That’s right young’uns. You all did a tremendous job of clicking that fucking link by the way. Well done you. It must’ve been really hard not looking at porn or Insta for two fucking minutes.
Now, I’m sorry to break it to you but that was just step 1. You have not yet actually voted. Oi! Don’t you dare press that fucking back button you ignorant cunt, this is important!
Next you actually have to get up. That’s right, it might even be raining! Why not make it fun and chase fucking Pokemon or something on the way? Make a day of it.
You’ll know where to go because it will tell on the polling card that you still have, because some cunt with a Jesus complex thankfully didn’t tell you to rip it up this time.
Now. Be careful. It’s going to be like night of the living dead out there. For every one of you there’s 100,000 pensioners who will get up at 5am just to re-read their fucking favourite manifesto. They will also be armed with brollies.
Do not fear these elderly people! They’re just like your granny but not dead, because they have private pensions and didn’t fucking freeze to death last winter.
Now, this is the really important bit. Put that fucking ‘X’ wherever the fuck you like, as long it’s not next to a Conservative candidates name.
That way, in 40 years time, when your grandson has finished doing his compulsory morning exercises in front of your May-Cam, and asks what human rights were. You can tell him all about them, look at him proudly from your teary burning eyes, and let him know that you did your bit in trying to keep them.
It doesn’t have to be like this. Vote.
Of course it fucking is, have you been out there lately? It’s fucking scary. The silent tories are getting all brave now with their little ‘I’m a cunt’ Conservative profile pictures.
I thought I was reading The fucking Daily Mail for ten minutes this morning, until I realised that some lobotomised dog whistle answerer, had condensed 7 years worth of propaganda into a 4 paragraph fucking advert for masochism and self loathing.
You know, the kind of thing that after de-bullshitting and soundbiting translates to something like this,
“Theresa May is going to look after us against all the terrorists. How can someone who loves terrorists do that? Labour can’t be trusted with the economy as they single handedly caused the 2008 global financial crises. We don’t deserve nice things like free education, an NHS and basic human rights because the the Conservatives have to sort out this mess what Labour done. People earning 5x what I do shouldn’t have to pay anymore tax because they have worked really hard for it. Why should we look after people worse off than us?”
It’s fucking terrifying how well the propaganda works. It’s like Chinese water torture, only the drips are a mixture of tears of the disabled and Rupert Murdoch’s piss.
So I’ll stay here in my cosy echo chamber, surrounded by my fellow yogurt knitters, equally as deluded as me, living in hope that we’ll wake up on Friday to a slightly more humane society.
Sadly there’s more chance of Diane Abbot talking for 10 minutes without fucking up.
Yeah, she came out of her latest TV appearance seemingly oblivious to the fucking train wreck she’d just climbed out of.
Is she a fucking tory mole? If so she deserves an Oscar for that portrayal of a walking shambles.
Stop fucking talking. You’ve been told to stay at home so do a fucking dot to dot or paint by numbers or something. You’re not going to impress Jezza by going on TV and trying to blag it. This isn’t an interview for fucking McDonald’s.
You’re potentially going to be home secretary for fuck sake. Do you know how scary that thought is to most people? It’s more frightening than checking your bank balance 4 days before payday.
I mean, you could be dangerous. You could fuck up massively by say, sacking 20,000 police officers. OK, that was harsh, even you’re not that fucking dumb.
Just keep quiet and do as you’re told, because at the moment you’re doing more damage than that fucking personified bollock Murdoch.
Jeremy. Grow a pair of bollocks man and let the public know that Abbot won’t be your home secretary. You’d fare better in the polls and let’s face it, this isn’t for her. Put in charge of something shit like arts and culture or something.
“The fucking woman walking around Asda in a onesie and slippers at tea time, shouting “Shut the fuck up!” at her three screaming kids; Keanu, Shaniqua and fucking Beyonce.”
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to turn into a fucking Channel 5 ‘documentary’, slating everyone who claims benefits. You have to admit that there’s a scum class though.
Three generations of lazy bastards who start sweating just thinking about working the fucking Sky remote. It’s a tiny percentage but still, they exist.
You know the type. The fucking woman walking around Asda in a onesie and slippers at tea time, shouting “Shut the fuck up!” at her three screaming kids; Keanu, Shaniqua and fucking Beyonce.
They fucking hate immigrants don’t they? Because the cheeky bastards come over here and steal all the jobs that they didn’t apply for.
They’re all there on the English Defense League marches, rallying against ‘them muslamics’ with arms like toilet walls before getting pissed, jumping in an Asian taxi then buying a fucking curry on the way home.
No one is stealing a job from you, if you think a CV is a fucking sexually transmitted infection you dumb cunt.
Yes, Theresa May has cut more coppers than any terrorist, but you can’t fault the response of our emergency services after these horrific events, irrespective of how thin on the ground they are.
And in the wake of tragedy, as the country rubs it’s eyes in disbelief once more, after turning on the tele, Barry, who works on the fish counter at Morrisons, is recording a video on his iPhone to later share on Facebook, with all the fucking answers.
The video will obviously prove invaluable to the cabinet office, the police and fucking MI5, who’ve been toiling through the night looking for resolutions.
They hadn’t considered Barry’s pearls of wisdom like putting ‘boots on the ground’, ‘giving every officer a gun’ and employing a fucking ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ policy.
Yeah, our Barry, the fucking genius that he his, wants martial law with psychopaths, because that will really stop a fucking a transit van carrying three pricks with kitchen knives won’t it?
People like Barry need to shut the fuck up. There isn’t an easy fix for this shite. We can’t just turn it fucking off and on again.
Not content with making the country more defenseless than a Miss World contestant being judged by fucking Donald Trump, robbing your granny’s house, maiming small animals and letting your children smell some fucking corn flakes for breakfast.
The Selfservatives have also backed The Naylor Report, which suggests that in order to help the NHS, the government must sell off its assets, in a fucking Safe Style UK buy 2 get 1 free frenzy.
They don’t even hide this shit anymore. The Cuntservatives are more short sighted than fucking Micheal Gove’s missus.
It’s all about what can we do to raise funds now? Like a fucking smack head scouring his flat for shit to sell cheap to Cash Generator, then ripping out his gas fire in the middle of winter to flog for a fucking £10 wrap.
They’re either supremely fucking ignorant or they they can’t be arsed dealing with the cluster fuck that will be Brexit.
You won’t fucking win, how can you? Waging holy war with a country full of people who begrudge going to church for a fucking christening, is like a butcher starting a price war on sausages with a vegan greengrocer. It’s fucking madness.
Thousands of people are out in Manchester tonight in spite of yesterday’s attack. Men, woman and children singing, dancing, smiling. Happy and free. A little bruised and battered yes, but united and happy. It’s the biggest FUCK YOU they can send.
That’s the thing about progress, it keeps moving forward. You’re not selling your utopian dream of sending us all back to the dark ages very well. Where’s the incentive? There’s not even a fucking £5 music voucher on offer! Oh yeah, there is no music, I forgot.
Listen. We’d take these attacks daily rather than succumb to your warped ideology. You could kill everyone in Manchester, and Liverpool would have a fucking concert instead.
Before anyone starts, no I don’t know all the fucking facts and yes, I am jumping to conclusions.
If this latest attack turns out to be over a drugs debt then I’ll eat my fucking hat. Face it. Another weak minded cunt has thrown his life away to indiscriminately murder innocents, on the say so of some fat, poisoned fanatic on the other side of the globe.
So here we are again. Prayers, flags, strength and unity. Blah blah fucking blah. I’m sick to the back teeth of it, and no, I’m not terrified yet, just severely fucked off with the stupidity of these superstitious backwards thinking morons. If you want to top yourself eat some pills like every other cunt you twisted fucks.
I’m painfully aware that not all Muslims are terrorists. It’s a phrase that shouldn’t need saying, yet I find myself repeating it more and more. ISIS kill more Muslims than anyone else, let’s not lose sight of that.
I’m an atheist. I’m a little old fashioned in that I believe in shit that can be proven. I try my fucking hardest to be respectful of everyone’s beliefs but I can’t stand the way that 2,000 year old world’s can by interpretated in a million different ways and skewed to fit a murderous agenda.
Not just Muslims, all faiths. Like the fucking bible belt nut jobs in the US picketing fucking soldiers funerals.
From what I gather, every religion on earth is essentially a guide to a decent life. A ‘how not to be a cunt’ handbook if you like.
Let me put it this way. If you think your god is going to reward you for murder then you’re not religious. You have a fucking mental illness.
But please. No more fucking prayers, not today.
Probably. I don’t watch that shite, but I wanted to write something relevant for likes and shares being the whore that I am, like your mam.
Seriously though, I do like to watch the final. That way I can tell who the next presenter of Big Brother’s Bit on the Side is going to be by looking at the fucking runner up.
I can then avoid all the fucking vacuous gobshites in the smoking area at work, when I hear one of the gravel voiced cunts mutter his or her name between B&H plumes.
I’ve nothing to add really. Does it exploit personal tragedy with sad music and an orange hue like X-Factor did/does? I don’t watch that shite either you see.
I’ll still prefer Leonard Cohen’s version of Hallelujah, no matter how many times an obese loser with a fucking dead granny shits all over it.
So yeah, anyway, the music guy won it even though that bird who loves getting her baps out promised that little girl she’d win. What a cunt.
It’s not really true that is it? Just because you’re an ignorant cunt, who’s oblivious to the political shit storm currently smashing through the country like Eric Pickles with a box or Jaffa Cakes, it doesn’t give you the right to write off everyone with an opinion because ‘it’s boring’, or you struggle to follow it all like Diane Abbott in a fucking year three maths class.
This post is aimed that the “It’s just people in suits chattin shit innit” camp. You know, the fucking type of cunt who gives you the name of a Britain’s Got Talent act when you ask who they’re voting for.
You know the ones. They watch fucking Gogglebox because TV alone is too difficult, they need to watch other mindless simpletons watching it for them.
No we’re not ‘experts’. We just happen to just give a shit about the horrendous state of the country, the world and humanity as a whole because we’re fucking terrified for our kids.
By all means though, keep watching people fucking in TOWIE, or people’s dreams getting shattered in The X-Factor and we’ll stop posting all this distracting unimportant stuff.
God forbid we interrupt your fucking ‘News’ Feed of food pictures, ‘funny’ cat videos and fucking gym updates to try and sway you’re tiny mind in one way or another.