I nominate Spring, Summer and Autumn for a serious cunting.
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not the actual seasons as years ago they were pleasant variances in the annual weather cycle…… Until a few years ago and getting WORSE, the advent of a multitude of “professional gardeners” who charge a fortune to walk around in noise-cancelling headphones while they noise up the local environment, every fucking minute of the fucking day going house to house with the fucking petrol mower droning on and on and on and on and on, a sound that penetrates every nook and cranny.
But FAR WORSE are those fucking cunt LEAF BLOWERS that said “gardener” spends an hour moving stuff from a to d to c and back to a, giving the illusion of doing something, while the incessant staccato vroom, vroooooom, VROOOOM from these acursed Satanic creations is even worse than the constant down of the fucking mower. USE A BROOM YOU CUNTS.
If there was ever a case for legalising Kalashnikovs, this is it, and the more affluent the area the worse it is, with often two or three of the cunts inflicting this sonic Chinese water torture on us.
There is no escape, and this is one time where the curse of profound deafness must become a blessing.
At the moment there is a pair of cunts going from house to house behind where I’m working, FOUR HOURS of this incessant droning is driving me fucking barmy that spoils every day, and this is only day one of the “gardening season”. Roll on December. CUNTS.
Nominated by Sheikh Anvakh