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Everything posted by Decimus

  1. Have you ever fucked a fat bird, Nocti? I take it from this admission of raging pork hysteria that you haven't. During my student days, I danced the rodeo upon many a bucking fat lass, and I'll tell you this; their cunts absolutely fucking stink. Every single one I've had the misfortune to trade blows with, has had the acrid tang of vinegar upon it, a pungent aroma which has made me vomit on more than one occasion, as the vaginal particles hit the part of my tongue at the back of my throat that picks up the leaden sensation of battery acid. Pay your fucking bills and get right fucked, Vanessa, you Giant Jewess fucking slapper.
  2. @The Beast have you been grooming this cunt? I hope for your sake that Drew Peacock is dead.
  3. In years gone by cunts like this would be locked up in Bedlam and left to shit on the padded floors. I don't want to see this sort on the telly or in the street, they make me fucking sick.
  4. I bet they weren't laughing ten minutes later once they'd all been stabbed.
  5. I think we got the message the 48th time you said this. It's almost as if Richard Littlejohn, Quentin Letts and Piers Morgan got together and brainstormed some key phrases that they wanted to input into a Daily Mail bot, but then entrusted Joey Deacon with writing up and delivering the dialogue notes to the developer. Give it a fucking rest, you're not on Luton high street.
  6. They're the saveloys of comedy. You've got a vague notion that you used to like them, but you can't remember exactly why. Then, when you reacquaint yourself with the experience, you're either violently sick or you pretend to enjoy it because you're surrounded by pseudointellectual, deviant homosexuals who wax lyrical about it.
  7. Monty Python was shit and vastly overrated. That's all I've got to say on the matter.
  8. She should count herself lucky that women are allowed to drive without being preceded by a man on foot waving a red flag.
  9. He's an absolute fucking bellend desperate for attention, the right wing version of Lily Allen. His latest outburst involved saying that it was incongruous to see a Sikh soldier in the film 1917. Tell that to the 75,000 Indian troops who died in the trenches, Laurence, you mouthy little cunt.
  10. I don't mean to be a pessimist, but I imagine it's all down hill from here.
  11. Because it's built on top on an ancient Indian burial ground, the foundations of the original Merchants of Spice.
  12. Please do. Whilst you're there, perhaps you can convey my wish that they end up in the same situation as my old boss and his wife did at North Norfolk District Council. Although I'd wager that unlike Keith, Simon is more likely to shove the shotgun up his arse than down Karen's throat.
  13. I quite enjoyed it. Not Gaiman's best work, but easy watching. I loved American Gods as a novel, but the television series has been disappointing so far, and the less said about Lucifer, the better.
  14. At least Dalton was white, male, heterosexual and had two arms and two legs. The future James Bond of 2030 won't have any of these qualities.
  15. I'd be careful if I were you, Drew. Now we've merged with South Norfolk, my patch covers 563 square miles and 270,000 people. I've got a feeling from what you've let slip over the years that your profession often crosses swords with planning and environmental. Rest assured, if I ever find out who you are, I'm going to rain down a shit storm of petty bureaucracy and red tape onto your tiny, bald head. And if I'm wrong and you're an unemployed alcoholic as everyone else assumes, I'll make sure my contact in benefits conveniently loses your CTS form. You've been warned.
  16. It's already Blue Monday, so I'd rather not, if that's OK with you.
  17. Another day, another fucking fiasco on the A47/Broadland northway. The knock on effect has meant that it's taken me an hour and a fucking half to get from my house to the magic Postwick roundabout. I'm absolutely fuming.
  18. Decimus


    Reggie Kray popped his pink slippers a five minute walk from my office in a pub now called The Townhouse. I go there at lunchtime a few times a week, and I can confirm that the condom machine is haunted.
  19. Thankfully, half of it, along with Jazz's Wendy House, fell into the sea a few years ago. If we're swapping horror stories, I went to Clacton last year to visit someone I lived with at University. If that wasn't ghastly enough, I persuaded them after much haggling to drive us through Jaywick so I could gawp at the natives. Why on Earth doesn't Tendring Council carpet bomb it, salt the earth and deport the animals that inhabit it to the Calais Jungle?
  20. More insidious and disgusting than that, Great Yarmouth Borough Council. Absolute vermin.
  21. I suppose that one of the benefits of living in a house built of breeze blocks painted yellow to mimic oolitic Cotswold limestone, is that there's no chance of it burning to the ground every night you fall asleep pissed up whilst clutching a roll up between your disturbingly feminine fingers.
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