I got home the other day to find the wife in a swoon on the sofa. After administering smelling salts, she managed to tell me that she’d fainted away while listening to a song by somebody called Lyrica Anderson, which contained such unspeakable smut as ‘suck this pussy through these panties yeah, ah got a kitty shaved for you bae’. I had to put her to bed with a glass of warm milk, and she’s still in a state of considerable nervous agitation.

Sadly such vileness is a symptom of the degeneracy of modern society, along with mobile phones, drugs, trainers and fast food. I first became aware of this phenomenon back in the 80s, with Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s horrible ‘Relax’ *shudder*, and the likes of ‘relax, don’t do it, when you wanna come, but shoot it in the right direction’. Utterly appalling.

It’s nothing new of course. I mean, take this revolting example from the 40s;

You could be forgiven for thinking that smutty lyrics are a symptom of post war moral decline, along with teenage sex, teddy boys and rock n’ roll, but you’d be wrong. I mean, just have a listen to these examples from the 30s;

If this doesn’t make you want to vomit nothing will. This stuff’s been around since people began writing songs. We are lost in a stinking sewer of moral turpitude. If Mary Whitehouse was alive, she’d be turning in her grave.

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Nominated by Ron Knee.

The domestic footy season ended some weeks ago, and since then, the meeja has gone into its usual feeding frenzy regarding transfer speculation and rumours. Yes, the transfer window has been ‘thrown open’ once more.

It’s that time of the year for clubs to ‘weigh their options’, and consider ‘preparing a bid’ for the latest ‘ace’ from wherever. ‘War chests’ are ‘prised open’. Melchester Untied and Littleplop get into a ‘bidding war’ for South American teenage sensation Juan Orranutha, but he ‘snubs’ them to ‘push through his dream move’ to Spanish ‘giants’ Unreal Pimpleona.

Meanwhile Aston Bungalow is ‘monitoring the situation’ of Tittingham Hotspud’s Korean ‘misfit’ Whun Hung Lo, who’s been ‘frozen out’ at White Dogshite Lane. Lo has issued a ‘come and get me’ plea to the Midlands ‘powerhouse’, in an attempt to ‘end his Spuds nightmare’. Hotspuds fans are sending out ‘I’ll drive him there myself’ messages on soshull meeja.

Elsewhere, ‘minnows’ Cunthorpe United have issued a ‘hands off warning’ to Chuntsea regarding ‘wonderkid’ Mumbo N’jumbo, stating angrily that an offer from the Londoners was ‘derisory and insulting’. Chuntsea insists that it ‘won’t be held to ransom’ by the Cunts, but is aware that Muntchester City is ‘on red alert’ and ‘looking to hijack’ the deal.

And so it goes on. In spite of clubs ‘looking to get their business done early’, with talks being at a ‘preliminary’ or ‘advanced’ stage and bids ‘lodged’ or ‘tabled’, things will reach an ‘impasse’, or ‘break down’, or go ‘into limbo’. As deadline day approaches, there’ll be a scramble to ‘get deals over the line’. Players joining a new club will be ‘unveiled’ holding up a shirt or a scarf in front of the cameras, burbling on about how ‘it’s always been my ambition to join the club I supported as a kid’.

Then suddenly, the window ‘slams shut’, and won’t re-open until January, when clubs will once more attempt to ‘bolster’ their squads. Oh well, it all helps to keep footy fans occupied during the dog days of summer, when besides the cricket, golf, racing, tennis and the Olympics, there’s little else to offer by way of a sporting diversion.

The Sun.

Nominated by : Ron Knee

In the early days of ITV one of their biggest successes was the American comedy series “I Love Lucy” with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez. The lovely Lucy was in real life Mrs Arnez. What did she see in him?

It seems ITV, desperately short of comedic material hopes to have a 21st century success with another husband and wife pair of funsters – I Love Pixieballs” because (apparently – I don’t watch morning TV) Edward Balls was in the ludicrous position of “interviewing” his wife, the current Home Secretary about the riots. I can only assume it was a riot of laughter on the couch today – judging by the picture in this BBC piece it does look, indeed, as though Mini-Cooper has shit herself – at the very least she is touching cloth in her Junior Miss Pull-up pants:

bbcnews

Nominated by W. C. Boggs.

Steven is a Dutch Olympic volleyball player and is in the Dutch Olympic volleyball team.

Steven is also a convicted rapist. When he was 19 he raped a 12 year old girl. 3 times. He then returned to the Netherlands but was extradited back to the UK and pleaded guilty in 2016. He was sentenced to 4 years in prison.

When sentencing Steven, the judge said “Your hopes of representing your country as an Olympic athlete now lie as a shattered dream”. Plainly it is a career end for him.
He was then transferred to the Netherlands to serve out his sentence.

Here’s where things take a strange turn.
The sentence was adjusted in line with Dutch law, and the charge of rape was substituted for one referring of sexual acts that violate social-ethical norms.
Sounds like legalese doesn’t it?

After serving 13 months of his original four year sentence, he was released from prison.

Upon his release in 2017, Van de Velde complained about “the nonsense”
(n0n<ense?)
Reporting on his crime in the media Steven went on to claim that the term pdf file did not apply to him. Thus demonstrating zero remorse or regret for his actions.

Fast forward to 2024 and here he is representing his country in the Olympics.

So much for shattered dreams eh?

Getting away with it?

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MSN

Nominated by Harold.

Well, with the awards season starting, somebody had to be first to throw their hat into the ring for the Hazel Blears/Jacqui Smith Memorial Prize for “Expenses Misunderstandings” , and how appropriate it should be one of Kweer’s beloved Asians – Tulip Siqqiq – the (Funny) Business Minister. no less.

I am sure she is just the first in the runners and riders in the annual price for greed and hypocrisy.

The winner will receive a gold plated statue of a nude Lord Mandy with his grapes of wraths, done out in rhinestones dangling down from his well used arsehole, with the motto “It Was Just A Misunderstanding”

Of course it will be decided that Tulip did nothing wrong, and it was just pressure of work. Three weeks in the hotseat does that for you:

BBC News.

Nominated by : W. C. Boggs