Where sport is concerned, it’s basically football in the winter and cricket in the summer for me. I was recently invited to a rugby match, and it seemed impolite to refuse, although with hindsight I wish that I’d contrived an excuse.

I find it difficult to know what attracts people to such a sprawling, incomprehensible mess of a game. Two teams of grunting, hairy arsed types face off against each other, using a ‘ball’ that’s not a ball but an oval, which contrives to bounce and roll about the pitch in ridiculous fashion. One team tries to hurl and punt this artifact about. The other tries to stop them by grabbing the opposing player with the ‘ball’ and wrestling him to the ground, then piling in on top of him.

The flow is constantly interrupted by the ref’s whistle as a consequence of some obscure infringement or other. Players take an interminable amount of time to line up on the touchline, just to get the ball back into play. Then there’s the truly bizarre spectacle known as ‘the scrum’. Players go into a squashed huddle which takes forever to organise. This then proceeds to squirm across the pitch like a giant crab until somebody chucks the ‘ball’ in, at which point it collapses ignominiously into a heap.

After 80 minutes of this grinding guff, played in an incessant drizzle, the players trooped off a swamp, steaming and caked from head to foot in mud. One or two looked more than a little dazed and confused. I’d say that anyone playing this game for any length of time could literally end up needing his head tested.

In the bar afterwards (downing a welcome scotch and soda) I was asked what I thought of the game by one of the club members. I mumbled some platitudes before admitting that basically, I was more of a football man. ‘Ah yes, football’, came the slightly condescending reply. ‘A game for fannies in my opinion. Rugby, that’s a REAL man’s game’.

Well if you can’t beat ’em. Get the round in and altogether now; ‘Mary from the mountain glen, fucked herself with a fountain pen…’. Rugby. It’s a game played by cunts with odd shaped balls.

Nominated by Ron Knee

Body piercings are cunts. I can tolerate ear piercings, even though I don’t understand why people would want to stick those things in their ears, but body piercings just look hideous.

Nose rings look awful, as do other facial piercings, belly button piercings and tongue piercings are especially disgusting but the absolute worst ones are when some people choose, of their own volition and free will, to have that flap of skin between the roof of the mouth and the upper set of teeth pierced. WHY?! Why would you want to have a bit of metal in your mouth outside of tooth fillings?

Like all body piercings it’s utterly disgusting! To borrow a phrase from an esteemed cunter, fuck them.

Nominated by OpinionatedCunt

Gareth Thomas or Alfie as he is known. Has turned out a cunt. Who he? Well he was a decent Welsh rugby player a few years back. As his career began to decline, as all sports careers inevitably do, he came out as gay. Fine, probably brave of him but otherwise ‘nothing to see here’
However, this week he is all over the mejia as victim of hate crime. In Cardiff, that well known bastion of right-on, trendy, all-inclusive thick Welsh cunts.. It seems a 16 year old half wit abused him. He is 6ft 2 n and built like a brick shithouse. For fucks sake. Get a fucking grip. Twat the silly cunt and move on. You are not a fucking victim Gareth. Show some fucking dignity and get over it.

Nominated by Cuntstable Cuntbubble

To; Angela Merkel
Chancellorfuhrer of The Fourth Reich
The Bunker
Berlin

Dearest Mutti,

I’m pleased to learn that you are not intending to seek re-election as Secretary-general to the Christian Democratic Union, although you intend to carry on as Chancellor of Germany until 2021.

In 1914 and again in 1939, your country sought supremacy in Europe through force of arms and failed both times, at enormous cost to those opposing you. The CDU has now governed Germany for thirteen years, and it is my belief that during your time as Chancellor, you and your puppets in Brussels have worked assiduously to establish German political and economic hegemony through the domination of the EU and its institutions.

You were well on your way to realising your dream until ironically, your own contentious policies turned around and bit you on your fat arse. Your so-called Euro ‘rescue’ policies have caused huge economic and social dislocation across the continent. Meanwhile your disastrous ‘open door’ policy in 2015 allowed over a million ‘refugees’ to pour in against a background of cuts in welfare provision, causing a huge backlash both domestically and throughout Europe.

Your national coalition managed to cling on to power in 2017, but woeful results in 2018 state elections have further reduced your credibility. Let’s face it Mutti, your chances of hanging on until 2021 are slim indeed. You’ll go with your cherished EU project unfinished. The EU does not have financial integration. The idea of an EU army is a dream, and the Euro is an unmitigated disaster which has wrecked havoc across a number of countries. The cracks grow wider. No doubt you’ll do your best to fuck us over where Brexit’s concerned, but the natives everywhere grow increasingly restless, and all the while your creature ‘Fun Boy’ Juncker and his cronies cling to the cherished belief that the answer to every problem is ‘more Europe’.

Enoch Powell once said that all political careers end in failure, and it seems that yours, dear Mutti, is also destined to do just that. You’ve learned the hard way that people don’t like uncontrolled migration, and they don’t like being told repeatedly that someone in Berlin or Brussels knows better than they do what’s good for them. You’re a busted flush, a dead woman walking, a lame duck with a crumbling legacy. It can’t go on much longer.

Auf wiedersehen pet, or as they put it more bluntly in the land of my good lady’s birth, ‘awa’ hame an’ throw shite at yersel’.

Yours,

Ron Knee