Those endless fucking benefits programs they keep making, every single cunt that appears on them seem like they’ve come off a production line, they all sound and look as thick as a whales foreskin, you are also guaranteed to hear the line ‘I’d love a job me’ but my budgie has Alzheimer’s and my grandmother keeps shitting in her cage, or some such shite, FUCK OFF YOU MORONIC CUNTS
Cut here marks on a packet of cheese, that when you cut along the line doesn’t actually get past the sealed area and you then have to recut really close to the reclosable zippy bit. Cheese denying bastards.
I'd dearly love to punch the idiots, square in the fizog, that parp their horns when approaching a blind corner in the middle of a narrow Lake district road. They don't slow down mind, they just expect others to hear them.
I'd love to witness more accidents involving these idiots, sadly, they would be the ones that walk away.
Curse these half term townies!
When you're sitting in a pub having a nice quite couple of pints and suddenly the ok ya, nice but fcuking dim Tim brigade turn up, all you get is the sound of loud braying and honking from the fcukers, and it makes my fcuking sh!t itch
Those twee webuyanycar.com adverts with Philip Scofield, when he picks that pup up to kiss it I not only want it to give his face a right old savaging I want it to rub salt in the wounds by shitting all down his jumper
The other one that grips my winkle are those ‘how clean and shiny is your arrse after using Andrex bog roll? It’s fucking toilet paper you cunts, not a fucking floor buff