My fellow Cunters.

For your Cuntsideration:

Wimminz who make no effort for their menfolk, once wed!

If I had a pound for every male associate who has “bent my ear” about his sex kitten turning into a heffelump-I would be able to purchase an expensive set of in ear earphones?

Some of the words of wisdom, thrown at me, prior to marriage, include:

-careful mate, wedding cake fucking ruins a woman
-put that ring on her finger and her legs will snap shut
-marry em son, an’ the only thing that will suck in the ouse’ will be the oover!

Now we all get old and generally, time is not kind to us physically. However, I have noticed that most women DO get to a point where they let themselves go. It doesn’t take much effort to eat carefully, get a bit of exercise, try and stay “young at heart”.

Am I being too hard on these wimminz? Perhaps as I type this, some wimminz somewhere is typing an identical line about men….

What thinks you?

*I post this misogynistic rant, as it is a subject NOT connected to race, religion or sexuality?

Nominated by: Cuntfinder General

And for a little light relief, I offer you two cunts for the price of one.

News Link

Yes, my friends. Fat Reg and that ginger wanker Sheeran, although someone doesn’t seem too happy about someone’s gob flapping about it, so now it’s guaranteed to be number fucking one, and be played in perpetuity like Slade, Wizzard, Cliff, Bing etc in supermarkets.

There’s a reason why supermarkets are mostly single storied. It’s to stop staff killing themselves by jumping off the roof at Christmas.

Nominated by: Jeezum Priest

SOS Silence Of Suicide

As a now very old cunt with me sleep rhythms totally fucked Yours Truly spends late pm and the early hours in a state of maudlin inebriation drinking through dwindling stocks of a very decent single malt laid down over the generations. “It’s a quarter to three and there’s no-one in the place but you and me…” You know the scene, reflections on a wasted life, a little blubb over me late lamented wife – thoughts on all the friends (not many and outlived them all), foes and marks who made me the cunt I am – then I think to myself “Fuck ‘em” and take another single malt.

TV advertising in the wee hours consists of funeral plans, gaming, dating and charities. Fuck ‘em. Latest is this creepy voiceover from the outfit above inviting punters to man phone lines and social media on a voluntary basis with the aim of talking cunts out of topping themselves (full training provided). Bugger that. As a veteran of this site “Failure to oblige” (you cunt Shatner) is the bane of life and the true challenge of this grossly over populated world.

For the Stattos out there the stats are educational. For every 25 attempts only 1 actually does the business (Yankland). At a rate of 130 successes per day the total cull could be 130 x 25 = 3250 Yanks per day. Result. Extrapolate that for the rest of the world on an annual basis and climate change is sorted.

https://sossilenceofsuicide.org

https://save.org/about-suicide/suicide-facts/

My proposition is the promotion of suicide. It is nature’s way. Support TOTY – Turn On and Top Yourself (full training provided). You know it makes sense.

Nominated by: Sir Limply Stoke

A “get me the manager” cunting please for Karens.

Last Friday I was at the local doctors surgery bringing my elderly father (99 years old) to have a blood test, I was parked in the disabled bay outside the door, as I sat reading my copy of the Daily Malicious, I heard a tap on my car window as I turned to the side, there it was cunters, a member of the North Face light infantry’s soya latte division was stood there, I put the window down and said “yes”, to which she replied “this is a disabled space”, I said “I know my elderly father has gone in with my wife to have a blood test, so I’m entitled to be parked here”, Karen didn’t like my answer, she replied “I’m going to fetch ma hubby”, about a minute later this strange specimen of a cunt was walking towards me in the car, he strolled across to me like an anorexic plumber doing an impression of the Michelin man who’s just won the pools, he stood there shrieking like a whipped puppy, at this point I got out, now cunters when sat in the car “muh hubby” couldn’t tell I was 6’ 4”, the fucker soon pipped down when I told him to mind his own fucking business and take his Karen cunt of a wife with him, what makes these cunts think they have authority to question anyone going about their daily business, I hope Karen learnt her lesson, as not every citizen of this once great country is as calm and level headed as me, the pair of cunts need a damn good sjamboking!!!

Nominated by: Captain Quimson

Oh dear, oh dear.
Fat fuck Ian ‘Bloater’ Blackford, aka ‘The Westminster Windsock’, has opened his gob again and let his belly rumble.

The SNP leader in the Commons is frothing at the mouth about guess what; yes, the damage that being in the Union is causing Scotland. You can write the script yourself; ‘Tory inequities…tax hike…blah…Covid failings…Brexit…burble…’. Not a word about the SNP’s own abysmal record in Scotland, naturally.

Funnily enough however, ‘Bloater’ does have a remedy for the ‘problem’, and you won’t need three guesses. Yes, the SNP wants yet more billions in ‘recovery’ funds, from the UK government it purports to despise.

The Chancellor should tell the cunt to take a running jump, because it doesn’t matter what you do, you can never appease the SNP. Dole out billions and ‘Bloater’ will trumpet about ‘the SNP standing up for Scotland’ from the rooftops. Then he’ll be back moaning again next week. So you might as well give them sod all and let them just whinge and bellyache, which they do constantly anyway.

Blackford and the SNP are about as welcome as a thrombosed haemorrhoid; truly a disease on the anus of the British body politic.

News Link.

Nominated by: Ron Knee