Lutfar Rahman

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lutfur

Lutfar Rahman is the vote-rigging, extremist Muslim cunt that owns Tower Hamlets. The place is overrun with freeloading cunts that cannot speak English.

Flatten it and turn it into a car park. Cunts.

Nominated by: Miserable Cunt

Lutfar Rahman, the controversial mayor of Tower Hamlets, is to face a High Court trial over claims of electoral fraud. Four petitioners won their bid to expose Lutfur Rahman’s election victory to a full inquiry after allegations that voters were promised council houses if they voted for him.

They claimed Rahman’s team used a “variety of forms” of fraud when he won the mayoral ballot by 3,000 votes in May. Now the cunt is going to have to go to court and defend himself. Hopefully the court will see right through him and lock the cunt away where he belongs.

“I am completely confident that at the end of this process such claims will be exposed for the smears that they are” he said. Well, we say not just a cunt, but a crooked lying cunt to boot.

Nominated by: An Honest Muslim Cunt

Paedo Entertainers

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What makes me sick about these light entertainment paedo cunts is the ‘Mr Nice Guy’ personas they put on and everyone fell for….

In the 70s I remember my mum saying “He’s a good bloke that Jimmy Savile…. He works in kiddies hospitals for nothing…” To which my dad cynically (and rightly) replied: “Come off it! Nobody in this world does nothing for nothing… There must be some sort of pay off…” And how right the old fellah was… They all did it: Savile and his ‘Saint Jimmy’ image…

Stuart Hall, the laugh-a-minute Court Jester of BBC telly… And of course Rolf, with his wobbly board and his loveable eccentric act… One can imagine some poor kid grassing Harris up in the 70s or 80s and the response they got… “That Rolf Harris?! Impossible! He does all those silly songs and cartoon time for the kiddies… Not him, never… He’s too nice!”

Same goes for Jim’ll and his ‘endless charidee’ work and Hall with his madcap football commentary and his showbiz smarm… That is what is really disgusting about sickos…. Their nice guy and zany funster routines were an act and they knew it… They also knew what they were doing, they knew why they were doing it and they enjoyed it… Reveling in their own fame and getting their kicks at the same time…

Nonce scum…

Nominated by: Norman Whiteside

Douglas Murray

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Douglas Murray is a prize cunt…

Murray, who claims to be an author and ‘media commentator’ (ie: a gobshite!), had this to say on the Gaza related protest in London:

“London’s pro-Palestine rally was a disgusting anti-Semitic spectacle..”

What this Netanyahu shagging bellend failed to tell you is many Jewish people actually participated in the protest and are appalled by Israel’s actions in Gaza…

Fuck off, Murray! A media commentator (the twat gave himself that title!) who sticks up for child murderers… What a cunt!

Nominated by: Norman Whiteside

National Treasures

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A cunt by any other name…

I hope everyone realises that the rest of the nation plays ‘Is A Cunt’ but has a different name for it. Everyone else calls it “National Treasures”. Think of all the people routinely referred to as “national treasures” – Stephen Fry, Sandi Toksvig, Miranda Hart, Alan Titchmarsh, even Morrissey, for fuck’s sake.

CUNTS! CUNTS! CUNTS!

Nominated by: Fred West

Cliff Richard, “Sir” Elton John, Helen Mirren, Jeremy Clarkson and now that cunt who plays Sherlock (Jeremy Brett is ‘the’ Sherlock Holmes and Tom Baker is ‘the’ Dr. Who, so the BBC can fuck right off!).

Then of course there is there are the national treasures of the arsewipe tabloid press and the riff-raff who read them: The Beckhams, Katie “any which way you can” Price, Simon Cowell, Noel Gallagher (and his cunt of a brother), Peter Kay, Cheryl Cole, Wayne and Coleen Rooney…

The national treasure cunt quota in Britain is now massively high…

Nominated by: Norman Whiteside

The biggest cunt of a National Treasure of them all : Helen Mirren – a woman so far up her own arse she meets herself coming back the other way!

Nominated by: Dioclese

The Blackcountry

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Collier Pigeon Fanciers

Imagine a land of pigeon-fanciers, flat-caps, faggots (the pork variety) and mushy peas, long-closed coal mines and vanished heavy industry, where the locals speak in a strange dialect and with a peculiar accent. Imagine a place where the pubs still serve dark mild with their ready salted peanuts, and the locals have a sturdy, misplaced pride in the place of their birth.

But this isn’t Yorkshire or Tyneside, but the Blackcountry, a place where people don’t go to die, merely to disappear for good, where the streets are full of holes (and not just in the red light districts) and the weather is always shit. A place where no one really knows where it begins and where it ends (the “borders” of the Blackcountry are notoriously hard to define) and the only thing people around here do know is that we ay from Brum, and we hate brum, and we hate Brummies.

Imagine a place where the majority of folk are Labour voters but the main local evening newspaper is a Tory mouthpiece edited somewhere deep in the bowels of Tory central office. A place where the people are more defiantly English than anywhere else in England, but who the rest of England loves to take the piss out of. A land full of cloth cap cunt, to be blunt.

A place that ay Birmingham, but isn’t much else either.

Imagine a place called the Blackcountry, and pretend it doesn’t really exist.

Nominated by : Colin Murray’s Brain