This afternoon I was in the queue at our local supermarket. I was unfortunate to be immediately behind one of those insufferable chav cunts who wears a baseball cap back to front, has an ear ring in both ears, and ‘sags’ his jeans to show that he’s wearing Clavin Klein branded ‘trunks’ (almost certainly a knock-off I reckon).
Yes you’ve got it; a real style icon, this one. It’s nailed on that he refers to his girlfriend as ‘babe’. Definitely a twat; however I became truly fascinated by the depths of his cuntitude as he began unloading the contents of his basket onto the belt.
Here we go; a copy of the ‘Daily Star’, a pack of pickled onion ‘Monster Munch’, a bag of frozen oven chips, a ‘Hunger Breaks’ breakfast (for the uninitiated, a can containing beans, sausages, mushrooms, cereal, chopped pork, egg and a bacon burger, in tomato sauce ffs), a pot noodle, a bottle of cider, and some of the store’s own-brand ‘super saver’ bog rolls.
Bloody hell, what a woeful state of affairs. A truly sad cunt with what is without doubt, the most tragic shopping basket ever seen. It’s almost as though evolution had shaped the latter as a natural extension of the former.
There’s no substitute for style, and this plank was no substitute. The buyer and his shopping basket; cunts both.
Nominated by: Ron Knee
‘Batters’ and forcing women’s cricket onto fans
