Eric Cuntman

We grant citizenship to these murderous fucking pigs. We bend over backwards to accommodate their beliefs and disgusting medieval practices… yet serving members of the Gurkha regiment who fight and die for this country, aren’t allowed to live in it. That pretty much sums up where we’re at.

Did Mitch force you to wear Clark’s corrective shoes and Mr Byrite easy-care trousers as a child? This must stem from somewhere.

You’ve fucked this right up.

Did you see Sadiq Kahn jigging around high-fiving the deviants at London pride week? I bet the Iman ordered him to rape and beat a white girl to death as penance.

To escape from the chicken fucker.

They’re the kind of shoes I would have chosen if I’d been feeling left out of the bullying at school.

‘Legs Akimbo Children’s Theatre Company’

I don’t really fancy it with those strips of sellotape holding the letters in place.

Lattlay Fottfoy

Gets mentioned at spunk drinking competitions.

It’s just shredded ravioli. Don’t worry about it. Use it as a judgement and classification tool for others. If they say ‘Spaghetti Bolognaise’ they’re ok. If they say Spag-Bol, they’re a cunt. You can do the same with ‘Nougat’. Ask someone to pronounce it… if they say ‘nuggit’ they’re normal. If on the other hand they say, ‘noo-gar’ they’re a pervert, or Withers.

Looks classy. Did they have Viennetta for pud?

Nothing wrong with Angel Delight. Better than all that wank they put on the trolley in restaurants. So is Arctic Roll.

Go AIDS go!!

He already had a copy.

‘So how do you keep it so warm in here then?’

And I bet you dream of flushing toilets when you’re crouched in the gutter, curling out a garlicky one in the rain alongside le neighbours.

TRMS & Conditions apply.

Licking Kate Silverton not good enough?

Tell him you love him. Poofs are notoriously commitment-shy.

Sadia wall mounted water heaters. A big white cylinder with a swivelling chromed spout and a Bakelite tap on the front. The landing toilet was a ‘Dauntless Rubberline’. A fucking great black rubber cistern mounted on iron brackets near the ceiling. I miss that sort of luxury.

Nurse G-G-G-Gladys Emanuelle… they wouldn’t let Ronnie Barker do that now. He’s dead.

I didn’t hear any tambourine playing.

When I was 18 and moved into my first shithole, a bedsit, it had one big official meter downstairs and all the rooms had little 50p meters that the landlord emptied. Although the coin boxes all had the same key and one of the tenants had a copy. Put the 50p in the slot, catch it and put it back through. I didn’t feel guilty. The landlord was a Welsh Jew.

I thought it was Trey Blinka.