Cuntybaws

Harsh. But fair.

I'm surprised no one has adopted the username "Ghostface Killah" over the years. It has that certain je ne sais quoi about it. (I wonder how we're supposed to say "je ne sais quoi" post-Brexit? It's a fucking minefield.)

Amidst all this acrimony, let's not lose sight of what's truly important. I'm really not comfortable with your use of the plural gerundive "referenda" here, so please don't do it again. On a semi-related note, is the term Grammar Nazi still correct post-Brexit, or are we Grammar Blackshirts now?

Paddy is a moron spud thick Mick, Breeds like a rabbit, thinks with his pick. Anything floors him if he can't fight or drink it, Round 'em up in Ulster - tow it out and sink it.

I hope no-one at the NHS is holding their breath waiting for their extra billions to start rolling in. I rather suspect every last penny will soon be winging its way to the defence budget, as the realisation dawns that a couple of leaky boats and the latest batch of suicide-prone privates aren't actually much of an independent deterrent. In fact, I'd be surprised if Johnny Gaucho isn't already mustering a Malvinas-bound task force.

This. Imagine a world where Boris Johnson and Donald Trump have to bail out Nicola Sturgeon's "Peoples Republic of Scotland" due to a plunge in the world demand for their sole remaining industry, tartan biscuit tins. That's next year, that is.

You're all missing the big plus in this result - the ginger Kinnock cunt and his hatchet-faced harpy of a wife will be out of a job now we don't need MEPs any more. And with any luck, some cunt will now assassinate Nigel Farage.

The Corner is actually a perfect collective, an exemplar of the communist paradigm of needs-based equality. However, as in all such endeavours, some cunts are more equal than others, and some cunts are definitely more needy.

Oi, you filthy Yorkshire cunt, my flight out of London has been delayed by a whole 45 minutes. This is a fucking disaster zone!

I've just travelled across the heart of England's capital city on the DLR. I saw just one house with England flags, and one pub. (The Artful Dodger, in Shadwell.) I saw plenty of foreigners and poofs, though, which probably explains the statistical discrepancy.

Reading this back it brings to mind John Carpenter's immortal "Dark Star", with the Phoenix Asteroids and the surfboard re-entry scene. I'll be humming "Benson, Arizona" all night now. Let there be light!

The "ghost bike" is a relatively new roadside phenomenon. If you want to personalise the one pictured here by imagining it says "Manky" instead of "A cyclist" then shame on you!

PS Is it just me who was really, really disappointed that Tim Peake didn't burn up on re-entry?

Would you invest a few million quid in a Virgin Galactic ticket from this hairdresser-looking fanny, on the slim chance that it might actually take off one day, and the even slimmer chance that it wouldn't scatter your atoms into a thin ring in lower earth orbit?

Would you come for me too, or do you need me to talk dirty for a bit first?

What a goofy fucking Gandalf-looking cunt. And what sort of fucking name for a hippy is "Steve"? At least that straggly, buck-toothed cunt-thistle Rowan Williams is named after a tree. This whole tinted beard bollocks reminds me of when Billy Connolly dyed his purple, presumably while under the influence of something class A. On the plus side, at least the shaky cunt can't play the banjo any more.

On a related note (geddit?) Pixie looks like a bath time accident isn't too far away now. Heroin chic is a cunt.

Apparently Fifi Trixibelle has lost weight since this picture was taken. She probably ate her legs.

On examination, "Live long and prosper" is an anagram of "Slip it all in the pooper". Almost.

Are you sure he didn't say "bi curious"?

He was never going to get an Oscar for Star Trek, but the Darwin Award will look nice on the mantelpiece.

I hate that preening cocksucker even more than I hate Gareth Bale. He is, quite literally, a giant fucking ball of grease. I bet the cunt would burn for days.

I don't think so...

With a truck driver. He's 87 now (fuck me, where does the time go?) and he looks uncannily like Gary Glitter.

A 10 foot drop while attached to a 3 foot noose apparently does wonders for the cervical vertebrae. It's a bit "kill or cure", though, so give it a try and report back.