Last night the television car crash that Celebrity Big Brother has become started for the f***ing last time I hope. Listen up producer f***wits the clue is in the title…ce-leb-rity. Get it? Celebrity, to me, means someone that is currently famous because they have a talent not because they are some thick, blonde, bimbo bitch. Not because they have been on some other s**t reality tv show and certainly not because they were famous once and are now so bloody poor they would do anything for the cash!
White Dee? White f**king Dee? Honestly, she’s a benefit scrounging scumbag of the highest order and when I hear her speak I just want grab her by her bingo wings and launch her back to Benefits Street.
A plastic slut called Frenchie who has had so much surgery that she looks f**king ridiculous and would probably look younger had she not buggered about with her face. I hope there’s a wee celebrity house fire and she melts to hell.
I could go on and sum up the rest of them but my tits have been done in already so I’ll just say…you producer shitbags, you’ve done it again and I’m just going to have to keep watching and for that I hate your stupid guts!
Yoghurts & Spoons. On their own I love them but when people combine them and start scraping the last slither of yoghurt from the edges I can’t cope. The noise drives me mental! More often than not the person doing it will be a fatty and on a diet so will want to scrape the lot up so it happens all the bloody time. Lick it out for f**k sake! Lick it out. Sod the spoon, stop the noise, get your tongue right in there making sure you catch the lot and stop with the mother f**king scraping!
My garden was pretty much like a bomb site all winter and we’ve finally got it in order. It’s got a patio and lawn, is far from perfect but I still love it. We can’t afford a nice, big patio table yet so have the cheap plastic chairs. They do they job, I park my ass in them, glass of wine in one hand, cigarette in the other and try not to break the chair a la You’ve Been Framed. What’s my rant? The next door neighbours! They’ve bought a more expensive garden set but it’s been covered in tarpaulin all summer. Not once have they parked their asses on their nice new furniture and sat out and enjoyed it. I mean what the f**k? I’m outside as much as I can be…oh hang on, wait – maybe that’s why? It’s okay neighbours – I don’t particularly want to have chit chat with you either, in fact I’d rather sit on my own than talk to you too but seriously what’s the point in doing up your garden if you don’t sit in it. If you don’t even want to see me then plant some big f**k off trees beside the fence because that’s what I plan to do. I’m also going to get fairy f**king lights for my trees at Christmas and they will way outshine your stupid bloody security light that goes on every time I step out MY back door. Granted, I do play the “light game” which involves seeing how close I can get to their fence before it shines. Ah, simple things…
No, your kid does not look smart in their new school f**king uniform. They are about to start at least 12 years of hell and you are sending them there. You remember school, don’t you? It was a bit s**t wasn’t it? Stop taking photos, stop posting them on Facebook and be bloody honest with your kids and tell them “you might get bullied by bigger kids”, “you might end up being a bit thick and going to the special unit” and “you have social media these days so it’s going to be a whole lot f**king harder for you than it was for me”. Honesty, after all, begins at home!
Share your shouty moments with me.