Last Cunt Standing

This has got to be the Cunt du jour, really hasn't it?

That old well-tested cliche, beloved of lazy journalists the land over, rears its ugly head again this January. As sure as a child's tears on Boxing Day, you'll find angst-ridden punters on their way into A&E harangued on the pavement by BBC types about their reason for attending and the coming meltdown of the NHS. Then shots of ambulances all parked up while the men in green overalls have some elevenses. Cut to a sea of geriatrics on trolleys looking haunted and earnest Nurses fiddling with their bags of Hartmanns and IV lines. And finally, some Oxbridge Tory snake pops up giving it plenty about how marvellous it is the NHS is staffed by dedicated people who bust an unpaid gut to help others in the most difficult of unforeseen circumstances, while at the same time strangling the very service they praise with death by underfunding. A thousand and one talking heads pop up, hydra-like to denounce the problems; Immigration! Austerity! PFI! Social Care! Australian Flu! Lazy GPs!

I've seen this shit every winter my entire career (nearly done thank Christ) and its now just boring. The tsunami of viral symptoms, snot, and coughs that "just won't shift even though i've tried everything" is so entirely predictable that in my surgery we even keep a tally chart in the tea room of how many viral coughs and colds we've seen this week. It goes up every Christmas with the decorations, and a bottle of fizz goes to King or Queen of snot announced on Valentines day. 

When will people ever fucking learn? Take a fucking holiday in January, somewhere far away and hot. If you don't, be prepared to run the risk of a cold. If you are unlucky and catch one, there's pretty much fuck all the medical profession can do for you most of the time, and you'll end up being on their wanker list if you bang the table and cry if you don't get antibiotics in an act of pacification. The NHS is dying, can barely cope with normal levels of demand - you turning up in your jim-jams and Superman duvet 'cos you've run out Lemsip makes you not only a right Cunt, it might as well be a knife through the heart of this 70-year old monolith. 

So overwhelmed are the A&E departments with grown adults with a touch of the sniffles, that the entire hospital goes into Operation Omnishambles; all elective work is cancelled and the Consultant Orthopaedic Surgeons and Ophthalmologists get to resume their annual inter-departmental office chair races around the operating theatres on 100k a year plus each. My punters moan on at me that there's a 2 year wait for their cataracts and so the circle continues forever and ever... 

Fucked from apex to fundus. I think we should start over. 

LOL

Fuck off. 

1 hour ago, camberwell gypsy said:

'Suddenly appeared on Christmas Eve'. So it just appeared from nowhere? No cunt saw a cunt take several hours to paint a giant dick on the wall, probably using at most a cherry picker, at least a ladder and nobody said anything like "what are you painting? A what? That's fucking disgusting. I'm calling the police".  Cunts 

I agree, this “out of nowhere” bit is probably bollocks. A few sly New Yorkers probably hoping they could knock out their East Side apartment with a “genuine Banksy artwork” to a Russian Hedgie with no brain. Instead the only buyer for their apartment now is the shrinking Male Sauna market. 

1 hour ago, Lady Penelope said:

Here it is, I have been in it. There were at least five books

Looks like the sort of building our dear departed Punkape is commonly found in, lurking in the stall clutching his carrier bag and slowly rocking back and forth muttering some bollocks about golf clubs and nice claret. 

Ten quid says when he pops up hydra-like from whatever hole he’s crawled up, it’ll be some bollocks about his fortnight in Sandy Lane. 

20 minutes ago, Roadkill said:

It doesn't matter who or what they are - I doubt any of them are immune to a good fucking shovelling to the face. We're talking hoodie wearing scumbags here who are all undoubtedly in their mid thirties at this point and still get off on the idea of scribbling on other people's walls. Take out one, then all you have to do is wait for the rest of the fuckers to gather together in an attempt to paint some shitty protest mural - if they can find a bunch of jihadis fucking goats in the middle of the desert they can find a bunch of pretentious chavs hauling around bags of spray paint, ladders, and stencils. Admittedly there would be collateral, but who gives a shit when it would mostly consist of other hoody wearing chavs gathering together to cause mischief?

I can’t quarrel with your logic or your venom. A Hellfire missile up the wazoo would be a fitting end for the wet cunts. 

11 minutes ago, Roadkill said:

This is why Banksy needs to be found and crucified. As long as he's running around scribbling shitty stencil work on private property then every other hopeless cunt with a can of paint and inflated ego will try and get famous in the same manner. This Falkholt fucker isn't trying to make some big, complicated statement with her cocks and fannies - she just knows such images will get her much more recognition from the plebs. 

 

You'll have a job, as contrary to public belief, Banksy is not one person, more of a brand. Several people use the principles and techniques and get off on the world scratching their collective heads at the mystery. Banksy is a Multi-Cunt, and we all know what happens to multis....

7 minutes ago, Lady Penelope said:

Bland.

Would that be Katy, Russell or Jo, M'Lady? Please don't speak with your mouth full. 

33 minutes ago, luke swarm said:

no I don't think its a neoplasm, I think its some form of cancer.

A rare sentence in which you are right and wrong at the same time, Luke.

How very Schrodinger. 

29 minutes ago, luke swarm said:

what's this you say, Wolverhampton has a library, are you sure? 

I believe it’s a multi-use building which doubles as a homeless shelter and halal butchers every third Wednesday. Or at least it was when I last visited the Florence of the West Midlands on a poverty safari. 

1 minute ago, Witheredscrote said:

We definitely don't have any kosher boucheries or swarthy types in this very rural part of France. No satirical magazine offices for that matter. If I were to get an unwashed peasant type pissed, and got him to kill Howard, would that suffice.

Well apparently you are nearly dead from an unspecified neoplasm anyway, so why don’t you do something inspirational and newsworthy involving suicide geese and a French kindergarten? Immortality and 72 virgins awaits, brother!

20 minutes ago, Witheredscrote said:

Another low by Naga Munchminga this morning. 'What to do with unwanted presents?'  11 people interviewed,  7 black, and a gross ginger Glaswegian sweaty in need of sub- titles. As far as I am concerned they can shove them up each others arses. Vivre

Withers, this only happens as there is a dirth of real news. Pop down to your local town square and have a chat with some of the duskier Froggy youths with Algerian connections, see if they can’t pull their collective finger out and give us a real story soon. Surely there’s a kosher Boucherie or satirical magazine office near you in need of an instant renovation by suicide vest? Then you can leach off our BBC for nothing watching endless talking heads talking geopolitics, rather than what to do with your demented grandmas gift of a bootleg Russell Howard DVD. 

3 minutes ago, luke swarm said:

I'm not reading all that LCS, like Mr Trump I need my cunt facts in haiku or picture form. 

My apologies Luke, I realise the longest book in Wolverhampton Civic Library is a pamphlet on the cultural highlights of the Black Country. Those of us not living in caves and picking our gormless arses like Barry from Auf Weidersehen use things called words to form an argument. Sometimes a thought more complex than “do yaw wanna go down the Bullring, bab?” might take a paragraph or too. I will strain for brevity in future, but in other settings being longer than average attracts such praise it’s clearly affected my psyche. 

5 hours ago, Snowflake said:

As much as I hate the big teethed cunt gibbs I was wondering if your available as my local doctor, from your posts it wont be the usual eat more healthy your a fat cunt get out of my surgery escalator  affair, It will be a long winded joint where I may even get to ask you to look at my bum fruit...sign me up doc.

Believe me, there are many and varied ways, some terribly verbose, of telling someone they are a fat cunt who should fuck off out of my surgery. A particular favourite are the arthritic knee crowd, who look so crestfallen when you say the NHS won’t fund their surgery until their BMI is lower than the national debt. Advising them to take up jogging on their fucked knee, or find £10k to go private always makes me chuckle. 

I have just realised there is a Bee Gees song I like. Massachusetts is not awful. 

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2017/dec/27/new-york-art-penis-mural-carolina-falkholt

So if you lived in a building on the Lower East Side, and woke up one morning to find some Swedish Feminazi artist had painted a giant cock on the side of your house, exactly how long would it be before you shot down to Home Depot for a tin of emulsion and went to town on this Cuntstains’ handiwork?

What is it with these artist types dawbing their paint everywhere in a desperate urge for controversy? If it’s fame or infamy you want, try this phallic art on the Washington Monument or a Minaret near you and wait for the press to show up in full outrage mode before you even finish the preliminary sketch of the glans. Otherwise, stop going after the media teet you crave in Bono-esque style, get a fucking canvas on a fucking easel with some fucking watercolours and do some proper fucking work. 

“I usually paint giant vaginas, pussies and cunts” said the artist. Yes love, of course you do. 

Banksy is a Vandal Cunt. 

Finally we have proof that Root is the worst Captain since Mohammed Atta, and I don’t give a fuck if it’s his birthday. We need the Convicts skittling quick so who gets a go turning his arm over......Dawid Malan. I know it’s a shitty drop-in pitch, it’s forecast heavy rain again in a hour, and the Aussies have mentally checked out, but Jesus Christ man, can we at least pretend to go down fighting?

I reckon I could knock Malan for at least six hundred while blindfolded, pissed, and using a fucking bamboo garden cane.

Such incompetence boils my piss. Time to bring them home, Economy Class, as Bob Willis once said. 

And when you rise in the morning sun....you’re still a Cunt of the highest order. 

I never did like this Cunt, ever since he and his malodorous brothers took musical inspiration from the Aberfan landslide to come up with the mangled mess that is New York Mining Disaster 1941. But now he’s allowing one of the Windsors to doff him on the shoulders, he’s promoted himself to mega Cunt. He and his retard brothers spent their entire career behind the curve, attempting to piggyback the creativity of others. Odessa should have been a death knell, being half amphetamine-inspired psychedelic wet dream and half Alan Partridge nonsense. Yet even then the Cunt wouldn’t die, shamelessly plagiarising the cream of Motown to develop that beyond-parody falsetto and wail about Nights On Broadway. Then came his moment of Cunt immortality, bashing out a few lazy fag-packet efforts to form the backing track for a low-rent B-movie in which the worlds’ second favourite Scientologist weirdo gets a white suit on and struts about a gay nightclub, in between gang-raping a woman by proxy and loitering about like a pisspoor version of the Jets from West Side Story. Saturday Night Fever was an utter abomination, a backstreet abortion of an album that killed the mainstream disco movement just as it began to show promise.

The cunt grew fat on the royalties from the tone deaf and the gullible, then carved a second career as purveyor of MOTR warblefests for the intellectually lazy. As his brothers had the good grace to die, presumably of sheer embarrassment, this cunt ploughed his ill-gotten resources into trying to look like Aslan The Lion fucked Esther Rantzen. The inevitable Country music experiments, endless collaborations with bored warblers told by faceless PR types to stretch their demographic, and a frankly sad “legend” appearance at Glastonbury, all did nothing to atone for a lifetime of Cuntery. 

So, with the announcement of his knighthood and his beatification amongst the dullard press, let me be the first to say this man is an unrivalled Cunt, who needs staking out naked in the desert sun while a thousand wasps swarm over his honeyed scrotum. Fuck the squeaky Sir-twat. 

Paul Gambaccini can go fuck himself, too. 

4 minutes ago, applescruff14 said:

Well done Alastair Cook

Any double ton is worth a doff of the cap. But his form has still been awful for far too long, and there’s an after-the-Lord-Mayors-show feel to this now. As I said before The Aussies will win an early knockout, before England traditionally rally in the dead rubber games, thus avoiding a media beasting and the sack on their return, because they only just edged it 3-2 (though still feel a draw is likely). It’s an old story. The Aussies have taken their foot off the gas, and the MCG pitch is a featherbed. 

Here’s the Tramadol mule, for reference....

18 hours ago, Albert Ross said:

Apparently she had nearly 300 tramadol. These are only available on prescription in the UK. Is it normal for a practitioner to prescribe that amount to someone that doesn't need them?

No, of course not. They are a controlled drug and thus subject to quite stringent controls in supply, storage and prescription. Problem is, every bugger is on them for low back pain or fibromyalgia and despite regular exhortations to reduce/stop them, your average patient loves their opioids and thinks you are a crap doctor if you tinker. 

The other problem is that they come in various strengths, (we don’t know exactly what she was carrying) with a usual max of 400mg per day. People might easily be taking six Tramadol 50mg per day, which is 168 tablets for a 28 day prescription, so not hard to collect 300 from Grandma, who stopped taking them years ago because they constipate her but never told her GP. They are everywhere on the street, where our drug taking community use Tramadol with Benzos and Gabapentinoids to manage their ups and downs.

As for this bloody silly girl, I’m inclined to agree with the thrust of previous comments. There must be a penalty for stupidity or anarchy will follow. If she spends a year or two as the entertainment for the Hurghada Prison Officers Association, tough. She’s partial to Arab cock anyway, so sod her. 

On 16/08/2014 at 4:16 PM, CCArchive said:

If anyone says to me "Oh you ought to watch Mrs Brown's Boys, it's brilliant", I know instantly that the person in question is an unutterably enormous cunt and that we can never, ever be friends.

Number one programme on Christmas Day.

Nation of Cunts. 

Agreed. National shutdown from Christmas Eve to the 2nd of January should be standard.

I can’t wait to get to work tomorrow, to be greeted by a sea of mucus, teething infants, and people panicking they’ve gone 2 days without their Statin. 

The only thing to be out in Melbourne today is the Sun.

Root’s face when he lost the toss was reminiscent of a toddler filling his nappy. 

Ten quid says they make five hundred plus. 

Root on the Radio this morning saying Pontings’ remarks were “a load of rubbish”. He almost squeaked. No attempt to deconstruct the analysis, to reflect back his own appraisal of his performance, or to provide insight into what he will be doing differently at the MCG. Mike Brearley he is not. 

I suspect even in the face of a 5-0, the ECB will stick with Root, partly as no one else wants the job. Bit like Theresa May in that respect. It’s a mistake for Root personally to stay on though in my view, and he’d get respect if come January he announced the job was too big for him and he would in future focus on his batting. 

Merry Christmas Cricket Cunts. 

4 hours ago, Albert Ross said:

As The Festival is nearly three months away, how about some tips for Kempton Park's Tuesday meeting?

Black Corton in the 155 on Boxing Day. Only negative is that he has an inexperienced lady jockey called Bryony. 

Merry Christmas, Cunts!

1 hour ago, Manky said:

Although it is pointless sullying your Gallic sensibilities with affairs of a martial nature, I used to wear camouflaged  Versace boxer shorts in my gonk bag. That would enable me to leap out of my schlaffie at dark o'clock +5 and despatch Her Majesty's enemies while my rippling torso blended into the undergrowth and I looked incredibly cool. Read this and weep you cheese eating surrender monkey.

I thought you said you were a Sapper? So surely you meant turning up hungover in a 30 year old Snatch Land Rover, 4 days after the fighting is done, to bolt together some portable toilets for the embedded media throng? The only action you guys ever saw was the frantic boing of the bedsprings in the bunk above you as some drippy youth wept about his boyfriend back in Chatham. And while it’s true that there were a few rippling torsos amongst your Spanner wielding fraternity, I seem to remember a few highly mobile chins and thighs too, a highly unusual pattern of penile burns from contaminated Swarfega, and a flurry of requests to be exempted from the bleep test for various spurious Orthopaedic reasons. Inspirational Stuff. 

2 hours ago, Lady Penelope said:

Ape is a good man at heart.

Prove it. Biopsy the Cunt. I’d suggest using a snow shovel.