Month: December 2017

We didn’t care when you ran 10k last February. We scrolled straight past your feet in the sand pictures in fucking September and we couldn’t care less about your new fucking job.

News Years Honours downgraded to a torch, a CurlyWurly, a book of stamps, a free digital watch with denim strap, a vodka miniature, a Bic-style razor and a copy of the Daily Express

No one noticed older iPhones being slowed down because Apple wankers upgrade every 12 months anyway

Trump causes outrage after accidentally firing the wrong AIDS

They’re golden stars for unruly kids who’ve managed to go a lesson without twatting a teacher, participation medals, fucking chufty badges for lobotomised inbred cunts who think leaving the EU means no more fucking brown people.

The colour of our fucking passports are changing at a cost of £500 million that we won’t give to homeless kids, and if you’re not excited about that you’re an unpatriotic, Britain hating, traitorous, remoaning cunt.

Do you think if a gang of council flat teenagers had a tradition of kicking cats to death every Christmas that the police would just allow it?

One woman bought 25 bottles of bleach, and another a forrest worth of plants. I was hyper self aware, hot, sweaty and frustrated, like at the end of a successful date.

Personally I don’t agree with gender exploration in children, especially really young ones, it just doesn’t seem right or necessary to me, like religion.

We’re Britain, the most tolerant society on the planet. We have to be, the guilt of the empire courses through our veins like heroin in a Glaswegian.