Cuntybaws

Sorry, I missed that well-disguised trap. I guess bait appropriate for tiddlers isn't appetising to a passing Oceanic Whitetip. I remember Wizardsleeve once tried to tell me which posts I could respond to and which I couldn't. Anyone know what happened to him?

Much as I enjoy a good grammatical pile on, I'm afraid that this is not a double preposition. The second “in” is indeed a preposition, but the first occurrence is an adverb forming an integral part of the phrasal verb “weighed in”.

Now you've made me think of a young Bunty James, and from there it's only a short hop to Jenny Hanley. Back in a few minutes...

Starsky & Hutch began in 1975, while 48 Hours was released in 1982. Not saying there weren't any other empowered blacks on TV at that point - especially US TV - but Captain Dobey is the first I remember. At least the incompetent police chief in Dirty Harry (1971) had the decency to be white.

The first time I realised my father might be a big racist was when he accepted over the top uber-pimp Huggy Bear without comment, but lambasted the unrealistic nature of Captain Dobey bossing white men about.

Hate is far too strong a word, but I greatly resented his ham acting, amateurish style. It wasn't just Moore either, cunts like Magnus Pyke had a lot to answer for. For every kid who learned anything about science or astronomy, a far greater number were turned off by their over-enthusiastic posturing and stereotypical mad scientist bumbling. They were inaccurately cast as "popularisers" of science, when they were more often figures of ridicule who had the exact opposite effect. For similar reasons I far prefer to read Scientific American than New Scientist; but I'm still not sure where I stand on Johnny Morris.

Nothing like consistency, eh?

You could just search on here, the foul little oxygen thief has cropped up quite a few times. For example...

She's truly awful, agreed, but no worse than her predecessor, the corpulent, pop-eyed, xylophone playing fucking wrong 'un.

Team GB and England footballer dies aged 33 I thought you might have been referring to this story which today topped the BBC Football News page. If you can be arsed ploughing through the tedious details you'll discover that this apparent sports legend was actually a deaf woman who once represented England at the 2015 World Deaf Futsal Championship. Read further and you'll discover that she committed suicide, and that her "wife" is distraught. The headline should therefore more accurately read, "Stupid deaf dyke cunt tops herself".

She is a fucking abomination, whose "act" is only slightly better than watching a Down's syndrome kid playing with its own shite.

Who do you think our worst one was? Mo Farah's high on my list.

Tadhg.

Panem et circenses.

Can't say the great Jello Biafra didn't warn us... Efficiency and progress is ours once more, Now that we have the neutron bomb, It's nice and quick and clean and gets things done. Away with excess enemy, But no less value to property, No sense in war but perfect sense at home. The sun beams down on a brand new day, No more welfare tax to pay, Unsightly slums gone up in flashing light. Jobless millions whisked away, At last we have more room to play, All systems go to kill the poor tonight. Gonna kill, kill, kill, kill, kill the poor, Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill the poor, Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill the poor tonight.

It was a public vote. I didn't think the public were so fucking stupid, but the trouble with democracy is that it allows lesbians with no working knowledge of the offside rule to vote. I blame those Pankhurst cunts.

Nuns. No sense of humour.

Any excuse to repost this little gem...

More like Russell Nash. There can be only one.

I'm not sure I like your tone.

That sounds like a challenge to Ratty to see how many Werther's Originals he could fit into your duodenum.

This is a trap, right?

You don't want to be eating any of that foreign muck with the fat leached out of it, Raas, when the greatest cuisine in the world is just across the border. Deep fry it, then deep fry it again, where "it" is anything you you can imagine.