X-Factor 2018 EP 1 needs cunting.
The idiots (family) in my house insist they watch this pap and so – for the first two or three episodes – I watch alongside them.
Why? Cos I love the car crash fuckers whose tuning forks were last used to dig tatties out of the ground.
This year I have not seen one shite cunt (in the non plastic pop sense) yet. So what’s the fucking point!?!
But the real piss-boiler is having to tolerate the vocal squeakings (audible to pipistrelles only) of some Pikey bog-trotter YOOF who they gave chance, after chance, after chance to get something, anything right, just cos the cunt looks like a boy band reject
Fuck off Cowell you cunt, show the real fucking dross that everyone actually wants to piss themselves at rather than the gushing over the “culturally enriched” fuckers who are “always great” (even when they are not) and sympathy Emerald Isle cunts who are simply dreadful but whom we feel responsible for because of the potato famine or summat.
EP1 is enough for me. From now on X Factor = a 4cer of McEwan’s Export in the kitchen wi’ the radio on!
Cunts!
Nominated by Rebel without a Cunt!