Take a drink from his special cup

This may well sound a little heartless, but all these gambling addicts that are blaming the bookies need to have a fucking word with themselves. It’s not the bookies fault, it’s yours… take some fucking responsibility for your actions, no one made you spend your money, why the fuck should the bookies be punished, why should responsible gamblers be reigned in?

This sort of pandering is on a par with the fucking sugar tax and the fizzy pop embargo… a woman was refused a bottle of wine in Tesco because she had her seventeen year old daughter with her. What does the future hold down this path?

“I’m sorry mate I can’t serve you with that pasty, you look a bit chubby… unless your gym app says you did forty minutes exercise yesterday you’re going to have to settle for this Apple”

The fucking nanny state boils my piss.

Need me a triple shot of that juice

Jesus tapdancing Christ, minimum pricing for alcohol is back. C4 news interviewed a homeless guy and asked him “what has alcohol done to you” it sounded like a mugging. We have free choice, it’s the same with the fucking ridiculous sugar tax… it won’t work, it punishes poor people and it will not reduce binge drinking. It’s time we started facing the real issues, the root causes. People choose to drink, gamble, get fat on their own, they may have their own reasons but no one forced them to do it.

Brexit and Remembrance Sunday. Anyone who voted to leave the EU, and then wears a poppy, or posts some remembrance related imagery on social media, needs to have a fucking word with themselves. It’s either complete ignorance or an utter fucking disregard for the truth, or more likely, an act of virtue signalling to align themselves with the in group…. How can anyone glorify the very people who’s graves they pissed on with their vote to leave?

We are the custard pie appreciation consortium

Following on from my micro rant yesterday, I would like to expand on the whole shopping experience, in fact it’s anywhere you go that necessitates coming in to contact with the general fucking public.

Twice, in a lift in Carlisle, once going up and then again coming down. They stand right in front of the door, then look at you like you just suggested Alan Titchmarsh was a rapist. Physics is pretty clear on the whole “two people occupying the same space at the same time” thing, it isn’t fucking possible. So, to facilitate your entry into the lift, you have to fucking let us out first.

Most shops try to maximise their floor space these days, it’s a key measure. This means there isn’t a great deal of room in the aisles, so I make eye contact and step to one side to let the person through…. and they stop half way to look at a rack… you complete fucking twat!

I’m sure you’re familiar with this one… two men, two women, and two shopping trolleys, usually near a door or the intersection of an aisle. With a fuck load of the rest of us trying to get past. You just stand there and chat, we’ll all fucking struggle past. They seem to be right into it too, maybe Dave should invite Jean Claude, get the Brexit negotiations sorted right out…. Twats!

By far the worst crime… ok, I’m aware they aren’t crimes, but I would gladly put some of these fuckers in the stocks and through hard fruit at them… is the door thing. I was brought up to hold doors for people, not just women, anyone who happens to be behind me. I also say thank you if someone does it for me. Neither of these two things costs anything. So, why do a good percentage of people see fit to do the fucking opposite? Is it so difficult to lift your fucking head and acknowledge that there are other people in the world? Ignorant, selfish, fucking cock wombles.