Meet Uncle Monty

They're not all cunts (well in this respect). They have a palate partial to some week-old roadkill, as do I so cut them some slack you bitter old bastards and embrace the culture of smoking Gitanes, dead squirrels, hairy arsed women and a police force clubbing you to death for as much as protesting about the age of retirement. Just say Non and take to the streets if you're British and watch the filth kettle you.

In my misspent, drug-ravaged days of the early 90's there was a DJ called 'Bob Funkhouse' who also dealt copious quantities of pharmaceuticals. You don't get that kind of service nowadays.

I'd be careful, look what the BBC's Gerald Sin-stadt got caught doing.

Not a weatherman, surely?

Too many middle class, private schooled players, all the facilities and privileges and a hair-brained 'Bazball' idea that only IPL playing cunts can relate to. And that's the problem - millionaires prioritising IPL rubbish over the red ball game. Sir Geoffrey calls it reckless, you know.

In my cooler clubbing days there were clubs that had a 'No Ralph Lauren' door policy. Just the sight of that big logo reminds me these bellends are in fucking charge. I've had enough, I really have.

Whilst you clueless lot lament the (undoubted) modern-day cuntbreeds in cricket, I bow only to Sir Geoffrey Boycott - the gospel of analysis. It's the best plan of attack, is that.

He has the charm and eloquence of a three day corpse. Pronounce your Ts and quit the false, ultra-working class demeanour. Has the income and abode of considerable wealth which must boil the piss of his members. In fact this nom itself is piss boiling, thanks a bunch, comrades.

John Higgins is the WPBSA's ambassador and could swallow 300,000 all right. Were you the spectator who shouted at him during that match, Cunt?

No Further Action, Sir Cleft.

As a proud imperialist and blood-thirsty thug I am deeply miffed when the media slag my class of person this time every year claiming they are not chasing government approved decoys and instead foxes. I have an old friend who was once an anarchist 'sab' who tells me they never did chase decoys and I say Tally-Cunting-Ho to that. Those weeping lunatics will find another topic once the cameras have fucked off. The picket lines will need some numbers and extra voice soon.

You leave Paul Ross alone. Being a humble daytime TV and chat magazine jobber - all the while struggling under the shadow of his brother with a huge cock and bank balance greater than the Prince of Monaco must be ego-crushing enough without your bizarre and churlish claim. Take it back Decimus you fiend.

😏 Raw nerve.

Uncanny sycophantic response there, Mr Admas. Is that Mrs Roops's fanny batter in that face fungus?

Why not have the bottle to confront the cunt - if this beef even existed in the first place? I suspect you're fishing for cheap feedback, the like of which is abundant here.