Shelby Judge….a student of the bullshit subject of “Feminist Issues”.

She and her husband (yep, she actually has one) took a tour of Stirling castle. Whilst in the gift shop, she found something that offended her immensely. A “Mr Man” book, in which Mr Clever committed the cardinal sin of ‘mansplaining’ the reason that the River Forth was so named to one of the “Little Misses”. Holy fucking shit on a burning stick. She was so outraged, she ran straight to The Sun newspaper to complain.

There was no mention in the article as to whether Stirling castle bent the knee to this whingeing cow, but I’m really hoping they told her to fuck off and grow up. How is it that a man can no longer innocently explain something to a woman? Even if we’re asked to explain something, we automatically become guilty of that heinous patriarchal crime of mansplaining. It’s about time we started standing up to these douchebags, because THEY are now the sexists. For decades, feminists were all out for equality. Well, now they have it. But that’s not enough for the twisted misandrists who call themselves feminists today. They want superiority. We cannot let them have it.

It must be so nice to live a life that your only real problem is the allegedly sexist content of a fucking children’s book.

Nominated by Quick Draw McGraw

Nice biscuits with hairline cracks in. And or the fucking retards whose only job is to get them from the factory to the customer in one piece, not two pieces barely held together with sugar until they are wet.

Nice biscuits are an absolute nightmare if they break mid-dunk. There is barely two or three seconds before all the structural integrity of the broken off bit is gone and the last inch of your brew is fully buggered.

I appreciate this is a bit of a first-world cunting, but a brews a brew and two failed dunks in a week suggest a careless cunt at some stage between manufacture and my careful lifting and placing in a shopping trolley.

Nominated by GGRF

a bah humbug nomination of Christmas presents.

My knee hurts, my back aches I have worked up a mild sweat on the carpet, what have I been doing, well not what you think.
Wrapping Christmas presents! various shapes and sizes, fucking round with sellotape and ridiculous wraps that are akin to sellotape and sellotape does not stick too.
well on the first round (yesterday) Mrs B suggested a little seasonal music as we went about the jolly chore ( She sits and I wrap) however I think its bad taste to stab people at Christmas with siccors so I declined.
I did however stick to last years promise which is quite simple, If it is not square or rectangular you can wrap it! so as you can imagine there was a little tension there (You haven’t eaten you’re grumpy ect).
Well as far as I know the deed is done, Next months bin fillers are nicely wrapped.

https://youtu.be/vfH_WFxpdKM

Fuck that till next year.

Nominated by Lord benny

Most of the unskilled Euro and third world enrichment influx around my way seem to converse at a speech volume that resembles your average Tourettes sufferer walking around Sainsbury’s.

It seems that the education systems that mould these people never saw fit in their 10 years of educating them to teach some basic standards of behaviour, namely manners and vocal control. I learnt not to shout as soon as I could talk. Many non-UK nationals have still not learnt this as adults!

So, rather than talking at a polite and civilised volume, these cultural enrichers seem to converse by shouting, even when feet apart from the person they’re talking to.

I have a foreign crew near me and they literally shout when they’re talking to such a degree that it sounds like a fight or heated auction bid up over some camels every time they open their mouths. It’s like living next to the crazy frog with a megaphone strapped to it’s mouth with all the: ‘Da ding da da ding ding, da ding ding, da, da diiing ding’ etc..

Yet I shouldn’t think they even know the sound of my voice as I speak at UK DB levels and can’t be heard past five feet away. Cunts!

I could invest in earplugs, but I’d rather the Gov invested in controlling unskilled immigration to the UK. How many more doctors and surgeons do we need manning car washes and selling cars? Thirteen more arrived on a dinghy yesterday. Thank Christ for that though, as my car’s filthy and the doctors surgery is always fully booked.

Nominated by Cuntry Cunt

An end of year, seasonal cunting for bon viveur, gastronome, food snob and all round annoying tosspot luvvie… Layyydeeezz an’ Gennnerrrmenn, I give you all round arrogant CUNT, Jay Rayner.

What has blubber-the-gut done that has got The Sheikh so steamed up?

Notwithstanding that this festering pile of superiority is, surprise fucking surprise an EU remainer, keen to be ruled by an unelected hostile foreign elite which makes him a Grade-A vulval area on it’s own, read below for why he’s up there with so many other utter cunts whose “celebrity” and self-importance we have thrust in our faces:

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-7754691/Jay-Rayner-Mum-Claires-ashes-West-End-show.html

Here’s a question for you fellow cunters. Would you want to eat in a restaurant contaminated with human ashes? No? There’s a fucking surprise. Yet the straggly bearded arsewipe has scattered/secreted his parents ASHES at some of the UK’s most prestigious places, for example, at the posh restaurant for wealthy up-their-own-arses, more-money-than-sense, celeb cunts, The Ivy.

Now I don’t know about you, although considering where certain contributors would stick their tongues, the thought of inhaling a lungful of desiccated, decarbonised, Claire Rayner dust while sitting down to an overpriced microscopic meal served on anything but a fucking plate, doesn’t exactly appeal. More to the point, as this stupid arrogant Cunt of the Century has admitted contaminating said restaurant with human remains, surely he has committed an offence AND affected the hygiene standard of The Ivy and other venues contaminated with his parents’ human remains.

Contact Westminster Council and complain about Rayner deliberately contaminating public places.

The odious straggly bearded slug lauds this as a “celebration”, while metropolitan Islington cunts comment of this “lovely gesture”. I wonder how “lovely” they’d find it if he scattered human remains in THEIR homes, all over the floors and kitchen seats.

The worst bit is the high-handed hypocrisy of the arrogant, self-important fuckwit. I mean, what actually does he DO apart from eat and complain? This is the hallmark of a truly decadent society when some fat tub of lard is “famous” for eating lunch. This cunt adds nothing to society, apart from his being an arrogant, pompous cunt. If I had my way, I’d have him dipped in beaten egg, 20kg of garlic/parsley butter rammed up his arse, rolled in his parents remaining ashes and turned on a spit, RAYNER KIEV a la mode, served on a bed of rocket (fuel) and garnished with remainer tears.

He is a cunt, his mother was an annoying busybody and hopefully he will fuck off into the great void, but not before being PROSECUTED for contaminating a public eating place. Anyone who doesn’t agree is a cunt, because I, the Imam of All Cunts, decrees it.

Nominated by Sheikh Anvakh