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Arthur Fuqs-Aches

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27 Excellent

About Arthur Fuqs-Aches

  • Rank
    Proper cunt

Profile Information

  • Location
    34 DogShit Avenue
  • Interests
    Ready meals, junk food, alcohol, bigotry and intolerance. Smoking out cunts and arseholes.

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1,469 profile views
  1. Another example of a once cherished sporting jewel that's sold out to corporate overkill. Gone is Peter Osullevan on the BBC and in come a bunch of ITV cunts of the Matt Chapman calibre which sums it all up perfectly - classless, soulless and unprofessional by choice. Now fuck off with your accas and degenerate problem gambling.
  2. Another Monday-morning initiative to change public perscpective about a 'controversial' topic. With womens' day gone and the hilarious 'DryJanuary' a drunken memory here is more thinly veiled propaganda for us to pay for. Where's the Yaxley Lennon kid when he's needed?
  3. It's all a scam, all for profit, all for the egos of the overpaid media 'personalities' who push it on ordinary folks' conscience whilst they're gathered round the TV on a Saturday evening and, in the meantime, like you say the middle class cunts are sat quaffing prosecco and talking shit and pretending not to see the man with the bucket. A straight-up racket. I'll give a quid to the Sally Army but these bastards can fund it themseves from their vast incomes. And the tribies are still dancing round their huts when Lenny truns up for a propaganda sketch. What a fraud.
  4. Have they not been nommed before? I don't know but what a worthy nom for unworthy, failed nobodies directing traffic that's already coming to a halt at 5mph for Christs sakes. I'd like to see one flattened by a mobility scooter in a fluorescent bloodbath where the cripple gets up flees the scene. The village ones are the biggest dinlos Punkape in my book.
  5. I'll only donate if Lenny 'Sir' Henry is involved in it.
  6. 20 Bensons and 5 minutes on a Routemaster guv, please. Or, an Enviro fucking Bus for the 'bish...
  7. Walked quietly away from Bristol Crown Court hasn't he?
  8. I like to string 'em along for half an hour, slow-time them while showing an undecided interest, then say "Can you give me the recipe for bread?
  9. He needs a bucket sized gob to chomp that fucking gum non stop for 90 minutes. And the crooked cunt is downright shifty too.
  10. Leave the poor fuckers alone. They've paid their money and you're going to dip the skip round the back, not your trolley. In fact off your trolley sounds about right.
  11. Postmen (and butch Postwomen) insist on wearing shorts in February. They might do it to raise funds for charity, or just to annoy people even more when they deliver a pile of leaflets to you at 4 PM. That's cuntitude however you look at it. Get the uniform of the old days back on and stop being twats.
  12. Suprised there are no other noms of this irritating phenomenon. It has crept in under Tony Blair's ruinous tenure and been thoughtlessly 'embraced' (fuck off) by a generation of students and their stupid parents and now, for fucks sake, everywhere you go it's 'Hi Guys' this and 'Have a nice day' that. Even Tescos seem to have told their staff to say 'Enjoy the rest of your evening'. That's a tweaked version for us long-suffering Brits and appropriate for the British public cliniucally depresse (all of you cunts), skint, divorced and with 8 bottles of Weston's Vintage in the basket. Bye guys. Muttering 'cunts' under my breath.
  13. Spurs and replica rifles? Now you're glorifying trouble on the terraces Decimus. Stop your ambiguity you cunt and stop insulting the Klan while your at it. Scotland, pfft, honestly.
  14. 3 bells for 80 pence. I win and am a winner in life.
  15. The blood tinged vomit is stopping me express my thought of this vile cunt. Now I can taste it too.
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