More to the point, the ones that truly think they are the characters they play.

Examples are the Cunt that is Hugh Bonneville, thinking he is an Earl, another is the russian bint honestly thinking she is the queen, Fat Cunt Cordon being the fat cunt he was on Gavin and Stacey, Most ex Bonds actors truly thinking they now are James Bond, Ross Kemp and Danny Dyer both being a bigger cunts than they orginally played on TV but of the same persona.

The list can go on, but they all and up as one. A total bunch of cunts.

Nominated by: King Cunt

So boom goes Belgium, the land orf horsemeat and paedos (live long enough and some wishes do come true). Now the bastard Belgies were renowned for running one orf the worst colonial shows in bloody Africa right up to the 60’s, the Congo, and that is saying something. Even trumped the french johnnies for mindless barbarity but then those glorified froggy cunts are still at it. Worth reminding ourselves that the French still actually have colonies or as they like to term it “colonial relationships” http://www.siliconafrica.com/france-colonial-tax/ and were renowned for their sadistic rule and involvement in the slave trade.

Point is Monsewer Froggy is still coining it from the muslim areas “overseen” by La Belle France and has a natural floating pissed orf muslim population hence the little spot orf recent bother. Brother Belgie orn the other hand has had little to do with our Muslim friends. So why the joyful choruses orf Allahu Akbar resounding from Brussels as their bollocks hit the floor and their brains decorate the ceiling? Why a heady mix orf post colonial guilt and ultra PCdom me dears. A reverse colonisation inviting in any number orf muslim psychos supported by social fund euros resulting in a pressure cooker orf resentment, blame and entitlement which is destined to ahem, explode.

Not to forget Meinheer Dutch Johnny who has a liberal quantity orf same guilt for same reasons. Any orf you cunters who have dropped their bollocks will remember the early mid sixties as a time orf colonial twilights and bloody savagery. Congo, Brazzaville, Algeria oh and the froggies started orf the Vietnam show. Soldier orf Fortune days and a number orf good mates chose to go out that way, one last hurrah. Stupid cunts.

If I may quote from the Spectator “From Lille in the south, via Brussels, Antwerp, The Hague all the way to Rotterdam, whole towns and suburbs have Muslim populations in excess of 40 per cent.”

Fuck me. Va va voooom and try and catch yer bollocks. Glad I’ve still got me old tin hat.

( Nice touch to feature a photo orf yours truly donchathink? Shows I care… )

Nominated by: Sir Limply Stoke

Wonacott rarely fucking shows up these days, apparenlty because he’s had a row with the producers so they’ve booted him off the gravy train. I wonder if he twatted one of them like Clarkson (allegedly) did? Hope so, they probably deserved it. I think the real reason is because he’s busy helping the BBC rip off their other show (Antiques Roadshow vs Road trip, either way it’s fucking boring) or he’s at home dyeing his barnett an ever darker shade of ‘Raven’s Feather’ black…

So now we have to put up with the so-called array of ‘experts’ whose attempts at replicating Wonacott’s lively patter generally translates as bouncing around and grinning like they’ve shat a Faberge egg whilst managing to consistently buy any old shit for more money than anybody else will ever pay for it. There’s got to be some back-handers afoot here (it is the BBC)… I saw one show when a fucking dealer turned up at the auction and bought his own item back, for about £20 less than the contestants had paid him for it! Does the Beeb expect me to believe that this inner circle of junk-shop merchants aren’t all in it together? It all seems pretty fucking chummy to me.

Money for old rope. Literally.

Nominated by: Nickleby

Nominated by: Norman

The first ad break suggested that should my partner sneeze, cough, or laugh, she may possibly piss herself! Whilst I was informed I should be looking at a funeral plan.

Film continues, new add break. Now I never knew this, but when we take the dog out and she goes blackberry picking, its not so, she is having a sneeky shit behind a bush because she doesn’t take Imodium instants.

At this point my relaxing tickle my ribs entertainment has turned into a rather sinister, “Has she shat herself?” She laughed, “Should I check the sofa” (note to self plastic seat covers, before stair lift) then realising if I mention any of this, I have no funeral plan.

Well done target advertising, I’m off to see Dad’s army next week, fuck knows how you are going to spoil that one.

Nominated by: Lord Benny