Ungrateful Cunts

Three times during my career I recommended people to help get them fixed up with a job at the place where I worked. The first was a bloke called Paul who wasn’t really a friend, he’d ingratiated himself with some of my mates at the pub. He had lost his job at a supermarket and was moaning about having no money. I asked for him at my place of work and they gave him a job in the loading bay. He lasted about two weeks, he was fired after they found him asleep in the back of a wagon. Didn’t make me look good.

At another company my manager told me they were going to need to take on around a dozen women in a hurry, to do packing work and asked if I knew anyone. I said yes, the girlfriend of a mate had been unemployed for some time. Can’t remember her name. He said see if you can bring her in. I went to her house and told her about the job, and she said yes immediately. She lasted a couple of months, then gave it up and went back to being unemployed. When I saw her I asked her why she’d quit. She said she just didn’t like it and gave silly excuses. What’s liking it got to do with anything? It was a job, she was earning money.

The third time, I was working in an office and my manageress told me they knew I had more work than one person could handle and they were going to employ a junior to help me. i was dubious about this – if the junior wasn’t any good, I’d have to tell them, then they’d get another one who might be no better. If the chosen junior turned out to be good, how long would they stay, working for such a low salary? About three months earlier, they’d hired a woman called Elaine to do a temporary job which had come to an end. I had got along extremely well with Elaine, she was a good worker and I’d been sorry to see her go. I asked my manageress if they’d consider taking Elaine on full time as my assistant. They did, and agreed to pay her twice as much as the junior was going to get.

I didn’t know what I’d let myself in for. She started back and it was like working with a completely different person, it was as though her twin sister had turned up instead. She was less than friendly, awkward, uncooperative, even argumentative. She tried to divide the work up into ‘hers’ and ‘mine’ and moaned about her wage because she knew I was getting more. A number of times I thought about talking to the manageress about the situation, but it was me who recommended her and I would’ve felt foolish. The atmosphere between us became almost hostile and then, hearing that the company was relocating to another town, she gave in her notice, which came as a relief. I vowed never to recommend anyone for a job again, and I didn’t.

The Daily Star

Nominated by Allan.

Fridgescaping


Fridgescaping.

This nom will be of no help to cunters who, in the pursuit of whatever dubious thrills, have become locked inside a refrigerator. No, here is a matter of serious concern, a hideous new trend of which we should all take heed. Born of the mindset which lines its yard with gnomes, fairy lights, immense plastic butterflies or cement casts of the Buddha, this deviation (we may reasonably surmise) is the product of the broody or nesting female of the species. For whom the stark austerity of chilled groceries on shelves is too much to bear. And who, having duly decorated this purely functional space with knickknacks and objets de tat, will inevitably demand from the breadwinner, ever-larger refrigerators to accommodate her perversion…

CNN Link

Nominated by: Komodo

Pissheads


Pissheads

The wife and I parked up at our local supermarket yesterday and on heading for the entrance, were confronted by an all too common sight these days; the pisshead.

There he was, sprawled against the wall, manky from head to foot; and having spent his hard-earned benefits on large bottles of cider and cans of lager, going off on one at customers going in and out of the store.

‘Wassa lookin’ a’ yer fuckers’ he ranted at us, ‘ bassas fuck off the lorra ya’ etc. I swear that it was just like seeing the legendary ‘Brown Bottle’ brought to life in front of our eyes;

Flickr Link

We came out about half an hour later and he was still sprawled out, only now he’d pissed himself and was sitting in an expanding pool while two scuffers and a store security guard tried to get some sense out of him.

Now don’t get me wrong; I like a drink, but bloody Nora. This cunt was making a public spectacle of himself where he could be seen by youngsters as well as everybody else. Part of me had a little bit of sympathy for someone reduced to that state, but then you could argue that he’d brought it on himself.

I know it’s commonplace for people to think that being drunk is funny, but all too often drunks are antisocial (see any town centre on Saturday night), sometimes plain nasty, and worst of all, dangerous. As I said, I like a drink, but pissheads can get to fuck.

Daily Mail Link

Nominated by: Ron Knee

The hazard perception test

is a cunt

Sorry, it’s bollocks. I’m practicing it at the moment and on so many clips, you get penalised for clicking early. If the goal of the theory test is to make the roads safer, why on earth are we encouraged to only click when a hazard is developing instead of when we first see the potential for it?

All this crap does is promote reactive as opposed to proactive driving.

reddit.com

Nominated by Opinionated Cunt.

Dead Pool [334]

Congratulations to Silver Haired cunt who correctly predicted the death of the veteran actor Kenneth Cope who has died aged 93.Cope had a varied career starring in Coronation Street , the Carry On Films, Brookside and Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased).He died yesterday surrounded by his family.

On to Dead Pool 334

1)Nominate 5 famous cunts you think will conk out next.Its first come and first serve.No duplicates allowed.You can always be a cunt and steal someone elses nominations from the previous pool.

2)Anyone who nominates the worlds oldest man or woman is a cunt who will be ignored.

3)It must be a famous cunt we have heard of.

4)Mo swapping picks mid pool unless your pick has already been taken.

5)Hits are awarded based on chronology of death reporting not necessarily chronology of death.