Jiggerycock

That's Fred West isn't it? And if I want Jonathan Pearce shouting over-the-top hyperbole about a destructive machine with all the grace and mobility of a gored robot, then I'll listen to him commentating on Per Metersacker.

"But Mister Speaker, the gentleman opposite must realise that the lyric 'Why do we vote for faceless dogs? We always take the bait. All things come to he who waits, but all things come too late', from the seminal and indeed semenal work 'Get Back In Line' refers to the Labour Party membership. And if you squeeze my lizard, then I will, in a very real sense, put a snake on you!" I think that's what it said in Hansard, but I've been a bit fucked up these last two weeks.

Oceans Hundred and Eleven more like!! Seen the state of 'em!!? "I put it to you Mr Methuselah that you did half-inch a load of sparklers from Hatton Garden - you old cunt" "I did nuffink ov the sort yer honour, but your going to have to stop as I need a tot of Doctor Collis Brownes for me spastic colon and some Wincarnis for me Samuel Smiles." Talk about 'God's Waiting Room!' Still the overburdened taxpayer won't be spunking much up the wall looking after these wrinkly old shagsacks. I'd give 'em about 18 months before the lot of 'em buy the farm.

It's only the '2017 UK City Of Culture'!! Seriously! I know. Laugh it up. The only culture there is the stuff its citizens grow on their genitalia.

Bawsy you leave yourself open to charges of 'left-footerism' if your Pavlovian response to 'Chained To a Radiator?' isn't 'The Reverend Terry Waite!'

Well precisely my point! Thirty years? Fifty years? Where is the cut off point in the Homophobes Book of Outrage? That Tchaikovsky! He was another!!!

Oooh that Long John Baldry 'eh? Eh? Him and that Dave Davies out the Kinks! Disgusting!

Like him or cunt him it's a bit lame going on about a lyric he wrote when monged off his tits back in the 1980's. I thin it's the job of a popstar to shove a bug so far up the populations arses it makes a home there with scatter cushions and dado rails. So fair play to the bloke, whilst his 'music' is about as tepid as you can get, the fact he's still pissing people off thirty years after he shuffled into our consciousness, indicates he's doing something right. Mind you, that means I'd have to cut Kanye West some slack then wouldn't I? Bollocks, I think I'm going to implode.....

Ah well - always let the arsehole have the last word

I know you can't read properly and need to re-sit your O' Level in Windups and Piss-take exam, you short-fuse kick-off merchant

Oh and most cyclists are 'all the gear, no idea' twats, with more money than sense when it comes to cycling as a form of exercise

....and you are one stupid, gold plated, deep fried, industrial strength cunt if you think I give a brass shiny shite what you, with your lycra-clad, 'exaggerated sense-of entitlement, I-have-a-perfect-right-to-be here-except-when-it-suits-me-to-be-a-pretendy-pedestrian-and-go-on-the-pavement' attitude think about the state of fucking anything.

'The Voice' can go fuck itself and when it's done, fist X-Factor until its guts are a frothy brown mess.. This overblown Karaoke-with-a-back-story' nonsense had a shelf-life of a pint of milk in a germ warfare lab, and has been extended solely through bombastic marketing, which thankfully, even the TV drudge-monkeys are seeing through now. Still, there is some good news. ITV have got the Horse Racing off Channel 4 next year so I'm sitting pretty on the sofa, betting slip in one hand, cock in the other waiting for wall to wall coverage of my ante-post Cheltenham accumulator coming up as I wank myself silly. Toodle-cocking-pip!

Of course we could always start charging road tax for cyclists.

Wrong thread Dec me old mucker. The 'Tate Modern' thread is Thataway ^

David Gest looks like a testicle that's been covered in superglue and rolled round a barbers floor The rest? 'Meh' factor of 10 I'm afraid

Blinding idea and can't think why this hasn't been done before! Give the foetus my workout playlist (Sabbath, Motorhead, Alice In Chains, Lizzy) - little cunt'll come out like Chucky, knife in hand and so fucking enervated for some psychotic killing spree!

Doritos! Day and night! For all eternity!

Who is it his time then? Someone hanging out the back of their secretary - or a 'meat rack' schoolboy more likely, given that lot's form to date? Someone taking backhanders from big business - or indeed, backhanders from Miss Whiplash? Or just someone who's been at the catnip, dressed up like a raddled old Flamenco dancer and got his fag to call him mummy.....whilst wanking....on webcam.

My daughter's got an MBE - meaning she can get married in St Pauls Cathedral. I think she can also drive her heard of sheep across London Bridge is she wants (so watch your step Prof B, that's all I'm saying) If you ask nicely I'll throw you peasants a bit of communion wafer from the Whispering Gallery on the day. Also, the greatest living sportsman Tony McCoy got a knighthood - so not a cunt in any way therefore.

Gayle is hardly a chiselled love-albatross though, is he? Imagine being a woman (go on - you know you want to!) and having that big round 'Billy Moon' phizzog gurning and sweating away over you whilst doing The Nasty. You'd dry up quicker than a pikeys towel

Close. Burly artist

Your words wound! I am an artist - not a Brony wank fantasy.

Ooooh I can think of at least one of our number who would fit precisely that nomenclature.

Using a lightness of touch and a finely tempered modality, Jiggers answered with a 'Gestalt' which said not only 'I am' - but also 'I may be' Does that answer your question?