Jesus wept. In what realm can this website exist without a single entry for Al-BBC political correspondent Laura Kuenssberg? Putting aside the very real possibility that I myself am a monumental cunt who is unable to properly negotiate the complex procedure of using the search button, please allow me to correct this major oversight.

If I was feeling tired and not up to the job, I’d stop at calling her face the visual encyclopedic definition of Sour Trout. I’d perhaps call the slant-jawed cunt a post-op Douglas Carswell. I could give a succinct yet visceral one-liner about how she looks like a woman with a vagina that smells of fermented tuna. I could even stop at merely calling her a smug, self-satisfied cunt.

No Laura. You aren’t getting off that easily I’m afraid.

Her predecessors, human-sized stool samples like Robert Peston, Andrew Marr and Nick Robinson all brought the level of cuntitude one would expect to the role of dramatising the boring world of Whitehall; infested with dull suits, doublespeak and empty promises. But Kuntssberg takes this to volume fucking 11 – the trademark sneer, the endless namesdropping of ‘her sources’ close to whoever is of momentary press importance, and most cuntly of all, the obvious look of joy on the face of a cunt who actually wants to BE the news as much as she reports on it. You can tell this abomination is a coffee-fuelled, brown-nosing shitstain who scours Twitter during any spare moment when her wonky fucking gob isn’t chattering away on the Al-BBC News or the Daily Bollocktics, desperate for that ‘angle’ that only a cunt like her can revel in regaling. She’s the fucking journalistic equivalent of a 3rd place finishing Apprentice contestant; the soulless talentless cunt you just want to forget but who just keeps whoring themselves around the fucking airwaves.

Her performance in the general election warranted a severe cunting; presumably being out-cunted by many of the politicians at the time. Practically door-stepping Treeza on the morning after the result, as much as May is a cunt herself, summed up Kuntssberg’s shouty-cunty approach to political journalism.

I read that the cunt now needs to he escorted everywhere by bouncers, such is the notoriety her cuntitude has afforded her. All spun of course by her employers as the ‘misogynistic abuse of women in TV’ or something – no, it’s because Laura Kuenssberg packs more cunt to the ounce than most people exude in their entire lifetime.

Nominated by The Empire Cunts Back.