In fact I would go as far as to say that it is a massive pile of steaming horse shite of a cunt.

I live in the Lincolnshire country side and feel privileged in doing so. I have a dog and have fields footpaths and woods near by in which I can walk the little fucker. Being a responsible dog walker I pick his shit up and put it in a bin.

Horse owners ride their horses around the same fields paths and woods but never clean up after their horse as left a stone of shit on the floor. Why? small shovel or trowel shopping bag and take it home for your roses you cunt.

Apparently councils do not have the power to make riders clean up after their nags.

So there you have it dog owners can get fined horse owners can’t. What a pile of fucking bullshit.

get surrey

Nominated by Everyonesacunt.

 
What can we do to aliviate the pressure on GPs, who are having to see increasing numbers of patients ( I wonder why), but with GP numbers decreasing?

I know, says some bright spark, ( cunt that they are) let’s introduce a new role, the Care Navigator, who’ll be well worth the extra costs to the practice because?

Well, basically, they’ll be there to redirect you to A&E, the pharmacist, a nurse practitioner, or Boots medicine counter. In other word, the doctors receptionist on steroids.

Want to see a GP?
You’ll be able to see one in a zoo, soon, as they become the rarest of Homo Sapiens.

Mirror

Nominated by Jeezum Priest.

My ancestors turned a few duckets (gold coin) out of slavery. Am I sorry for it? Fuck no. Will I be joining the litany of woke crokes bemoaning and bewailing the barbaric trade? Fuck no. Am I cashing in my land and bank balance (generated by the heinous shenanigans of my ancestors) to offer compo for having dragged the indigenous darlings out of darkest Africa? Fuck no. Best thing that ever happened to them.

This great and glorious Kingdom stands accused of ripping children from their mothers arms and subjecting them to short and squalid lives of toil and abject poverty. Gimme Compo White Oppressor. Oh no. Lucky them.

Mother Africa (she of disease, hunger and pestilence) was the real enslaver, their Fathers and Chiefs the Slave Takers who rounded them up and sold them on to visiting Arab Slavers who in turn sold then on to the French and Belgians, the Germans, the Dutch, the Portuguese, the Spanish and later the British and the Americans. Without that turn of good fortune they would have had little or no education and no opportunity to make their fortune in drugs and prostitution on the streets of our fair cities.

Where would the scammers of Nigeria be now without the access to our technology and bank accounts and dating sites.
Far from offering mewling pleas of forgiveness (fuck you Justin Welby) we are the ones who should be compensated by them for all we have given them over the generations.

American conservative

Nominated by Sir Limply Stoke

 
National anthems, and one in particular.

I am watching the build up to the rugby world cup.

The anthems can be stirring, Wales, France, South Africa, Ireland, Scotland and so on.

They can be so so as well. The Argentine one doesnt start until half time.

But the most depressing dirge of all is the English one. ‘God save our homeopathic half wit.
It is dull, uninspiring, and excludes patriotic Englishmen who are republicans.

What’s wrong with Jerusalem, Land of Hope and Glory instead of this dull depressing monotone?

Anyway:-

Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi,
Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri;
Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mâd,
Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed.

Or

Allons enfants de la patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé !
Contre nous de la tyrannie
L’étendard sanglant est levé !

Nominated by Cuntstable Cuntbubble.

 
Spain won the wimminz ‘World Cup’ recently and one of the players was seen in a quick kiss of the lips with the male boss of the Spanish FA, when collecting her medal.

Explanations vary as to whether it was instigated by the man or the player herself. The Spanish FA point to evidence (agree that it is debatable etc) that the rather butch lass lifted the man off his feet to draw him near.

But I digress. While it’s not normal to plonk a kiss on in the lips of a lady you’re not shagging, in some cultures it’s not seen as being quite as bad. In some cultures you see non gay blokes doing it. I’ve seen the old Yugoslavia team kissing each other on the lips after a goal. Maybe they were all gays, but I doubt it.

And remember, this kiss was in a moment of celebration and jubilation, even if I do think the Wiminz World Cup is Mickey mouse bullshit.

In my opinion, yes, he shouldn’t have done it (if he actually did that is!).

But the reaction to it all has been ridiculously over the top. These split arses including ‘our lionesses’ (do fuck off!), are going on like the cunt tore her kit off and arse raped her live on the telly, then invited all the male members of the crowd to have a go on it.

Of course, they’re calling for him to be sacked and have his life ruined already. ‘Unacceptable sexism from a patriarchal organisation’ say ‘our lionesses’.

Well I hope the Spanish (and English) FA bring in some real equality and tell the wiminz that from now, all funding for them is to be provided from the money they generate. Not by stealing from the ‘patriarchy’.

Strong, independent wimminz, innit?

Fuck off.

Bbc news

Nominated by Cuntybollocks.

More on this subject by Norman below.

More hilarity over the circus shitshow that is wimmins football.

Like the blacks and the BLM mob, these cunts are never happy. Like the ‘Lionesses’ with their money and merchandising, you just knew there would be something the winners would be moaning about too. Sure as eggs is bloody eggs.

Spain’s womens team wins the Minnie Mouse World Cup. Time for celebration. right?

Wrong.

Instead of celebrating, the wimmin footballers and the female social media hordes are having a massive chimp out. Because Federation president Luis Rubiales kissed playerJenni Hermoso on the lips after Spain’s Women’s World Cup win. Needless to say, those ever so perfect people at FIFA have suspended Rubiales.

Alright, he should have asked. But had she done it to him, no cunt would have given a shit or batted an eyelid. And, had it been two blokes? They would call it a ‘seismic historic moment’ and a ‘giant leap for LGBTQXYZ’. And, had she kissed another team mate? I have no doubt it would have been viewed as cheeky hijinks and gleefull cries of ‘what a character’ would have rung out. Caught in a moment and all that crap.

But, because it was a striaight fellah, a minor incident has been turned into a major crime and a witch hunt. As is their wont, these Me Too types will now hound this man into the dole queue and possibly into the ground. Thanks to these psychos, we now live in a world where a wolf whistle or a drunken hand on a knee is on a par with rape. Make a complaint against Rubiales by all means. But an enquiry for sexual violence? They really need to get some perspective and they also want to ask a real rape or assault victim what sexual violence is really like.

And besides, I remember Big Joe Jordan kissing Jimmy Greenhoff after Jim scored the winner in the 1979 FA Cup Semi Final Replay. It’s been going on for years.

And even more kiss and tell tales from Sir Limpy Stroke below.

Jesus H – the kiss on the lips of Jenni Hermoso (Spanish female football player) by Louis Rubiales (Spanish FA President) continues to monster the news all over.

Hermoso declares it was non-consensual, Rubales ignores calls to resign, his wife locks herself in a church and goes on hunger strike. Talk about Spanish Practices. For my money the real issue is Spanish Garlic Breath. Will accept that the ugly slaphead cunt looming down from a great height and planting a wet rubbery smacker is one to frighten the horses.

No evidence as yet that a tongue was involved (a la Jimmy Saville) but the inference may be drawn. Add to that the stench of garlic – a habitually Spanish phenomenon – and the situation gets, as our American friends have it, exceeding gross. I have experienced the old Spanish Kiss a few times in a long life and I think back to just post war when the various demob camps were visited by a Spanish filly, a flamenco dancer who travelled around with her maracas in a little Austin van. Forget the fillie’s name but never that kiss. Her supple tongue work was finished off by the belch of Hades, a blast of wind straight out of the deserts of North Africa via the rancid fishing ports of Morocco and originating in the spice and stench of the Maghreb.

My sympathies miss Hermoso and may you ride the heights of media exploitation and the depths of compensation.