I would like to nominate for a colossal cunting – that most eminent of cunts; the purpose-built, piss-kettle known as the supermarket.

There are so very many things wrong about this most unpleasant cunt of an experience that it only seems proper to begin where they all begin…….. the car park!

Upon entry into said park of cars, it would seem that most people (mainly in vagina-powered cars I hasten to add) lose any minor semblance of driving aptitude they may have possessed prior to crossing that threshold. White lines painted onto the asphalt to denote who does and doesn’t have right of way at a junction?……….. No it’s okay, you just drive right over them with no glance left or right and give a filthy look to the guy who just had to slam on his brakes, narrowly miss you and honk his fucking horn.

On a particularly busy day, it may be difficult to find a space that isn’t either narrow as fuck on account of the knobhead with the wide-as-balls, 16 plate range rover or the prick who just parks over the line so you can’t quite fit into the space without having to escape through the fucking sunroof (a thing for which my wheelie-shed KIA is sadly deficient).

Then there is the usual time spent waiting for some doddery, old twat to reverse out of a space which would have been safer to reverse INTO! Yes dickhead! It’s quicker and safer to reverse in and drive out you dumb fuck! You have better visibility driving forward out of a space!

Then when you do finally find a space in the MIDDLE of the car park right next to one of those perspex trolley parks (these spaces tend to be a little narrower), upon reversing into the space, what do you see in your rear view mirror but a fucking trolley?!……. you fucking lazy CUNTS! You are right next to the trolley park! And don’t play the disabled card with me – the disabled spaces are up at the front of the shop near the front door…… right next to the main trolley park. You are just a selfish, lazy fuck.

Okay so we finally reach the Mordor…….. I mean……. the front door. This part of the shopping experience is reminiscent of a scene from George.A.Romero’s Dawn of the dead wherein the living dead patrons are so keen to get into the establishment to forage for goodies but aren’t apparently in any great rush to reach said goodies. What you are met with is a slow-moving, ignorant cunt with no self awareness, peripheral vision or consideration for others.

This phenomenon doesn’t stop here however; it continues throughout the store. Need to walk down an aisle merely to reach something at the other end? Well expect the gormless bell-end walking down the middle of the aisle (with no hearing skills, peripheral vision or spacial awareness) to just stop out of the blue and force you to stand there like a cunt while it remembers where it kept it’s brain.

Maybe you want to get something from the small, narrow, reduced-to-clear section in the chilled department? Just wait a while so the selfish, greedy, middle-aged bint stands right in front of, and hogs the entire section so that you can’t even slot into one side to take a close look at what is there.

When you do finally reach the check-outs however, it’s either a long as fuck queue behind some dopey Cyril or Doris chatting with the equally old and slow-at-packing till-mong called Geoffrey or it’s a trip to the “express”, self-service tills – righto……… self-service tills it is then.

Now you have to go through the humiliation of putting your multiple bottles of beer through the scanner, only to be met with the deafeningly loud “APPROVAL NEEDED, APPROVAL NEEDED, APPROVAL NEEDED”…….. for every fucking bottel! ……….. all the while, the same breed of ignorant, old and middle-aged women you just tried to traverse and avoid are staring at you with utter contempt like you are some kind of scumfuck………… Yeah I have a drink problem, go fuck yourself! No-one else will you old hag!.

So when the creature allegedly manning the self-service tills eventually does come and give approval for the booze, they generally don’t even look at you anyway which makes me wonder why I waited in the first place – I’m a grownup, I can approve myself.

Finally there is the usual attempt to get out of the place behind, once again, some dippy old couple or some fat, smelly couple. Either way, I am glad to be out of there without any kind of criminal record. Please fellow cunters, reassure me that I’m not just some cantankerous, curmudgeonly misanthrope and that supermarkets and those who dwell within are actually cunts?!

Nominated by Two In The Stink

knitted chugger cunt

A night of ABBC cringe-worthy programming interspersed with famous cunts in Africa still following M’Tebe on his 8 mile walk to get a pail of water liberally mixed with bison piss only to walk back again.

“And it takes M’Tebe all day to do this. And the next day he sets off again. It’s a never ending battle just to get this most basic provision.”

Hey Ewan MacGregor, while you’re there, why not tell M’Tebe to move nearer to the fucking water? Oh, and while you’re on, instead of interviewing the hand-wringing mothers and their rotund bellied offspring, how about finding one of the papa-san’s who’s responsible for continually impregnating them? Oh, and don’t wait for the cunt to take off his AK-47 and dual bandoleros of 7.62 rifle rounds!

The ABBC will throw in the odd token local raspberry foundation story but – like Sir Cunt Geldof before them – the real story of the night is Africa.

It’s not that I’m unsympathetic to the plight of the starving millions in the dark continent, it’s just that after 40yrs and billions of pounds in worldwide aid, nothing has changed. Millions still starving, countries still run by tyrannical despots (who annex said monies/aid for themselves or to then sell it on to the peoples it was intended for in the first place), and the rich and famous still using it as a vehicle to signal how virtuous and caring they are, when the reality is that we all know they’re cunts at heart!

I used to be duped into giving to Pudsey and his clan but when I hit my 30’s I decided that the money would actually do more good in my own arse pocket because once the exec administrators have taken their cut, the aid facilitators taken their cut, the transporters taken their cut – only for the remainder to be annexed by the destinating Govt – poor old M’Tebe is lucky if there’s enough left to afford him an extra fly to go along with his 2 grains of rice and glass of bison piss!

Fuck off Children in Need!

And fuck off ABBC! If you’re that bothered about children, then please explain Savile? You cunts!

Nominated by Rebel without a Cunt!

We appear to be in the midst of another full blown Moral Panic. This sort of bullshit is nothing new.

The Govt, career politicians, commentators and opinion makers, having run out of easy ‘fool the public’ pain-free solutions to our urgent virtually impossible to solve issues, have gratefully latched onto the latest media bandwagon frenzy (Weinstein vs. slags) to distract and smother the infantile, snowflake electorate under a slag heap of sinister trivia. Talk about ‘Fiddling’ while Rome burns!

Another cunting due for Humanity at large anyone?

Nominated by Shitcake Baker

I would like to nominate self-entitled sportswomen for a cunting.

Two examples of note in the last week alone:

Eni Aluko, England footballer. Earlier in 2017, she accuses her England manager, Mark Sampson, of racism and harassment. He is found not guilty by the FA but then gets sacked anyway for another matter. This week, self-important martyr Ms. Aluko tweets that she is ‘disappointed by the lack of support from her England team-mates’. Jesus Christ, what more does this fucking uppity cunt want? Red carpet and reading slippers all laid on? Cunt off.

Then next up we have Jess Varnish. This was the track cyclist who couldn’t handle being dropped from the UK team, turning on her then-technical director Shane Sutton and playing the sexism accusation card. Notwithstanding that Sutton was cleared on eight charges, Sutton resigned and the women’s lib got their way. Not being enough for Varnish, she is now suing UK Sport and British Cycling, citing victimisation and unfair dismissal.

So much for women being ‘equal’ to men. Top coaches and directors bawl the most vitriolic abuse at their players/athletes to get performance out of them, always have done. Unfortunately, equality only seems to apply to the advantageous, so when the little darlings can’t handle the less glamorous aspects of competitive sport, they play the card(s). Fuck right off.

Nominated by The Empire Cunts Back

I would like to cunt the adverts on LBC.

Fuck me, I haven’t timed them but they must take up a good 25 minutes of each hour. I like listening to LBC,even O’Briern , but the ads drive me nuts, i turn em down actually. I particularly loathe those ads where at the end they blather on about ‘terms and conditions’ as though they are just an afterthought whereas that is in fact the most important stuff you need to know, they only mention them because they are required by law to do so..

oh yeh British Gas stick that penguin up your arse, not funny.

Nominated by Richard1