i.e. you’re walking along at the general pace and then the cunt immediately in front of you just stops (and usually to update a TwatBook status or something equally important)!

Colour me simple, colour me stupid, but – as I would in a car – if I wanted to check something or whatever I’d walk to the side of the walkway/aisle/etc. before stopping but no that’s too much effort with the hipster generation (useless, self absorbed, remoaning cunts).

However “stoppers” be warned, your nemesis the “absent minded buggy riders” are also out in force. These cunts swan about on the free buggies provided by large shops and shopping centres, and – because a lot of the users aren’t actually proper raspberries, just lazy twats – they have no idea how to control them, nor the concept of “looking where they’re driving”.

Yes “stoppers” you halt your ass immediately in front of an “absent minded buggy rider” and enjoy the seething pain as one, if not both, achilles tendons are whacked into by the ‘safety’ bumper (as a “peaceful stopper”, decked out in the full ayatollah gear, found to his cost in The Centre MK – I laughed at the cunt as he went down like a bag of spanners).

Nominated by: Rebel without a Cunt!

Now, I like to think I’m pretty tolerant of different cultures and their festivals, but not at my expense or should I say the dogs, but it does affect me, because of said dog.
Allow me to explain, as I’m writing this the fucking cunting fireworks have started, to be totally honest, they started at 4pm. Fucking 4pm, it was still daylight, what’s the fucking point of that?

It’s just normal fucking fireworks either, up to now we’ve had the pretty ‘Ooh and Ahh ones, fine with them, but shorty after came those fucking cunting ones that shake the ground like fucking land mines and bangers! It’s like Syria out there!
I just happened to let the dog out when some daft cunt decided let the line mine one off, the dog, mid piss, ran back into the house, still pissing, with the other half running behind him with a mop.

He tried to get behind the TV but thankfully the kids stopped him.

The other half has found a special bravery jacket, with accompanying CD and a plug-in for him, to the tune of a mere 70 odd fucking quid. I ain’t happy!

When I was a kid, they still had Doolaly, but without the fucking onslaught of cunting fireworks. Fireworks are for one day, fucking bonfire night (and New Years Eve, I’m not a total miserable cunt).

P.s
I’m now in the front room, with the bloody great dog, sitting on my knee. I’ve have to barricade parts of my front room, so he don’t knock the TV over and other items I can’t be arsed to replace this side of Christmas.

Coupled with the fucking clocks going back and actual Doolaly day tomorrow, the fucking onslaught is going to happen a lot earlier.

I really don’t mind my house looking like something from the French Revolution and the telly on full pelt and a quivering mess of a dog for one day, but this is going to go on for the next few days, weeks even and it’s fucking Halloween Monday too, so going have to screw my letterbox shut,in case some little fucking chav kid thinks it’s a good idea to shove a fucking firework though the letterbox!

Nominated by: Cuntybollocks