I am a huge fan of the humble Brussels sprout. It is fitting that the most well known Belgian is a vegetable.

Mrs Twenty knows how to prepare the perfect sprout to accompany Christmas dinner, still firm and very slightly crisp. Nothing finer, the absolute king of greens. However, I have been to more than a few festive repasts where the hostesses have seen fit to embellish the noble sprout with a honey glaze, mix them with chestnuts, or even individually wrap them in bacon. Who fucking does that?

I can sort of understand Americans messing up their veg, we expect nothing else. Martha Stewart probably started this shit when she had nothing better to do in clink. But now everyone is at it, even the cunt with the huge tongue.

Please, please, can we have a return to sanity and restore the simple sprout its dignity?

The Recipe Critic.com

Seasons Greetings.

Nominated by : Twenty Thousand Cunts Under the Sea

As a special bonus Christmas gift, heeeeeeere’s Greta!

UK police arrest Greta the mood hoover! (our favourite little girl)

DW.com

“British police have arrested climate activist Greta Thunberg during a pro-Palestinian protest in central London. The detention, under terrorism legislation, was linked to a placard referencing a banned group”

Darling Greta has been working with “Defend Our Juries” a group of foreign funded cunts who hope to undermine western democracy (although they don’t realise it)

https://defendourjuries.net/

So hopefully Young Greta gets to spend Christmas being raped with a shampoo bottle in Holloway by a big dyke!

Christmas has come early 😉

Nominated by : Lord benny

In times past, the festive chart topper was a part of the tapestry that was the Great British Christmas. The Beatles had at least four Christmas No.1s. Then there was, of course, Slade. With a real record that people actually bought in their millions.

Some of them were good. But some have been awful (Long Haired Lover From Liverpool, Save Your Love, There’s No One Quite Like Grandma, Sir Clfford of Richard). While some were totally unexpected and bizarre (Bohemian Rhapsody, Another Brick In The Wall Part II).But, it was always part of the fun and all that.

But now? The bad has taken over permanently. That weirdo cunt Cowell started it with his X-Factor shite. Cynically and ruthlessly pursuing the festive top spot every bloody year. And, naturally, the stupid and tone deaf chav hordes lapped it up.

Not to mention crap like Ladbaby (for the name alone, they deserve to roast in Hell), the unfortunately ubiquitous Ed Sheercunt, and even a poofy old Wham! single can get to the top of the Xmas summit without a single record or CD being sold. The singles chart is now worthless, and as crass and as vulgar as everything else these days.

However, things could reach a new low this year. Worse than Sheercunt, and even worse than Cowell’s freaks and bastard Ladbaby. But… But what could be worse than those cunts?

I shall tell you…. Denise Welch.

The infamous (very) Loose Women ‘star’ and well known super bike is aiming for the Christmas No.1 this year. No, I am not joking.

Ye Auld Slappeur has done an ear splitting ditty called ‘Slayyy Bells’. OK, that Carey woman is annoying at this time of year, but at least she was (notice I said was) nice to look at. But this old trollop? Is Denise Welch in red rubber supposed to be sexy? She’s about as sexy as Angela Rayner on a bad night.

As I mentioned, it was always a mix of the good, the bad and the ugly. But, this is what it has come to. This is the modern British Christmas in all its crass, tasteless and vomit inducing glory.

Official Charts.

Nominated by : Norman

Wishing all our Cunters a safe, peaceful, fun and enjoyable Christmas.

From all of us at Admin Mansions

“Good afternoon. This is IsAC’s media correspondent Ron Knee reporting. As the great Jane Austen puts it, ‘it is a truth universally acknowledged that a z-list celebrity in possession of a tv show must be in want of an audience’. Never was this truer than in the case of perennial IsAC favourite Meghan, Duchess of Nutfux.

Now we can all agree that Markle has the personality of a coffin, is about as likeable as a dog turd, and as authentic as a nine bob note. But I’ll grant her one thing. She doesn’t lack persistence, even when it’s clearly the persistence of the increasingly desperate. This leads me to her latest effort, her seasonal special ‘With Love, Megan; Holiday Celebration’, which I’ve watched to spare fellow cunters the grief. You can thank me later.

So what’s this all about? Well, our delightful duchess has had a couple of ‘seasons’ with a sort of lifestyle guru show called ‘With Love, Meghan’. You know the drill. .It’s pretentiously billed as (get this) ‘a blend of how to’s and candid conversations with friends new and old. Meghan shares tips and tricks, and highlights how easy it can be to create beauty, even in the unexpected’ burble blah. Filming for the two ‘seasons’ took place in Spring of 2024, with the ‘special’ being tagged on as a sort of afterthought at the end, so it’s been on the shelf for a while.

Unsurprisingly the series bombed in the ratings, and the ‘special’ shares all the same problems which caused the failure. It’s biggest drawback is an utter lack of authenticity. It’s setting is domestic, kitchen and garden, and it’s implied that it’s in the Snarkles’ own house in Monteshitshow. Except that it’s not. It’s a rented property nearby. Then you’ve got the d-list guests who turn up in the show ( no Oprahs or Taylor Swifts), desperately awkward as they try to look as though they’re Markle’s buddies for the camera, or even that they give a fuck for anything other than the cheque they’ll collect to compensate for the embarrassment.

Worse is Markle’s utter tone deafness, as trills in that smarmy voice how the time of year is all about ‘the importance of family, finding time to connect to the people we love’. Yeah, like the father, brother, sister, first husband, and all the ‘friends’ she’s dumped as she social mountaineers her way upwards, not to mention her husband’s family of course. It’s all syrupy platitudes about ‘warmth and luuurve’, Meghan style.

Could things get any worse? Well yes. As the ‘special’ unfolds, we sink into a sea of banality as Megsie (and guests) lift the lid on the previously utterly unfathomable mysteries of Xmastime preparation, such as how to put the lights on your tree, and wrap a gift, and prepare a fucking salad (duh!). She even tells us how to season a turkey with er, salt and pepper, and manages to fuck even this up in the process by keeping her jewellery on, earning the disparaging nickname ‘Salmonella Sussex’ in the meeja. The final cringe comes when, in a flailing attempt to add a bit of panache, Harry turns up (‘I smell gumbo!’) and bizarrely, Migraine thanks him for coming, emphasising again that they’re not actually in their own house.

So to summarise; it’s as though someone in the production team has deliberately gone out of their way to make this effort as inauthentic, insincere and uninspiring as possible; a ratings car crash to give Nutfux the excuse they need to discontinue future funding of ‘With Love, Meghan’. And honestly, it’s so trite and contrived that it doesn’t even constitute a good hate watch, merely a guaranteed cure for insomnia.

I’ll leave the final judgement to that doyen of newspapers, our very own ‘Groaniad’, whose critic flamed it thus; ‘she’s back! Take as many anti-emetics as medically advisable, then assume the crash position’. Er, thanks Meghan, don’t call us, we’ll call you. This is Ron Knee, for IsAC, returning you to the studio”

YouTube.

Nominated by : Ron Knee