Royal Mail

Posted on October 4, 2015 by A Cunt Who Cunts Cunts

I’m nominating the Royal Mail. In particular I’m nominating my new postman. Until two years ago, I had a great postman. He had Asperger Syndrome, but he was brilliant. He delivered the mail in good time every day, and it was in excellent condition. Then he was replaced by a female postie. She was pretty decent at the job. Not as good as her predecessor, but she did a good job.

Two weeks ago, she was replaced by a new postie. And he’s a cunt. Sometimes the mail arrives in the morning, sometimes it arrives at midday, sometimes in the early afternoon. Twice so far, it’s turned up at 6pm. After a recent downpour, I came home to find TWO letters, that were so wet, they fell apart when I tried to open them. I may have mentioned that I’m archer. On Monday, I ordered a piece of equipment called a bow square. It’s basically a ruler, and is used for various measurements. Anyway, my bow square arrived today. Shoved through the letterbox with such force, the dumb cunt bent it.

I collared the twat, only to be given a shrug of his apelike shoulders, and the mumbled words, ‘I’m just doing me job mate”. Well no, fuckwit, you’re not ‘just doing your job”, because you’re job is not simply to put letters and parcels through letterboxes, it’s also to ensure that the mail you deliver is the same GOOD FUCKING CONDITION that it was despatched in.

I went to this numbnuts’ sorting office and complained to the manager, who made it clear he couldn’t give a fuck. So now I’m taking it further. The Royal Mail is SHITE. I used to be against privatisation. Now I look forward to the day when we can choose which postal service we use. Because if the Royal Mail can’t even be bothered to look after the letters and parcels that we place in their ‘care’, then they don’t deserve a monopoly.

Incidentally, one of the two letters was regarding a hospital appointment, and the other contained my car insurance docs. I had to phone the fucking hospital to find out when my appointment was, and I’ve had to ask Aviva to send my copies of the documents. If this shite ‘service’ continues, I’m afraid I’m going to be punching this fucker’s lights out.

Nominated by: Quick Draw McGraw

Dead Pool 24

Posted on October 3, 2015 by All Seeing Eye

* * * * WE HAVE A WINNER! * * * *

Congratulations to Fred West who correctly predicted the demise of uber-cunt Denis Healey. So well played, Fred. An autographed copy of Burt Bacharach’s wonderful “Living Together” album is yours to pick up at the Reception desk.

So the slate has been wiped clean and everyone gets to pick a new ‘dead cunt walking’ as we move on to The Dead Pool 24.

Here’s the rules :

1. Nominate who you think is next on the way out.
You can have a maximum of five cunts each. Leave names in the Comments.

2. You win if your Cunt dies first.
Then the slate is wiped clean and we start again. Of course, you can always be a cunt and steal someone else’s dead cunt candidate from the last Dead Pool.

Any cunt who tries to cheat by nominating the World’s Oldest Man or Woman is a cunt and will be ignored. Any anonymous cunt who can’t be bothered to make up a name for themselves will also be ignored. Oh, and the usual “Our Blog Our Rules” thing applies.

Corrie

Posted on October 3, 2015 by A Cunt Who Cunts Cunts

Coronation Street deserves a good cunting.

Once a good show (about 40 years ago!) with endearing and interesting characters, it is now an all-out cuntfest. The stories are ludicrous: there’s a murder every other month, everybody has shagged everyone else, and it’s more like Ancient Rome than a Salford Street. The characters are also complete cunts. Tracy fucking Barlow has a body count bigger than Jack The Ripper (and she gets away with it every time!), Steve MacDonald is like a crap Stan Laurel (only he’s not funny!), that skinny drug dealer Callum is supposed to be scary (when he’s about as scary as Fingermouse!), her with the massive head playing 15 year old jailbait when it’s obvious she’s about 20 years old… Not to mention that little cunt with the curly hair who’s turned into a child psycho, Sally Webster is still a total cunt, Les Dennis (of all people) brought in for a ridiculous storyline (an impostor posing as his son as a joke, then his real son dies), Whining Gail still has no chin, that Scouse cunt, Craig Charles, former devil-child David Platt has turned into Cliff Richard. The list goes on…

I’ve noticed that McGuinness cunt is now in Coronation Street.

I watched an episode with my Mrs for the first time in ages the other day and I must say it has fallen so far below its 1970s heyday. A ludicrous story where a bunch of morons go camping in a field and meet McGuinnes playing something like a working class Bear Grylls (another cunt). Totally pointless, badly acted and just a way to get Paddy McGuinness time in the show. Utter bollocks…

Bring back Minnie Caldwell and Albert Tatlock.

I’d shag that Carla Connor though….

Nominated by: Norman

Management speak

Posted on October 2, 2015 by A Cunt Who Cunts Cunts

Management speak is hereby nominated for a good Cunting……

Before I saw the light it had been my great misfortune to be at some management meetings; fuck knows how I got roped in, made to wear a collar and tie, talk about a duck out of water.

Anyhoo. I thought senility had set in when I couldn’t follow some of the tossers. I understood all the words, but I’ll be fucked if I knew what they were on about. I give you some of the those that make the old eyelid twitch and the fingers long to be holding a cunting stick. Best grade one Cunting sticks are usually made from ash and are normally supplied with an optional attachment called a pick at the business end.

Prime examples of fucktard speak:

ballpark figure – Never wanted to own a ball park.
mission critical – Is it about to explode?
think outside the box- Not if you’re an opening bat facing Big Bird you don’t.
blue-sky thinking – Where I’d rather be than here.
there is no ‘I’ in team – *Mutter* “But there is in TIT!” (Which is why I don’t need to attend management meetings any more).
take it to the next level – Which apparently is not an invitation to engage in fisticuffs. (Ditto above).
put the toothpaste back in the tube – Which resulted in coffee snot and a one way ticket back to my lurry cab (showing my age there) and my card marked: ‘attitude issues’.

I’m sorry management I only speak English and a colloquial variant of Anglo Saxon at the best of times, you fuck-pig Cunts!

Nominated by: King Cnut

Censoring the telly

Posted on October 1, 2015 by A Cunt Who Cunts Cunts

Telly is getting censored all over the place. I saw a repeat of Steptoe & Son last week, and the line where Albert says about the bed salesman ‘He’s a poof!’ was cut out. Yet they let Kanye West say ‘Nigger’ about 150 times on the BBC.

Now The Simpsons? It’s getting absurd. There would be nothing left of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Till Death Us Do Part and Spitting Image if they were repeated today. BBC2 are supposed to put on a ‘classic comedy’ every afternoon but now they have exhausted their Frank Spencer repeats, this basically means endless repeats of Allo Allo (only worth watching if Yvette is in her undies).

The BBC won’t repeat It Ain’t Half Hot Mum: because of old Shutup calling his men poofs, and references to damn natives and char wallahs yet that Goodness Gracious Me shite is more disrespectful to Indians. I know a Sikh family and they hate Sanjeev Bhaskar, Meera Syal and those other cunts yet they love It Ain’t Half Hot Mum, because they’ve got the brains to know it takes the piss out of colonialism and British upper class in India.

Nominated by : Norman