Last Cunt Standing

Ford? Then I imagine your tetanus is well up to date, Eric.

Sorry Bill, but we’re good for tinfoil, thanks all the same. If you wanna knock a few other doors round here, theres a Ginger Welsh Lady up the road who’ll chat away about anything, though if she answers the door in a velvet dress with a glass of wine, run like it’s a Falls Road coded warning, there’s a good lad.

When was your last tetanus?

Hey, @Roadkill, fancy a swim? https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2023/aug/05/investigation-after-57-world-triathlon-championship-swimmers-fall-sick-and-get-diarrhoea-in-sunderland-race

Every fourth year you have to support Spurs?

I can’t speak for the whole country, Bill, but even Australia isn’t immune from the trends in Western Civilisation. Personally though, I don’t see more evidence of transgenderism or left wing bias here compared to most other places. You’ll be pleased to know the swivel-eyed right wing SovCit lunatics are just as abundant here in public as they are in other bits of the world. Day to day most people pay no attention to all the shite and are most interested in the roof over their head and the grub on the table, just as it should be. As for The Voice, well Sky News Australia and the Murdoch Press seem to be working themselves into a proper froth, most people couldn’t give a fuck. Referenda are, as you well recall, bitterly divisive exercises which rarely solve problems. Just like the inevitable Border Poll coming to your homeland. I hope I live long enough to see the Gardai buy all those armoured Land Rovers off the PSNI and drive them up and down the Shankill 24/7 belting out The Fields of Athenry on their PAs. Kindly adjust your tinfoil.

Fuck me sideways Goldberg, I thought you were dead. Sorry, wished.

If you’re on the skills list and under 45 I have a plan for you, OCR. Join the exodus. My recent unplanned visit to Airstrip One only fuelled my conclusion that sadly, Britain is cooked. I spent eighty quid in Waitrose on dinner for four. Seven quid a pint at Old Trafford? Fuck that.

My read is that none of them are particularly popular down here. Sandpapergate still sticks in many throats - many times at the WACA I’ve heard lifetime bans should have been dished out by CA and a new crop blooded then. Most Aussies Cricket tragics I know, spoilt by the great team of the early 2000’s, are more than a bit embarrassed by the current squad. There’s also the suspicion they lack the grit and mongrel of Baggy Greens gone by. Smith is the prime example of such thinking. Quality Tests are on hiatus now until the Indians visit. Quite who will line up to face them will be interesting.

Well that’s quite the debate. Warner has already pencilled in a goodbye at the SCG in January and he’ll be given a wave through by the big wigs who feel he is owed for some reason. The bowling department looks a bit thin at Sheffield Shield level, which is why Boland is touring I guess. Cam Green obviously being pushed as the future fulcrum. I will give you one new name for the future though, I’ve seen a lot of him here in WA and if he’s not in the Baggy Green in the next few years I’ll be quite surprised. Teague Wylie. The boy can play.

The Australian Cricket press have given this side a right mauling in the Sunday papers, pointing out quite rightly that Australia have looked lost and out of ideas since Leeds at the very most. They want Cummins dumped as Skipper, and even if they knock off 250 tomorrow, which weather permitting they might well, it’s a pretty lukewarm reception waiting for them down here. Consensus is England have played the better, shrewder cricket, and with wiser selections and better preparation (a single test against Ireland is felt to be hilarious) they should have won the series at a canter. Still, the ECB have got six long months to learn lessons. No English Test Matches in August is also worthy of some reflection, imho.

As hinted at by m’learned colleague, I find it hard to believe this is the first time you’ve inserted a lazy semi, and failed to hit the spot. No need to be embarrassed. About this, anyway. Common problem in men of your age and disposition.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

Like I said, it’s all incoherent and white-noisy at this point. I can’t continue to deconstruct arguments with someone clearly incapable of articulating his position beyond whatever grunting op-ed he’s read that morning. As is often the case with such base thinking, the rigidity of your output seems outmatched only by your idiocy, with the thin gruel of asserted public support as a pathetic garnish. It’s clear by now that you peaked rhetorically demanding school dinner money. I could almost feel sorry for you. I am yet to see evidence of you possessing a single redeeming feature, and as I’ve got better things to do over the English Summer than trade barbs with a poor man’s Nick Ferrari, I’ll bid you good day for the moment. It’ll soon by Notting Hill Carnival time again and you can regale us all with your traditionally enlightened views on that too. I can hardly wait.

I see Lady Owen of Alderley Edge has taken her seat and is merrily pocketing her expenses for life, with little to no press attention which is a story in itself. At least she’s turning up for work though, as by the look of Good Morning Britain in my hotel room just now, every other Cunt in Britain is on strike. On my way to the Cricket later I’ll be sure to drop in a bit of lobster and foie gras for my old Consultant chums manning the braziers. That is if I don’t bump into them in hospitality at Old Trafford, the cunning old foxes. Country’s a fucking bin fire.

Most young people I know are quite able at defending themselves against predatory behaviour, in fact they’ve become so good at it they tend to cite it a bit too freely these days. Unlike the Schofield affair, Huw doesn’t appear to have been leering after younger workmates, perhaps you know differently?

I’ve got news for you, Ed. I’ve got relatives who probably do get up to all sorts of antics I’d rather not know about. I think exchanging dick pics for thirty five grand is bloody good business if you ask me.

And? Your fleshpots must overflow with such people. Pillars of the community who harbour secret desires to have custard licked off them by a Ukrainian girl in a Cowboy hat. I don’t see you morally objecting when they hand over fistfuls of twenties. How many High Court Judges have you had flayed over a spanking bench? Are they incapable of doing their job because they indulge their private yet legal fantasies, Bill? I’m only asking because I’m struggling with the mental contortions required to be a moralising Puritanical Orange Lodge brothel keeper one minute, and an outraged pro-MAGA Christmas Tree magnate with an imaginary M4 and a penchant for the Royal Family the next. It’s almost like you’re making it up as you go along. Oh and it’s King Sausage Fingers the Third. You lot tend to be up on Kings and Queens, no?

No surpise (sic) to read such a load of utter balls from our very own abmassador (sic) of wrongheadedness. It’s not even coherent. Weird objections again to how much Huw is paid, conflations with his income and personal morality, a revealing yet typically lazy attack on all public sector workers, mixed in with a bit of salacious male anatomy, then for the coup de grace, an appeal for those people “struggling with mental health” to have better access to care, while almost in the same paragraph denouncing mental health diagnoses as the all-too-convenient safe harbour for all kinds of impropriety. You seem most annoyed this time that Huw “deceived” the viewing public about what he gets up to privately, then later tell us that it’s none of your business what people chose to do in their private lives. Every single one of us here deceives the “public” about what we do privately, (unless of course you turn up to work bearing a t-shirt emblazoned with “you might know me as Alan from Stores, but at night I’m Wolfie, keyboard warrior and arbiter of justice”). Lastly, your fury that the collective public kicking is felt distasteful by “snowflakes” once their prey is inside a secure ward and on medication is very revealing. It’s a special kind of brave to advocate for the continued public humiliation of a man in hospital. Well done. Perhaps we can expect your next instalment, touring oncology suites and barking at the clientele for being leeches on the public purse, hiding behind an oh-so-convenient lung cancer, only there because they couldn’t resist sucking down on some B&H, some of them while in receipt of public funds, the fiends! This last point neatly illustrates what I have said for some time to some of the many visitors to my Corner DMs in recent months, whether they were either privately agreeing with me in our exchanges, or expressing their distaste for your conduct on the site. In response, I have tended to stress that the Corner thrives on disagreement and debate, and that when I joined the site I came for the humour and wit that used to abound. I’ve disagreed forcefully with many people here, but mostly I’ve felt like they were people I could have a good laugh with down the boozer, which to me was the vibe the place was trying to create. You however are very different gravy. There is an arrogant ugliness to your posts, a humourless and bitterly unpleasant edge which leaps from the page, and which I suspect in person I would find deeply off putting. I don’t once recall you being wrong, inferring your mind has changed or your opinion evolved, responding humorously or with subtlety. Something tells me you’ve emptied a few rooms in your time and been left wondering where everybody went. I’m sure it’s them, not you. To conclude anything else might be bad for your mental health, after all. Some people just don’t do irony, do they? See ya later.

I’m not in Victoria, so perhaps @southerncunt might be better placed. My read is that Big Dan is in touch with the general mood of the nation. Most here could not give a Cows’ Cunt (thanks @Neil) about the Commonwealth Games, it’s a relic of a fallen Empire, and $6 billion has many better uses than kissing Charlie’s arse. It’s a matter of time before the umbilical to London is snipped anyway, so frankly, why bother? Perth’s mayor tried to suggest WA stepped in for it, and got firmly slapped down for his trouble. It’s an expensive irrelevance. Who wants it?

Amen. Nick Clegg in particular should be tied to two Utes which are driven fast in opposite directions. I can live with a little bit of tactical voting mind, whatever it takes to turn the Tories in on themselves, which by all accounts is already well underway. There’s a nasty rumour that Jonny Mercer is sniffing round BAE Systems here in WA wanting a job on the AUKUS sub deal. Hardly a vote of confidence in their chances, is it? He’ll go down like a cup of cold sick over here.

I’m currently sat in the Qantas lounge at Perth airport, watching the rain fall as I wait for QF9 to ferry me back to Blighty. Funeral for an old friend, and perhaps a little trip to Old Trafford if the weather holds this week (anyone in the vicinity have a forecast?). I’ll be in the UK on Thursday when the by-elections come in. If it isn’t the beginnings of a major political earthquake, then I wish you all good fucking luck.

Shite, even by your usual pub-bore standards. 1. You concede Huw Edwards hasn’t done anything legally wrong, but find his conduct morally dubious. So? Who died and made you witchfinder general? (What’s a decable, when it’s at home, anyway?). 2. You seem very aggrieved at the size of Huw’s wages, and somehow you conflate this with his behaviour. The more he is paid, the higher moral standards you apply, is that it? So a janitor at Bush House can do pretty much as she pleases and you’re not bothered? By all means make your case that BBC staff are overpaid, but to base your expectations for personal behaviour on the back of income is balls. To imply that people in receipt of public funds as salary devolve all personal agency to the public is mad, and leads to the sort of spectacle where ignorant string-vested tossers hammer on provincial Council reception desks bellowing “I pay your wages, pal”, an odious behaviour I suspect you aren’t unfamiliar with. 3. You patently know nothing about mental health either in general or in this case. You allege it’s used as cover for bad behaviour after the fact, and all I can say is I hope you aren’t a magistrate or serve on a jury. Huw has talked publicly about his depression since at least 2016. So he was just playing the long game, was he? In moments of psychological crisis, people make decisions they wouldn’t normally, which might not later stand up to scrutiny. This doesn’t ever excuse criminality, but provided no crimes are committed, I’d suggest a little more empathy and a little less spittle-flecked fury might be a better approach. Never done anything wrong you later regretted, you silly little man? No mental infirmity affecting the branches of the Lupine family tree? Perhaps not, as I suspect you’d have to shake hands with someone to form a synapse. 4. You’ve tried several times to obfuscate the age of the non-complaining image provider, using a vague 17-20 catch-all and the label “teenager” to conjure up in the reader images of a naive spotty youth. For all you know, this might be a razor-sharp young adult with zero shame about legally selling images of their naked body for cash. Like say, Samantha Fox, once enriched by the very paper you line up to defend, and at 16, rather younger than this young man who has done nothing illegal according to Police, and who’s conduct is literally fuck all to do with you. 5. This is a clear victory for The Sun, is it? Well I’ll be filing that away for the coming day Huw walks away with seven figures from the High Court for the most egregious career-ending libel. If he can’t read out the news of his inevitable victory himself, I hope he rubs some noses in it by writing a large cheque to The Terence Higgins Trust, then stomps off down Old Compton Street to party all night with a Twink army. 6. The BBC Cover-up angle is particularly nonsensical to me. To review, they supposedly had a parental complaint that a senior employee was in contact with their adult drug-using son over the internet eight weeks ago. Before they could investigate fully or act, a gutter rag broke what they thought was a great scoop, mostly because it fitted their owner’s jaundiced view of the BBC. Turns out to be not much of a story, with no clear “victim” other than a few butt-hurt Mary Whitehouse types. But the BBC, being so terrified of gobshite armchair HR experts post-Savile, ran wall-to-wall coverage of the feeding frenzy on their channels, rather than saying, entirely reasonably, “it’s an internal matter currently under investigation, fuck off”. Some cover up. Contrary to your purple-faced rage, the public has zero right to know if a public employee is being investigated for a non-criminal personal matter, and even then no right to know anything exists until the matter is concluded. What would you do, if some seedy allegation was made to the owners of your West Country Estate Agency (different! Not publicly funded! Tosser.) against you by the parents of a porn star you’d once happened across on the internet? Pull out a blade and disembowel yourself at your desk? Good to know. I mean, why bother with due process at all, eh? Just let the public scream nonce at anyone they dislike with no evidence and no investigation, then drag them onto TV for a forced ritual humiliation and thumbscrews. Sounds like a very healthy system. 7. The British public had and has every right to know who this person was, and to watch as the tabloids tear his arsehole to shreds. This sentence is disgusting. It’s about vengeance, not justice. Because you don’t like the politics of his employer, or how much he is paid, you’re effectively sanctioning the public lynching of someone on suspicion of their legal behavioural choices you happen to dislike, and before any proper inquiry occurs. You’re a thug, and a pretty shameful one at that. 8. Have you paused to reflect on why Huw? I can think of hundreds of UK targets more befitting a savaging by the tabloid press. Yet time after time, they get a pass, a soft-focus lifestyle piece in the Sunday supplement, or worse still, promotion of their ideology in the organ you so idolise. You might spend a little time trying to work out why that is, once you pull your head from your arse.

Ahl si’thee.