Safe, unfunny, woke, middle class, boring.

Some stand up called Anya on telly whining shes been assaulted by blokes in comedy clubs.

Well if your audience smacks you one its pretty clear-cut they don’t like your act!

That wurzel sounding tumour Russell Howard flouncing off stage because a woman was filming on a phone?

“You’ve spoilt it now!”  Russell sobbed as he dashed away like a mardarse.

I doubt Bernard Manning would of been so unprofessional or handled it that way?

Too be fair Russell’s tantrum was funny!
Only time hes made me laugh anyway the boring little cunt.

Oh and middle class women?

Your not funny.

Unless you fall off stage.

Nominated by: Miserable Northern Cunt

Gentlemen (and wimminz).
For your cuntsideration:

Boli Bolingoli (honestly!)

Who he?
Him Dis, innit: https://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/sport/football/football-news/boli-bolingoli-quarantine-scandal-live-22502500

Another fine role model for our ever growing population of potential architects, budding formula 1 racers and grime artistes.

So Boli doesn’t think dat “whiteys” rules mean him too, so fucks off to Spain, breaking strict rules for Scottish Footballers, putting the whole Premier league up there at risk of being suspended.

Boli, what more can i say about your actions, but Golly!!!

Nominated by: Cuntfinder General 

Who? I hear you say. Well she is some daft woke wanker who got offended when she bought a Marks and Spencer brassiere:

https://www.aol.co.uk/news/2020/08/13/marks-and-spencer-apologises-for-racist-bra-colour-name-after-cu/

The easily offended cunt was upset that the tit wrapper she bought was called “Tobacco”. It was, apparently, “hurtful” to her , but not hurtful enough to buy the fucking thing, but so hurtful she had to go running off to the press about it. “Why couldn’t it had been called chocolate?” the brainless trollop whined, but if it had been that would have been terribly racist as well.

No doubt as M&S is a big company she is after “compensation”, but as they are a tight fisted company, tighter than a gnats arsehole at the best of times, and currently nearing basket case status, I wouldn’t hold my breath.

I am sure Hammy Lammy and Jucuzzi Butler will be available for comment. If these wankers are so easily offended, I suggest we hire some banana boats to take them on a one way trip back to de islands, where all is peaceful and de future is golden innit.

THE GUARDIAN

… yet a-fucking-gain!

Here’s a recent shreadline: ‘Looted Landmarks. How Notre-Dame, Big Ben and St Mark’s were stolen from the East.’

Turns out a lot of Western gothic architecture was influenced by what the Crusaders saw on their arabian Club 18-30 holidays (so called because they each clubbed to death eighteen to thirty people.)

Well, no shit! As the blokes selling bargain bling on Oxford Street used to say, ‘it’s all nicked!’ Is the Guardian now going to publish an article on how all those Saudi sky-scrapers are rip-offs of the first building of that kind, the Flat Iron building in New York?

Are they fuck!

Are the Bubbles and the Eye-Ties going to kick up a stink about the American Senate with all its columns being so obviously Greco-Roman?

Are they fuck!

I wonder what would actually satisfy the rabidly right-on writer of this article? Converting all three of the named buildings into mosques? Dismantling them stone by stone and shipping them back to their supposed countries of origin?

If you’re all so damn concerned about correct memorialisation, journalists of the Guardian, you’ll be pleased to learn that I plan on carving each and every one of your deranged faces into my own personal Mount Cuntmore!

Nominated by Chimp Licker

Not content with being aggrandised to demi-god status by his fellow scum and simpletons soley for his bunging of small round things, were-walrus Warnie has launched a fragrance imaginatively called ‘SW23’.

In the ads he wears an expensive jacket and a flash watch, as if he were the summit of sophistication and not actually a sub-literate sex-pest monkey-man entirely made from spoiled pork products and crowned with a syrup crow-barred off the cranium of Princess Di’s spunk-swollen corpse.

Frankly, I’d sooner scent myself with WD40 than SW23, but I can’t help wondering what you cunters suppose his tinned stink smells like?

Nominated by: Chimp Licker