“Good afternoon. This is IsAC’s Sexual Matters Correspondent Ron Knee reporting.
Today I bring you the cautionary tale of Pablo the ‘gender fluid’ dachshund, who has inadvertently caused a bit of a rumpus down Cambridgeshire way.

The saga began in 2023, during a meeting of Cambridgeshire County Council’s LGBTQ+ whatever employment group. A certain Gleicon Analha (such an appropriate surname) introduced his mutt Pablo to the group. Pablo had been dressed in a fetching little frock for the occasion, and Mr Anal (for he most certainly is) announced that the pooch was indeed ‘gender fluid’.

A social worker (lesbian, natch) by the name of Elizabeth Pitt responded ‘your dog’s male!’, a statement which was backed up by another colleague. This prompted Anal to claim that Lizzie’s comments were ‘transphobic’, and left others ‘shaking, feeling threatened and horrified by such disrespectful comments’. Yes really.

As a result of Anal’s preposterous whining, Pitt was subjected to disciplinary action by the Council, but wasn’t prepared simply to bend over and take it. No, she took the Cuntsil to a tribuneral, citing harassment and discrimination based on her gender critical views. What’s more she won her case, leaving the Council to reflect on the fact that it had to fork out £52k in damages plus £8k in costs.

So who am I actually calling out here? Well clearly the anally retentive Mr Analha, for dressing up his pooch and transferring his fixations on to it, and then acting like a lump of quivering jelly and taking a right hissy fit when it was pointed out that Pablo was, well, a doggy, and a boy one at that. Then the Council clearly needs a kick up the arse for taking disciplinary action against an employee in response to such ludicrous snowflakery.

In closing, let’s spare a thought for poor little Pablo, whose thoughts and feelings seem to have been completely overlooked in all the hoo-ha. The whole experience must have left him really traumatised, and we can only hope that he’s been receiving the counselling and support he needs to recover. A bone and a leg of any gender to hump might help too.

This is Ron Knee, for IsAC, returning you to the studio”.

Daily Fail

Nominated by Ron Knee.

are a pair of cunts.

Welcome cunters to the new Game Show taking the country by storm. I give you SUPERMARKET SWEEP, where contestants Keir and Vicky Sponger are given £107,000 to spend as they please, but in limited time before the game is up.

Enjoy watching as the Spongers rush through the store throwing Arsenal, Taylor Swift and Coldplay tickets into their trolley. Suits for Keir and frocks for Vicky get bagged as well before the Spongers retire to a luxury penthouse for a well-earned rest.

Also planned for the autumn’s TV schedules:
David ‘Henry VII’ Lammy in Brainbox Challenge
Dirty Ange in Slagheap Challenge
Rachel Thieves in The Great British Granny Freeze
and last but not least…
Huw Edwards in It’s a Knobout

Compulsive viewing for us all.

spectator

Nominated by Geordie Twatt

A double cunting for a whinging harridan and everyone’s favourite media outlet.
Poor Nadiya, desperate for some earth shattering revelation to promote her new tv series, has apparently come up with this.

“There was constant pressure to prove how British I was”
Sounds pretty damning doesn’t it? Only, that’s not exactly what she said.
What she actually said was this.

“ There was constant pressure to prove how British I was, how Bangladeshi, how Muslim”
So apart from her tiresome ‘woe is me’ self promotion, we’ve got the BBC resorting to headline writing so antagonistic that it would make Kelvin McKenzie blush.
Nadiya would do well to remember that her current career is based purely on her ethnicity and religion, fuck all else. Stop whinging and be grateful.

And the BBC are still a bunch of race baiting, divisive cunts.

bbcnews

Nominated by Field Marshal Cuntgomery.

Lack of Ambition

When I left school, many year’s ago, wages for a 16 year old were shit.
I would have been lucky to earn more than £15 a week.

We are talking about a long time ago.

The thing to do was to sign up for casual, agency work.
You could work whenever you wanted to, and for me that was every day.
The rate of pay was much better and you were not tied down to any particular company.

Those were the days before health and safety were thought about.
No special licence was needed to drive a forklift so one day I may be working in a warehouse and the next doing a night shift loading delivery trucks.

There was work available every day and night, so if I didn’t particularly want to work in one place I would ask for somewhere else to go.

The agency sent me to a local steel drum factory once.
A guy showed me what to do.

My job was to shove a steam cleaning hose into the steel drums that came past on a conveyor belt.
The drums would then be flipped over so that whatever shit was inside would get cleaned out.

Not really rocket science.

The factory was noisy so nobody could be heard if they were talking or even shouting.

The next guy up the line to me would bash the top of the now clean steels drums to put them back into shape after they had expanded with the heat.

Every hour an alarm would sound and all worked stopped.
We were given a half pint of milk to drink as the work was so hot.

In one of those breaks I found out from the drum banger that he had been at the factory for over 20 years.
Doing the exact same job.

Over 20 fucking years standing in the same place, day in day out, hitting steel drums with a big mallet.

What sort of cunt would want to spend their entire working life hitting steel drums with a big hammer?

Turning up and going home at the same time every day.
The half pint of milk every hour, forever.
Waiting for his pay cheque every Friday.
His working life controlled by an alarm sounding.
Probably the same 2 week holiday to the same place every year.

Lunch time was also started with the alarm bell.
The entire workforce stopped and made their way to the huge canteen.

In the canteen there was a line of workers with their trays, queueing up for whatever was on offer.

Probably the same thing on the same day every week.

The thing that struck me was that although there were many dozens of people queueing up to eat, nobody spoke.
There was just the clatter of cutlery to break the silence.

The misery of working in the shit hole had completely destroyed those guys.

I put my tray back from where I got it.
I left the canteen and walked out of the factory and got the bus home.

Although asked, I never went back there again.

Nominated by The Artful Cunter.

If you can imagine the magnitude of the thick-as-pig shit stupidity of David Lammy, Dawn Butler, Diane Abbott , Joey Essex and Ant & Dec mixed together, it doesn’t begin to compare to the stupidity of this fucking daft twat, who is a Lib-Dem councillor, who claims to have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, because of Brexit.

She has frequently lost her voice (probably a blessing in disguise considering she talks shit), been really ill, poor cow because she “regards herself as European before being British” and they have ripped away her “identity”.

However at the end of her fucking daft speech the real reason for her sadness comes through – she has a daughter who would like to work in Europe and she herself planned on retiring to Spain.

Oh dear, how sad, never mind. These remarks were made at the South Coast Autumn Pantomime – The Liberal Democrat Party Conference.

I think the silly fucker IS ill – she is fucking insane:

Daily Express.

Nominated by : W. C. Boggs