Virtue signaling mask wearers.

Yes. Those holier than thou self important Cunts that walk and drive around on there own wearing a fucking muzzle. These fucks get right up my nose ( no pun intended ).

They berate others in supermarkets for coming within a 3 metres of them. Some muzzle wearer last week was directing people the correct way in Tescos , that did it, I went right up to his face and asked him if he’s the fucking corridor Police and told him to fuck off and leave it to the staff to deal with.

As I said before these useful idiots have been so scared by the BBC and SLY that they will be wearing them long after it’s gone and continue to wash their hands a hundred times a day. It’s usually middle class lefties where I live in Hove that do this. What also gets me is these same cunts didn’t believe a word the Government said about Brexit last year now they believe everything they’re told. Muzzles are symbol of obedience. I get it when your tightly squeezed together on Public transport but not in wide open spaces.

Nominated by: Fenton Fistula

…. and this from Paul McCuntley

Boris Johnson is making it mandatory to wear pointless, useless masks in public.

Many of you think it’s a great idea and he should have done it ages ago. You are also cunts. Stupid cunts who for some reason trust the media and the govt, even though they have proved time and time again that they lie, cheat and steal and kill.

The mandatory mask will lead to other mandatory things, like vaccinations and microchipping. And you foolish cunts will be cheering it on. Cunts.

My mask will have a message on it. I haven’t decided on the wording yet. It has to be short and snappy. “Happy now, Cunt?” maybe.

Ok, a bit a strange one, because I’m taking a rest from nominating “celebrities” and “politicians”. Let’s face it, they prove themselves to be cunts on a daily basis. So I’m doing a nomination for something that has bothered me since the day I left the Army. Regrets. Yes, regrets. And one in particular. I deeply regret that I never applied for selection to the SAS, because I will have to live the rest of my life wondering whether I could have made it. Personally, I think I could. I definitely had the fitness, and mentally I was tougher than most. But I’ll never know and it pisses me off.

When I first enlisted, I served with 7 Para, Royal Horse Artillery. Didn’t actually want to do it, but once the guys in the careers office found out that I’m originally from Texas, and can ride a horse, I was…erm..gently steered toward that regiment. Fortunately, I really enjoyed it. Not clearing out the horses, I hated that, but the job itself and the mates I made. And by the time I’d done my three years at the age of 19, I was talked out of going for 22 Regt, in favour of 29 Commando RA. “It’s just as dangerous” I was told. Lying cunts.

In the end, it turned out to almost be true. Because I was a qualified parachutist, and then a qualified commando, I was placed with a unit known as 148 Battery. Turns out this was a pretty awesome unit. Our job was go behind enemy lines, carry out surveillance on the enemy and if necessary, to call in the air force/SAS/SBS/Navy Seals etcetera to bring the enemy a serious case of death. We had all kinds of awesome gadgets, such as secure, encrypted comms, manned by our trusty matelot, Seaman Staines. We had laser designators, the best night vision every piece of tech you could imagine. We had mad skills too. We were trained to patrol behind enemy line, how to set up an OP (observation post) covertly, concealment, stealth and battle damage assesment, covert insertion methods, including from a submarine. We even got some of the training the SAS get, such as SERE (Survival Evasion Resistance Extraction). When we were captured, would have to go through the same ‘enhanced interrogation’ training as the SAS, which really fucks with your sense of reality. Unlike the SAS though, it takes about ten months of training. Whereas SF training takes two years.

Despite having such an awesome job though, one which most people could not do, I still regretted not going for the SAS. Like I said, I’ll never know if I’d have been good enough. It’s irrational I know. But that regret will always be with me. And I wish it would fuck off.

Nominated by: Quick Draw McGraw

I would like to nominate the number of multicultural adverts. Now i work with many decent black/asian people and they never bang on about this diversity propaganda. Yet television now apears to have this persistent agenda to shove it down are throats. Over and over again! . Now i am not suggesting that blacks/ asians should not be represented. However from my observation it apears about 40% of the these adverts are non white. So going on the basis that they are approximately 13% of the population, they are fucking over represented. Now of course moaning cunt mr Henry, will still whinge, there are to many honkies on tv. ITS NOT BLACK ENOUGH!!.

Yet is this realy about diversity?. Because if so, why are there no chineese people featured. Of course its all about who ever shouts and moans, gets the rewards.

I am now sick and tired of are nation. Are we living in Britania?, the land of Shakespeare, Newton, Churchhill and Dickens. Or are we living in Southern Botswana?

Nominated by: Tono

Recent talk hereabouts of seaside resorts has put me in mind of amusement arcades, and the way they have changed for the worse over the years.

When I was a nipper I loved the pinball machines, the penny pushers, and above all, the coin-operated video games. I cut my teeth on such simple fare as Space Invaders and Pac Man before a few years later gorging the gore-hound in me on the bloody mayhem of such games as Operation Wolf.

Now the games are all carnage-free with nary a decapitated communist in sight, the pinballs have been stolen away to the basements of hipster wankers, and the penny pusher has been transported to television where it forms the basis of ‘Tipping Point’ – a show starring and watched by simpletons, scroungers and scum.

In their place have arrived dancefloor simulators where tosspot Travoltas thrash around like Joey Deacon with a cattle-prod shoved up his cat flap, and claw-grabbers with less grip than Stephen Hawking’s wanking hand. And the prizes on offer? Moth-eaten knock-off Spongebob Squarepants dolls where once you could have got your hands on one of those pens that if you turned it upside down, the girl’s bikini disappeared!

Okay, maybe arcades were never that good, but oh how the shitey have fallen!

Nominated by: Chimp Licker