Bad cyclists deserve a nomination. Those who do the following :

Don’t wear helmet.
Don’t have lights at night, of if they do, some tiny flickering pale green thing at the front and nothing at the back.
Don’t stop at lights, junctions, zebra crossings.
Don’t signal.
Weave in and out of traffic without looking.
Cycle on pavement and expect you to make way for them. I recently told some tosser to fuck off when he told me to get out of the way (had no lights on either, twat).
Yack on mobile phone, or even worse texting.

I no longer look out for cyclists at night. If they don’t have lights and I knock them over, then fuck them. I’ll sue them for damage to the car.

Also a nomination for grown men who ride on those stupid tiny stunt bikes. Usually some twentysomething twat with a straggly beard, tattoos and a beanie, whizzing down the road whilst standing on the pedals at a crazy angle. Get a bigger bike you tossers !!

Nominated by Mystic Maven

A jolly hockey sticks Radio 4 cunting please for the oldest teenager in the business, Polly Toynbee, 72 going on 12.

She has decided Saturday (19th Jan) will be REmain day for the following specious reasons:

https://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/1073725/Brexit-news-uk-eu-latest-brexit-deal-Polly-Toynbee-twitter

Have you ever read so many shit in your life?. The silly old cunt has outdone even Owen Jones.

The childish, inept, thick as pick shit, but thinks she is oh so clever old harridan needs to be careful – at her age she might conk out on the crapper straining to evacuate the caviar in her bowles, or she might have a nasty accident with the razor when shaving her rancid old minge. She could be dead before the rest of us.

Nominated by W C Boggs

Bugger me, just saw Vanessa Redrave on’t telly. Vanessa Who? Now a white haired querulous old bat but in my day the vibrant far lefty scourge orf capitalism and all its fiendish machinations against the proletariat. Fronted that ultimate right-on up its own marxist/maoist arse vehicle The Workers Revolutionary Party – and not many laughs allowed there I can assure you. For those orf you who have read, let alone remember, me reminiscences orf encounters with the ultra left in me producing days in the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s, this is both the oifit and the lady to whom Yours Truly, orn occasion, refers.

Scion orf the theatrical Redgrave dynasty, father the AC/DC “Bunburying” Sir Michael and mother Rachel Kempson (you can look her up yourselves but had to play away due to ah..artistic differences), she was born into wealth, prestige and stardom so naturally had to bite the hand that fed her. This included naked film roles (for the statement me dears), early Feminist battles, any anti-establishment demo going plus picket lines then a long career losing her deposit as the representative orf the WRP (see above) along with brother Corin and other members of their twisted inbred faction. Needless to say have had many encounters with The Lady and count YT as one orf the rare people ever to have made her laugh. Despite her height, a gently beauty and grace possessed – even when all steamed up as she often is – the bloodline will oit. Alas all bolloxed up by the virus, nay the pox, orf political extremism.

Her fire is still alive, but only just. Sad. Excuse Yours Truly while he sheds an old man’s tear for ancient battles, blood up and no prisoners and by the look of her me final battle won – but I take no pleasure in that.
The old filly (I know she should be “old mare” but noblesse oblige) has a new self directed filum oit to promote hence her ghost popping up in places unexpected . The flic is pure Vanessa, subject the dastardly migrant camps at Callis, (we use the spelling of Shakespeare in homage to her many classic stage roles and admit to being a pretentious old cunt) capitalist exploitation orf same and entitled “Sea Sorrow”. Ah yes, all poor Blighty’s fault, not the frogs. Her daughter Joli Richardson (nice tits, dodgy nose job) is in it.

Me artistic advice: if you have a free ticket worth a peek to have your cuntishness confirmed but otherwise if you have blood pressure like Yours Truly’s, avoid like Trotsky’s arse (aha the title for me next production!).

Nominated by Sir Limply

‘It takes all sorts to make a world’, the old saying goes, and generally I can relate to that. It’s just that sometimes, someone whose outlook is a bit, well, odd, intrudes on my consciousness and I start to wonder.

Let me introduce Riley (aka Justin) Dennis, a self-styled male to female transgender activist and feminist, who ‘identifies’ as a ‘non-binary woman’ and lesbian. Fair enough, it’s okay with me if that’s his/her/hem’s (whatever) choice. However it seems that s/he’s not content just to get on with things. S/he wants to dictate the terms upon which everyone else must relate to him/her/hem (oh ffs!). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2X-PgHSZh6U
Check out this example, in which s/he claims that dating ‘preferences’ can be discriminatory.

Now Riley’s discourse is a bit hard to follow, but I think the gist’s this; you’re discriminating if you won’t date a transgender person purely on the grounds that they’re trans, rather than on the basis of the qualities that they demonstrate as an individual. Got that? Well I’ll grant that there’s a certain logic to the argument, but in return, I must be granted the right to disagree.

Here’s the thing Riley. Stop obsessively over-analysing everything when it’s very simple. I don’t give a fuck how you and those like you live your lives, or what you identify as. In return, stop spouting more ‘identity politics’ b/s. Give it a rest, and stop trying to project your hang-ups onto everyone else.

Society hasn’t somehow conditioned me over the years to develop an unconscious bias towards you. It’s not discriminatory behaviour because I won’t buy into your agenda and acknowledge this supposed ‘bias’. Think about this the other way around. I can like a transgender person on the basis of their qualities as an  individual, without being physically attracted to that person. I like a woman to have a fanny in her pants as opposed to a dick. That doesn’t make me ‘transphobic’; it means that I don’t fancy you. It really is about preference; it’s my choice, just as it’s yours to wear a dress. If I may paraphrase the old ‘Stonewall’ ad; ‘most people are straight. Get over it’.

Nominated by Ron Knee

Bubbles. Oh, there is a Cuntbubble on here. But we all live in bubbles don’t we cunters. When you think about it. Groupthink. That idea?

The most suffocating bubble is of course the cult bubble. Scientology say where people are coerced or brainwashed into thinking what the group believes. The bubble. The metaphor actually fits perfectly because you can see the person in the bubble (it’s transparent) but you cannot communicate with them.

Are YOU in a bubble? Is it wrapped around your brain? Are you allowed to speak? Not even a squeak? Are you all singing from the same hymn sheet? Yes bubbles from the Holy Book. Remember the non-conformist conscience? They all rejected ‘strong drink’. ‘Bubbly’ come to think. So they ‘conformed’ in that sense. More a party line than a bubble.

The modern atheist bubble A horrible bubble this. Emits a hiss. They don’t know how they came to exist. Witness ‘Hitch’. Trolls on the internet. ‘Bubbles’ by Millais. A work of art turned into an advert.

CAPITALISM. The capitalist bubble mutates into little economic bubbles. Popping up all the time. So destructive. In fact you could argue that the biggest bubble in the world is the capitalist one. Suffocating the world.

‘Bubbles’ Michael Jackson’s chimp. Like a nightmarish imp. Presented to Japanese dignitaries….as though.. from the Evolutionary bubble. The Modern Art bubble. Fucking Horribubble. Full of pride, insolence, impudence. Terrible to live in a bubble reader-to know EXACTLY 100% what’s coming next, to always know, to always get, the talk you expect. Like the Thought Police in your head. The Psychobabble bubble. Babbling big words. Self  actualization. What does it actually mean? Infantile babbling has truly more meaning. They are attempting to communicate at least.

Bubble wrap. Protects the contents of the box. But you’ve got to think outside the box. To get outside of your bubble. So a paradox. Bubblegum. You must keep shtum. Keep your mouth shut (in the bubble). Keep your gob shut. Like a gobstopper in your mouth. Stopping your mouth. From fear. Like in North Korea. Like ‘Kim’. The bubble is him. Like Buzz Light year. A bubble round his head. A bubblehead. Atop his bulbous neck. Above his people. And yes the Trump bubble. And the Nuclear bomb. And if both bubbles collide one huge blast and the world will be gone. There’ll be a bubble bath. If you’ll excuse the pun.

You know cunters the Nuclear Family has been blown to bits. By the Materialist bubble. Like a wrecking ball or wrecking bubble. And the main reason why millennials climb into bubbles. To feel less troubled.

Religious bubbles. The Islamic bubble so dynamic-‘it can go anywhere because it came from nowhere’. But careers around bumping into other bubbles. The Buddhist bubble. A huge big one this. And very old. Squatting over great swathes of Asia. Eternally hanging around. I am in the Catholic bubble I readily admit. We all live in a bubble of belief.

Nominated by Miles Plastic