice. She is personally in charge orf everything from dealing with knife crime to selling poor old Blighty oit on Brexit. Problem is she cannot run one whelk stall successfully let alone a whole world full orf ’em.

Thus the function orf Government grinds to a halt every time May is away and the bunch orf no-hopers left behind make fuck-up after fuck-up confirming her as indispensable and invulnerable. What a way to run a whelk stall.

Nominated by Sir Limply Stoke

Marie-Claire Springham.
Who? I hear you ask.
The deluded London student that has wasted her time at university by using it to develop a machine that, when strapped to a man’s chest will cause him to produce milk in order to breastfeed the baby.
This is because at the moment some men (remarkably) are unable to share the job of breastfeeding.
I seem to remember feeding my children when they were babies, but I used what Marie-Claire must consider to be the disgusting male invention that is the ‘bottle’. I didn’t feel the urge to grow a pair of tits in order to help.
Even more bizarre is that ITV managed to find people of both sexes who agreed that this was a good idea.
(I only say both sexes, because I have forgotten how many there are supposed to be these days).
I wonder if the women who think that it’s a good idea would be as happy to strap a machine to their fannies which caused a cock to grow.
Go back to uni Marie, and find a cure for something that is a fucking problem instead of trying to create new ones.
Cunt.

Nominated by The Cunt of Monte Cristo