Ok, a bit a strange one, because I’m taking a rest from nominating “celebrities” and “politicians”. Let’s face it, they prove themselves to be cunts on a daily basis. So I’m doing a nomination for something that has bothered me since the day I left the Army. Regrets. Yes, regrets. And one in particular. I deeply regret that I never applied for selection to the SAS, because I will have to live the rest of my life wondering whether I could have made it. Personally, I think I could. I definitely had the fitness, and mentally I was tougher than most. But I’ll never know and it pisses me off.

When I first enlisted, I served with 7 Para, Royal Horse Artillery. Didn’t actually want to do it, but once the guys in the careers office found out that I’m originally from Texas, and can ride a horse, I was…erm..gently steered toward that regiment. Fortunately, I really enjoyed it. Not clearing out the horses, I hated that, but the job itself and the mates I made. And by the time I’d done my three years at the age of 19, I was talked out of going for 22 Regt, in favour of 29 Commando RA. “It’s just as dangerous” I was told. Lying cunts.

In the end, it turned out to almost be true. Because I was a qualified parachutist, and then a qualified commando, I was placed with a unit known as 148 Battery. Turns out this was a pretty awesome unit. Our job was go behind enemy lines, carry out surveillance on the enemy and if necessary, to call in the air force/SAS/SBS/Navy Seals etcetera to bring the enemy a serious case of death. We had all kinds of awesome gadgets, such as secure, encrypted comms, manned by our trusty matelot, Seaman Staines. We had laser designators, the best night vision every piece of tech you could imagine. We had mad skills too. We were trained to patrol behind enemy line, how to set up an OP (observation post) covertly, concealment, stealth and battle damage assesment, covert insertion methods, including from a submarine. We even got some of the training the SAS get, such as SERE (Survival Evasion Resistance Extraction). When we were captured, would have to go through the same ‘enhanced interrogation’ training as the SAS, which really fucks with your sense of reality. Unlike the SAS though, it takes about ten months of training. Whereas SF training takes two years.

Despite having such an awesome job though, one which most people could not do, I still regretted not going for the SAS. Like I said, I’ll never know if I’d have been good enough. It’s irrational I know. But that regret will always be with me. And I wish it would fuck off.

Nominated by: Quick Draw McGraw

I would like to nominate the number of multicultural adverts. Now i work with many decent black/asian people and they never bang on about this diversity propaganda. Yet television now apears to have this persistent agenda to shove it down are throats. Over and over again! . Now i am not suggesting that blacks/ asians should not be represented. However from my observation it apears about 40% of the these adverts are non white. So going on the basis that they are approximately 13% of the population, they are fucking over represented. Now of course moaning cunt mr Henry, will still whinge, there are to many honkies on tv. ITS NOT BLACK ENOUGH!!.

Yet is this realy about diversity?. Because if so, why are there no chineese people featured. Of course its all about who ever shouts and moans, gets the rewards.

I am now sick and tired of are nation. Are we living in Britania?, the land of Shakespeare, Newton, Churchhill and Dickens. Or are we living in Southern Botswana?

Nominated by: Tono

Recent talk hereabouts of seaside resorts has put me in mind of amusement arcades, and the way they have changed for the worse over the years.

When I was a nipper I loved the pinball machines, the penny pushers, and above all, the coin-operated video games. I cut my teeth on such simple fare as Space Invaders and Pac Man before a few years later gorging the gore-hound in me on the bloody mayhem of such games as Operation Wolf.

Now the games are all carnage-free with nary a decapitated communist in sight, the pinballs have been stolen away to the basements of hipster wankers, and the penny pusher has been transported to television where it forms the basis of ‘Tipping Point’ – a show starring and watched by simpletons, scroungers and scum.

In their place have arrived dancefloor simulators where tosspot Travoltas thrash around like Joey Deacon with a cattle-prod shoved up his cat flap, and claw-grabbers with less grip than Stephen Hawking’s wanking hand. And the prizes on offer? Moth-eaten knock-off Spongebob Squarepants dolls where once you could have got your hands on one of those pens that if you turned it upside down, the girl’s bikini disappeared!

Okay, maybe arcades were never that good, but oh how the shitey have fallen!

Nominated by: Chimp Licker

This is a slightly niche cunting, but hopefully understandable.

Growing up in Ian Smith’s UDI era Rhodesia, we suffered very badly from sanctions meaning few countries would officially trade with us. But I really wanted a 1600 escort sport, so I traveled down to Pretoria and in February 1979 bought a brand new one all the trimmings and brought it back to Rhodesia.

I still have the car as it was shipped over (fuck knows why as I wasn’t allowed anything else). My beef with these enthusiast cunts is that recently I was looking to buy one due to their simple engineering and reliability to replace mine that needs a full rebuild and respray.

Could I find one for less than 10 grand? could I fuck. The reason is overgrown balding man-child types buy them for “customising” and racing round like cunts on dual carriageways. You know the types that go to Aldi for their food because they’ve spunked their money on a fucking Dixie horn like a 17 year old who’s just sniffed his first bag of Gorilla glue, thus depriving the good Captain of an opportunity for a cheap easy to drive motor of which I’m familiar.

Saw a “yooful” kaffir in one the other day, must of sold a lot of dope and “biatchees” to pay for it, cunts to man and beast, “shove you burn outs up you arse” fucking oafs

Nominated by: Captain Quimson