Kirstie Allsop [2]

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I do believe Kirstie Allsop is well over due a cunting of the highest magnitude.

Not only did this self serving cunt recently leave her kids in economy class whilst she got her face in the trough of business class, she has now smashed up their I Pads because they dared to go over screen time.

This cunt of a woman, who has never done a days work in her life and was born into wealth, seems to believe she has an opinion. Pity her opinion is not the same as ours in that she is a complete cunt.

Her sister got the share of the beauty, and Kirsty got the share of being a cunt. Out of the two I could happily toss Sophie Allsopp a pint of throat yoghurt, and happily toss Kisrty Allsopp a fucking hand grenade. But the di-gastric heffer would probably eat it with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

With her little sucky TV programmes about making things and her fuckwit partnership with that other cunt about buying homes, Kirsty Allsopp is the toffee nosed cunt of this week.

Nominated by Dry Itchy Cunt

Kirstie Allsop – now there is a cunt for the ages.

I have always detested this fucking specimen. The template for all sharp-elbowed, self-entitled middle-class parents everywhere – a bit like my own fucking sister dearest. Totally aloof to real life and convinced that she and she alone is the harbinger of the proper way of life, this cunt is Carnot/Rankin tier efficient at cyclically boiling the piss every time she appears.

The cunt think proper parenting is to smash up little Rupert and Hubert’s iPad. The little cherubs perhaps shouldn’t have been left to become so addicted to them in the first place; but nevertheless, taking such fucking idiotic action demonstrates i) Allsop’s limited capacity as a parent, and ii) the frivolity with money that shows how out of touch her and her ilk must be. The fact that she has flounced off Twitter due to anyone challenging her shit abilities as a mother says it all.

I caught Allsop on a few episodes of Question Time. It was the closest my TV had come to a terminal Lubbocking, clean up to the elbow. Kirstie Allsop – uppity shitcunt.

Nominated by The Empire Cunts Back

I see that her off ‘Location, Location, Location’ (or whatever it’s called) has incurred the wrath of the Twitterati for breaking up her kids’ iPads when they wouldn’t turn them off.
Now I wouldn’t care to comment one way or the other on this occasion with regard to Allsopp’s parenting skills. Couldn’t really give a fuck. What I will say however is that anyone calling her kids (get this) ‘Oscar Hercules’ and ‘Bay Atlas’ just has to be a cunt of massive dimensions.
‘Bay Atlas’! Wtf?

Nominated by Ron Knee

Jordan Stephens

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Jordan Stephens (who he?) is a wussy, up his arse, millennial snowflake cunt.

One half of cunty hip hop band Rizzle Kicks (me neither), Jordan also fancies himself an actor and, of course, an SJW, cos he’s just been on ‘Politics Live’ (ABBC replacement for Daily Politics) whinging about something he calls “toxic masculinity” and how “there needs to be something done about it”. As usual it’s all about him, his boundless me me narcissism, his snowflake inadequacies, all blamed on “the patriarchy”.

Shocking waste of airtime, barely fit for Loose Wimmin.

Jordan Peterson he is NOT.

Irritating twat should be sent back to Play School where he belongs.

Nominated by Ruff Tuff Creampuff

The Chequers Hokey Cokey

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On 24 June 2016, I felt true elation. The day before. 17.4 million Britons had played ‘x marks the spot’, and delivered a two-fingered salute to the European Union. We’re OUT. We’re throwing off the corrupt, stifling stranglehold of the EU, so kiss my ass Juncker, you pisshead cunt. ‘Brexit means Brexit’ said Mrs May.

Erm, two years on, and we’ve got ‘The Chequers Plan’, the government’s proposal for effecting our withdrawal from The Fourth Reich. Now I’ve tried to navigate my way through the detail, but I’ve become bogged down by some bureaucratic obfuscation. Terminology notwithstanding, I think I’m getting a handle on some of the essentials, and what I’m seeing is giving me the right hump.

Take the matter of immigration, a crucial issue during the referendum campaign. According to May, the Plan means an end to free movement as far as we’re concerned. Instead, we’ll get ‘reciprocal mobility arrangements’. Excuse me? Does it sound to you that we’d be taking back control of our borders as far as THAT bit of mumbo jumbo goes?

Then there’s the question of finance. We’re ponying up £30-40 billion as a divorce settlement, yet on top of this, we’ll be liable for shelling out further unspecified billions annually on the likes of EU aid programmes and ‘defence funding and co-ordination’, under ‘an association agreement’.

What about the all important question of law?. A ‘joint institutional framework’ is proposed, to facilitate UK-EU arrangements. But agreement on our part means that we’ll be subject to the EU’s ‘common rulebook’; in effect, rulings of the European Court of Justice will take precedence over those of UK courts.

As I see it, essentially the UK will still be subject to diktats from the Fuhrerbunker.
Our businesses will be forced to abide by EU regulations, and ECJ rulings will be binding on our citizens, while we will have no representation within EU institutions. We’ll be rule-takers, NOT rule-makers; out, but not REALLY…

I could go on, but I hope you’ve got my point. The EU wants to kick us to discourage others from following our lead, while getting its claws on as much of our cash as possible, all while pursuing its own dubious political dream of a ‘superstate’ run by the Brussels elite.
‘Brexit means Brexit’? Not on the basis of this fucking Judas sell-out. To quote Jacob Rees-Mogg, ‘Chequers is NOT Brexit’, and he’s bang on the money; it AIN’T what we voted for. No Mrs M, you can take your plan and fuck off over there. Then when you get there, you can fuck off again.

Meanwhile you folks, let’s all do the Chequers Hokey Cokey. We’re IN, no we’re OUT, in out in out shake it all about…

Nominated by Ron Knee

Manchester Students Union

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Sara Khan shows us how to clap without clapping

It made my piss boil when this bunch of cunts decided to erase Kiplings IF from a wall of their shit stained refectory building. Now these cunts have gone one stage further and are just so right on it’s laughable.

Rather than applaud something to show your appreciation or your enjoyment of something or now as (sadly) a mark of respect at a sporting event those right on cunts at Manchester university students union need to ensure that deaf people can also be included in this show of appreciation or mark of respect. Therefore you must now use jazz hands. (To me jazz hands was always the way you used your hands while perusing a ‘jazz mag’). But I was wrong just in case one of the 50000 deaf people out of 63,000,000 (50 thousand – 63 million) are in the arena you must use sign language or jazz hands to show your appreciation.

Fuck me where will this bull shit end.

Nominated by Cuntsince1066

“Like….”

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What is it about young women and the word ‘like’, like?
Yesterday I went to my favourite coffee shop for a brew of their excellent coffee and a croissant (pretentious, moi?).
Any road, it was pretty busy, and I ended up sitting next to two rather attractive young women. Nothing wrong with that in itself, of course, except that I then became a reluctant earwigger to their conversation, concerning a mutual friend. Apparently said friend had been out a couple of times for a drink with some bloke, so naturally to the female way of thinking, the two were now in what is deemed a ‘relationship’. The conversation went something along these lines, accompanied of course by an assortment of hand gestures and contorted facial gymnastics;
‘so like he said to her like, okay like, I’m like (blah)…’
‘no way! Like he said that, like?. That’s like wow (blab)…’
‘yah, and so now like she’s going to tell him like (burble)…’
Continue in similar vein for about ten minutes until one of them gets a call on her mobile, then it’s;
‘hold on, I’ve like gotta take this… hi! No, I’m like just having a coffee right now…’

At this point I quickly drained my cup and left, as I’d now had about all I could take of this. What on earth has made so many young women latch on to this abominable verbal tic? A cunt is what it is, like.

Nominated by Ron Knee