A red hot #boxing line up including Hayley Cropper, Lily Savage and Cartman’s mum is finally here, the one you’ve all been waiting for, Prizefighter: The Trannies!
This top class field is completed by Emily Howard, Dana International, Nadia from Big Brother, RuPaul and the lovely Lana, formerly Larry, Wachowski.
J Edgar Hoover was scheduled to take part but is unfortunately dead so we have another South Park favourite, Mrs Garrison, as first reserve. The early money has gone on Hayley Cropper so far but the lovely Lana is not short of admirers either.
So grab a beer, park yourself in front of the TV and watch these tenacious TVs tussle. And remember, while most of our competitors don’t have cocks anymore, they definitely all have balls!
#Spastic #nigger #bitches #bum #moronic #spick #jew #boy #ragheads!
A cuntspoker t-shirt goes to anyone who can do better – yay
Here’s some breaking, and unsurprising news, regarding the 3 little bastard pigs and the poor old put upon, and now deceased, wolf. I doubt I’m the only one who sees the link between this story and the plight of the Iranians who just want a bit more uranium for ‘personal use’ – yay .
Puts me in mind of the old Suede song where Big Brett ‘Makes Me Wet’ Anderson sings about being pigs – and here it is!
Some of you might prefer this telling of the story though as it’s got more fucking bite to it as it were.
You’ll have to forgive the Jello action though dears, they are American after all. The moral of this story, if there is one, is that if you don’t dig bacon you’re a cunt! Yay .
The Malta Dog & Cat Crucifier may finally be exposed by our crack investigations team. The animal killer, who has been pinning crucified animals to a Mosta Church on the 16th day of 3 of the last 4 months is poised to strike again tomorrow.
As a good Catholic boy our killer took Christmas off to spend the holy time with his family, spread tidings of comfort and joy and quietly maim the occasional badger or two. Our crack team of Miguel and Clive and AnalEmma have been looking closely at the events of the last few months and are aware that Malta’s finest police officers will be on patrol in the Mosta area this evening. Yes even the the one who can spell his own name correctly while eating a donut at the same time.
Cuntspoker understands that the killer made his first sacrifice due to the overwhelming rage felt at Twanny Borg’s poor treatment in the Arriva bus debacle and will not rest until Twanny is made King of Malta. In a nod to the Highlander movies our reporters believe that the animal killer got his taste for blood as the real murderer of another Twanny Borg, insisting that ‘there can be only one’.
Come back tomorrow when cuntspoker.com will finally reveal the name of the culprit! Yay .
Saw Red State today dears by @ThatKevinSmith ‘cos frankly he makes me moist!
Now, as I forced myself into the cramped cinema seat I was thankful for the second time today that I no longer have a pair of testicles, so tightly did I have to push my legs together. I was already in shock, as anyone who has owned or still owns a pair of testes would be, as a result of this news here. Had I not had my plums withdrawn in the 90′s my pants could have been in a Red State due to a rupture too!
As an aside I must point out that there was a trailer for ‘What’s Your Number?’ preceding Red State and what I must say to you is this: If you have seen or intend to see What’s Your Number you are a fucking cunt who deserves to die. Right, to the film!
We start off with a protest at the funeral of a gay man by a Fred Phelps-esque (look the cunt up) band of retards, one of whom is holding up the sign ‘Anal Penetration = Eternal Damnation!’. I have to say dears that despite my name I found this a bit strong. It’s bigotry of this nature that forced me to fear my homosexuality and eventually become a woman in the first place. Not only that but if you’re in the business of being spit-roasted by Milli Vanilli as a man you haven’t got a lot of choice but to take it up the wrong’un.
So dears I’m a bit confused by this film if I may be so bold. It’s funny in places because Kevin Smith is a funny fucker but it’s not intended to be a comedy. Any horror aspect doesn’t really convince, possibly because I’ve seen the human centipede which is proper fucked up, and it takes a good while for it to get going, When it does though it’s quite good even though John Goodman doesn’t tell anyone to shut the fuck up or that they’re out of their element. I’ll probably need to see it again to be sure of it but ANY @ThatKevinSmith film is likely to be superior to most of the shit that’s out there and if you haven’t seen his other stuff then go and fucking do so now!
Quentin Tarantino fucking loves this movie apparently, I can’t say the same but I do quite like it, in fact almost as much I liked being the filling in a Milli Vanilli sandwich – yay
Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark dears, please don’t. There’s nothing hiding out there honest – yay
So there I was, with some time to kill and for once totally sober, when I saw a poster with Katie Holmes on it. Rarely has such a fine scenario crossed my line of vision so I thought ‘fuck it’ I’ll go and check out this little horror story. The real horror of course is that she married that Scientologist midget Tom Cruise. Sad to say that while Katie is still a fine set of pipes she’s been somewhat spoiled by her association with the aforementioned midget. As someone who endured a couple of episodes of Dawson’s Crack or whatever it was called just to check her out it’s fairly obvious I’m a fan – yay .
On a seperate note I was cunting some people off on Twitter earlier and found a few people, Americans largely, saying that stuff was ‘addicting’. What the fuck does that mean? If they mean ‘addictive’ then just fucking say it, it’s not like they’re saving on letters. Fucking morons whoever they are! Anyway back to Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark!
A fuck off bucket of popcorn beside me I sip my beverage and prepare for the film, and if I’m lucky a discreet frig to the Holmes woman. About 5 minutes in and some old geezer has taken some kind of tool to some woman’s face and bashed most of her teeth out, quite unsavoury I’m sure you’ll agree. More unsavoury though was two tarts rushing in late and gathering their breath rather loudly during a crucial and emotional scene. Said tarts then proceeded to discuss various crucial life issues right in my bloody earhole practically. At first I couldn’t make out the accent but I should have known really, they were of course – SCOUSERS!
Said scouse bitches went on to discuss the most bloody of miscarriages as well as talking about the 800 quid a month they earned as full time ‘workers’ – an oxymoron of course, yay – and how much they liked the cock. In the end I could take it no more, kicked them both in their cunts and told them that if I wanted scouse commentary I’d buy the fucking DVD! Or download it at the least. As they left crying I managed to catch the end and sneak out the back way before the fucking pigs arrived.
Anyway if the makers of this film need a quote this is it – I fucking love this film and would have masturbated to it were it not for the rancid scouse whores in the row behind me – yay 10/10!
Hello dears, Jennifer is a party pooper, enjoy!
A lot of fucking idiots at home more like dears!
Well dears I’m sorry to say that I saw an episode of this bollocks – An Idiot Abroad that is – last week and quite frankly it made my cunt itch! I did try and like it, entered into it with all the best intentions but, like the first time I tried anal sex I realised it just wasn’t for me.
I never watched any of the Gervais / Merchant shit with this Pilkington chap before because it looked just too contrived. Pilkington is a bit of a victim in this I fear because I don’t think he’s that much of a cunt really, he is a cunt mind, and a miserable one at that, but the real wankers here are clearly Merchant and Gervais.
My dears, I quite liked Gervais on the old 11 O’clock show and obviously I liked The Office at the time but watch it now and you’ll realise that actually it was shit. Unfunny bollocks all in all and I genuinely would rather be trapped in a pubescent boy’s body and be groomed by Jonathan King than experience that wank all over again.
Extras was alright, kind of charming in its own way but An Idiot Abroad 2, the smash hit sequel to an Idiot Abroad, is total and utter bollocks. I think what irks me most is the smug laughter of Gervais every time the Pilkington has to do something he doesn’t like, Gervais seemingly thinking that this a Machievellian piece of cunning rather than a tedious waste of an hour.
Not totally sure where I’m heading with this dears to be honest but I’ve taken a fuckload of HRT pills and I’m dying to fall on some lucky man’s sword pronto! So, I’ll leave you with this: Gervais, Merchant, Pilkington – you’re a bunch of cunts, unfunny cunts at that and in the name of the Great Gods of Westlam, Fred West and Allah, may AIDS be upon thee! You’re shit, An Idiot Abroad is shit, and you can all fuck off, actually you can stay Pilkington, I like rough northern types and I’m feeling rapey. Thank you!
Hello dears, Derek was out at his ‘gentleman’s’ club last night so I decided to go and “catch a movie!” as our yankee brethren might say – yay!
Now as you may know I fucking love Jason STAT-ham (american pronunciation) and fucking love films where he beats people up, which is all of them, so I was delighted to notice Killer Elite at my local flicks – and yes I know it came out fucking ages ago before you fucking start! I nabbed some popcorn and a large Pepsi (liberally laced with gin!) and popped into screen 13 – yay . Now I was a little early, well more than a little and ended up walking in on the previous showing – quelle horreur as Jason would no doubt say if he was a bit of a pansy and not THE REAL MAN that he clearly is. Luckily it was only on the credits so the film wasn’t spoiled but it was interesting to see some bloke listed as ‘Trainer to Mr STAT-ham’ rather than to ‘Jason STAT-ham’. Get her I thought as I continued to watch the credits. I was quite pleased to catch them actually dears because film makers these days like putting sneaky stuff on after just to mug people off. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving the cinema at the end of the ‘Return Of The Jedi’ and missing the Ewoks gang raping Chewbacca after the credits had rolled – FFS! Even thinking about big hunky Jason’s ex-girlfriend Kelly’s formidable jubblies can’t quite compensate for missing that but I’ll keep trying .
Right onto the film dears . Robert De Niro is also in it for around 5 minutes, no doubt pocketing a few million in the process. There’s also Clive Owen, the bloke from Prison Break, a bloke from prison drama Oz and a very actionable Aussie bird. Jason, or Danny as they call him here, is a hired killer who loses his bottle after nearly murdering a small boy. I’d have shot the little fucker right between the eyes myself but each to their own! De Niro and Prison Break bloke are working with him and everything goes pear shaped because of the aforementioned drink receptacle misplacement. Danny says “No more, I’m aaaht” but somehow is convinced to do one last job – unfuckingbelievable eh! – and then we see a nice pair of tits, albeit briefly, and lots of people fucking each other up. All this fucking people up stuff is offset by Danny having flashbacks to his Australian bird who is dead fit. There’s some rubbish about blokes called the ‘Feather Men’, a very obvious bunch of elderly homosexuals who, I think, just want to get on with their lemon party and some other bloke called MFWIC – the ‘Motherfucker Wot’s In Charge’ turns up, seemingly just to tell us he’s in charge before fucking off in his helicopter again. I should also tell you that Prison Break bloke sports an outrageous ‘tache while swanning around claiming to be welsh while actually sounding like an unconvincing cockney. Oh and there’s some ragheads in it too! And wasps!
I won’t go too far into the plot as such, largely because I was a bit pissed and don’t remember but I don’t want to spoil it for you either dears. All you need to know is that this is assuredly a Jason STAT-ham film with lots of heads being kicked in and a couple of quality tunes too. As long as you’re not expecting Inception and are expecting a load of cockneys beating the shit out of each other then you’ll be fine! Take some gin and it’s undoubtedly a 10/10 – film of the fucking year - yay .
cuntspoker.com, in association with the spastics society, are overjoyed to be the only cunty poker website to offer exclusive coverage of the #MissMongoloidUK2011 contest.
Now to the untrained eye this bevy of beauties may all look the same, but to the connoisseur they are each as individual and special as a snowflake. They’re also quite receptive to anal if you offer them a Kinder Surprise and promise that they can watch Chucklevision afterwards.
So, without further ado, please check out our feisty shortlisted five and let us know your favourite on the forum here. Alternatively tweet us with your faves using the tag #MissMongoloidUK2011, not forgetting to follow @cuntspoker!
Next week it’s the swimsuit round! Yay
Contestant No 1
Debbie from Broadstairs is 23 and has been on disability allowance for several years. Her interests include archery, smiling and world peace. Debbie once hugged her pet cat to death by mistake but she kept on smiling like the trooper she is. Debbie is increasingly concerned about the state of the Euro and hopes that the Great British Pound doesn’t suffer a similar fate.
Contestant No 2
Tanya, 19, from Toxteth, first came to prominence in the Miss Scouse Spastic pagaent last year and hasn’t looked back since. With an IQ of over 80 she has brains as well as beauty and is a music lover as well as a scholar. Her musical credits include the themes to ‘popular’ TV adverts for ‘Go Compare’ and ‘webuyanycar.com’. When not smiling and wondering around in a daze Debbie likes to travel to Hartlepool in search of the fabled Higgs Boson.
Contestant No 3
Janine from London is 22 years old and a good old cockney girl through and through. As recently as April this year Janine was wrongfully arrested in conjunction with an incident of ‘spack on spack’ guncrime in Islington while innocently eating jellied eels and calling someone a “slaaaag”. Of course Janine didn’t let this get her down and her place in this shortlist is a testament to that. As is her liking of Kinder Eggs and Chucklevision . Clearly Tanya is one to look out for!
Contestant No 4
Elizabeth from Belfast is 26 and is the only Muslim among our top 5. Life as an Irish Muslim has proved tough for Contestant No 4 but she has braved abuse and bigotry as well as any normal freak ever could. The Irish Islamic sect, with its controversial ‘AIDS Be Upon Him’ slogan – a reference to the prophet Muhammad (No, we haven’t heard of him either), often faces confrontation from orthodox Muslims and Christians alike. However, when not on religious duty, Elizabeth likes to watch the X-Factor and flick her mongol bean in the vain hope that Simon Cowell isn’t an arse bandit.
Contestant No 5
Amy from Braintree is last, but definitely not least, in the #MissMongoloidUK2011 top 5. Amy’s hobbies, as you can see from the picture, include wearing red t-shirts, wearing glasses and looking up at the sky. As a typical Essex girl Amy likes to play hard as well as work hard and you can regularly catch the ‘down posse’ boys at ‘Spanners!’ nightclub in Braintree trying to lick her white stilettos on a Friday night. In summary: a dirty bitch but a real contender in next week’s bikini section, despite remaining seemingly impervious to the charms of Barry and Paul Chuckle.
Operation Reach Around!
Hello my lovelies,
Couldn’t help but share with you today some of the highlights of the best newspaper ever published – The Sunday Sport! You may not be aware but recently the owning group went bust but was rescued late doors by some knights in shining armour, making sure that our Sunday mornings don’t have to be filled with Afghanistan, Libya and the fact that we’ve got no money and the country’s fucked.
Even aside from every page essentially being page 3 you don’t have to wait long for some comedy gold, page 4′s ‘SICKO HAD SEX WITH HIS SISTER’S PET RABBIT’. This was the touching story of Levi Bellfield – rechristened ‘Bellend’ in the article – whose path to mutilation and murder started with his, in my eyes, seemingly harmless teenage lust for a bunny rabbit. Handily, if you don’t know what a rabbit looks like a picture is printed too. Finishing off with reference to his squeaky voice and micro penis it’s the near perfect article – yay
Numerous pairs of tits and a page or two later we get to a southern police force’s attempts to crack down on anti-social behaviour in car parks – codenamed: Operation Reach Around. Apparently the senior officer who came up with the name was unaware that ‘a reach around is a practice favoured by homosexuals involving one man “reaching around” and masturbating his partner while bumming him.’ Well you learn something new every day dears . Throw in multiple lesbians, mud wrestling, top grans and britain’s biggest breasts and you’ve probably got the best paper in existence. So all credit to The Sunday Sport and get buying it you cunts just in case we lose it for good. As a fan of rabbit sex and reach arounds myself I would be fucking devastated dears! Undertsood? Yay .
Hello dears, a fierce debate is about to erupt on the cuntspoker forum so sign up here now! What is the weirdest thing you’ve put in your vagina? Well any vagina for that matter! I once used the sky remote to bring myself off which made the neighbour’s tv keep switching back to ‘One Man & His Dog’ as the blue button bashed adainst my clit. Try explaining that to a TV Engineer!
From the producers of ‘I’m A Homophobe…Get Me Out Of Here!‘ comes summer’s latest TV sensation: Britain’s Got Homophobia!
Join us every Saturday night on ITV7 as Simon Cowell, Graham Norton and Paul O’Grady give their verdicts on the abuse they receive from hundreds of homophobic hopefuls, with the winner getting the unique opportunity to call the Queen a “disgusting old lezzer” live at the Royal Variety Performance! And that’s not all! All of the finalists will get to tell foreign faggots just what they think of them and represent the best of British bigotry in the World Championship of Homophobia in Brighton later on this year!
Auditions are being held around the country from this week so don’t miss your chance to tell men with deviant lifestyles just how sick they make you feel and of course don’t forget to mention that what they do is an affront to God!
Disclaimer: Applicants must be 18 or over and unless female must never have touched, tickled or tasted a penis other than their own. Anyone familiar with the songs or lyrics from any musicals, as well as any knowledge of Gok Wan, Sex & The City or Loose Women will be immediately disqualified. While technically classified as homosexuals, any negative comments or actions towards Lesbians, especially fit ones, will not be tolerated.
It is with great regret that Cuntspoker.com must announce the untimely demise of Osama Bin Laden.
Bin Laden Dead – gone but not forgotten
Unconfirmed reports indicate that Mr Bin Laden was already reeling from the sad death of ‘Whispering’ Ted Lowe when news reached him that Henry Cooper had also passed on. The ‘shock and awe’ of this combination of events is said to have made Mr Bin Laden question his Islamic faith and ultimately take his own life, apparently in the hope that he himself would not be alive to hear any further bad news, such as the imminent AIDS related expiration of TV’s Paul O’Grady.
Bin Laden will probably be best remembered for his part in the invention of the ‘Authentic V’ food processor which became a big hit in late night television infomercials during the last decade. Not that anyone will forget his dazzling performances in the 2001 series of Strictly Come Dancing. His hilarious interplay with Bruce Forsyth was a delight to behold and he would surely have won had he not had to leave the show the week before the final to blow up some infidels or something, of which more here.
With Bin Laden dead, Muslims around the world are in mourning this morning and appear to be deserting their faith in droves, suddenly realising that their fairy tale is a load of bollocks and that Allah is about as real as Father Christmas. Already, a new religion is springing up from the ashes of Islam and, with a few snips here and there, the majority of these former Muslims have managed to make their outfits look just like an old Lily Savage number, who incidentally is to become their new deity.
Lily Savage – the new face of Islam?
More news as we receive it dears – keep it cuntspoker.com for all your dead cunt news! Yay .
Domestic violence, also known as domestic abuse, spousal abuse, child abuse or intimate partner violence (IPV), can be broadly defined as a pattern of abusive behaviors by one or both partners in an intimate relationship such as marriage, dating, family, friends or cohabitation. Domestic violence has many forms including physical aggression (hitting, kicking, biting, shoving, restraining, slapping, throwing objects), or threats thereof; sexual abuse; emotional abuse; controlling or domineering; intimidation; stalking; passive/covert abuse (e.g., neglect); and economic deprivation. Domestic violence may or may not constitute a crime, depending on local statutes, severity and duration of specific acts, and other variables. Alcohol consumption and mental illness can be co-morbid with abuse, and present additional challenges when present alongside patterns of abuse.
As a woman of a certain age I am shocked and appalled by the sewer that we live in these days. Times change so quickly and before you know it you’ve unwittingly made another faux pas in this politically correct cesspit of a culture. Ron Atkinson can tell you how that feels. I’m sure you all remember the pivotal moment, the embarrassment, the shame, the media frenzy and the shunning of a once great man. Yes you’ve guessed it, I’m talking about him going on Countdown while Des Lynham was host. While I’ve flicked my bean over Des many a time (and will continue to do so, even if society dictates that I should not do it on the London Underground anymore), the show should have died with Richard Whitely. As Vorderman should have. Bitch is 5 years older then me, looks like she could be my daughter, but what an arse! Anyway, I digress.
Two nights ago, while enjoying an order of Kentucky Fried Chicken in my local KFC Emporium, I was shocked and stunned to see some chavette giving all manner of abuse to what must have been her boyfriend. However he was no boy and should have been no friend of hers given that she shouted that he was “an impotent fuckwit who never listens and who’s got the genitalia a fucking hamster would be ashamed of!”. There was more, a near five minute diatribe in fact, but I became distracted by the latest single from ‘The Saturdays’. This in turn made me think of football on a Saturday, then Match of the Day and before long I was back to Des Lynham, strumming away in front of a visibly disturbed Chinese mother of three and the Polish sort behind the counter. The chavette was too busy haranguing her ‘boyfriend’ to notice and he was too cowed and bowed to see beyond the last hot wing on his tray. He wanted it, it was obvious to all, but his bitch liked hot wings too. If he ate the last one there’d be hell to pay – what a fucking pussy!
Now, dear readers, we get to the crux of the matter. Twenty years previously, before I had the sex change operation and was no longer the person known as ‘Leslie Grantham’, I had been that man. I had been in that very same KFC weeping uncontrollably. The reason? Aversion therapy. For years the plight of the poor chickens, the freakshow poultry, reared without feathers or beaks, with outsized breasts and wings, born to be thrown into vats of boiling water and scream their way out of consciousness and into death, had caused me nightmares. I could hear them you see, I could hear the chickens, I could hear the chickens screaming. I CAN HEAR THE CHICKENS SCREAMING EVEN NOW!
rIGHT sOrRY AboUt that. WHere was I? Ah yes, aversion therapy (PLEASE STOP THE NOISE! I HAVEN’T SLEPT IN WEEKS FOR THE NOISE!). I went to KFC in an attempt to face my fears. As you can imagine, this was not easy and at the first sight of a Zinger Tower burger I crumbled, sobbing into my fries like a baby. My wife at the time, who we will call ‘Deceased Whore #1′ for now, took me to task in no uncertain terms, accusing me of not being a real man etc. I of course gave her a swift backhander that knocked her off her seat and onto the mayo and lettuce covered floor. The ‘crack’ of the slap turned every head in the room and all conversation stopped. As ‘Deceased Whore #1′ furtively tried to get back in her seat the gentlemen in the room each gave me a nod of acknowledgement before giving their spouses a dry slap too. “Before you get any fucking ideas”, said one, as he broke his wife’s nose!
There was a time when it was acceptable, indeed the norm, for the man of the house to give his good lady wife a beating if his tea wasn’t ready when he got in from the pub. As the radical feminist that I am now I long for a return to those days. I have such fond memories of deliberately ‘forgetting’ to put the dinner on for the first Mr H (who I married just after my op), safe in the knowledge that he’d blacken my left eye to match my right one. Back then men were men, children and chickens were seen and not heard, and us women got nailed up the shitter whether we wanted it or not – and legally too, happy days! Not any more though. That poor man in KFC had no such recourse in this vile age of ours. That’s why I kicked his bitch in the cunt til she bled instead, not that the prick was grateful!
Fear not though readers, as some good came of my night in the cells – a chance meeting with a muslim gentleman named Rashid. Now I have no truck for his islamic fairy tale – indeed, I would have happily told Rashid that Allah was a goat blowing, bacon sandwich eating paedophile but as I know she doesn’t exist I didn’t need to! However, some sense has prevailed as it turns out that you can stone your wife to death in Rashid’s country. Rashid had to carry out that very act himself after he discovered his wife had been raped, the adulterous whore! Obviously they bring it on themselves showing off so much eyelid to any Tom, Dick or Harry. Unfortunately for Rashid he’d forgotten he was in Bradford and not Baghdad when he killed Mrs R. So, things are looking up readers and you know what to do, if you want to continue to beat your missus then convert to Islam, but remember that your KFC must be halal from now on. CAN YOUR HEAR THEM? I CAN! CAN YOU HEAR THE CHICKENS SCREAMING?!
Night Rashid, take care.
Dead arse bandit. Loves the cock, err…sorry loved.
From the BBC
At the Old Bailey today a jury found two people guilty of killing renowned chutney ferret, Ian Baynham, in Trafalgar Square in 2009. The pair, Joel Alexander and Ruby Thomas, reportedly killed the 62 year old civil servant in a vicious attack consisting of hair pulling, using colourful language and making hurtful remarks. The accused had apparently previously subjected the deceased to a tirade of homophobic taunts claiming “he be vexing me long time bruv’ and that “he is a poof, innit”.
It is not known how the pair knew Mr Baynham was ‘one of those’ but unconfirmed internet reports suggest that prior to his attack Mr Baynham had been attempting to violate some of the Trafalgar Square pigeons. Other sources claim that the deceased had asked a passing Japanese tourist to “nosh him off for a quid” and then followed up by telling a Rastafarian that he’d had “more cock than you’ve had hot dinners”.
Ruby Thomas – Both Pipes?
The defendants will be sentenced in the new year. Following the guilty verdict being announced many observers were still undecided as to whether or not Ruby Thomas was a ‘dual pipe scenario’ or otherwise. A source from Scotland Yard, who wished to remain anonymous, said “…while I’d like to do Ruby up the wrong’un, and I reckon she’d like it too, I’d be a bit scared of her murdering me in my sleep afterwards”. Sentiments there, I’m sure you’ll agree, that will offer some crumbs of comfort to Mr Baynham’s loved ones.
Do you want Jesus to have suffered on the cross in vain? No me neither so get downloading Kunt & The Gang’s ‘Use My Arse As A Cunt’ now and help it penetrate the Amazon top 20 downloads for the week. Go on, be a festive cunt or fuck off!
Imagine this: it’s the 90′s, ‘Steam’ by East 17 is playing on the radio and Roy Walker’s never popular ‘Catchphrase’, dubbed into Spanish, has just finished on the telly. A week previously I was Leslie Grantham, otherwise known as Eastender’s ‘Dirty Den’, yet somehow I found myself at the Olympic Games in Barcelona, no longer Leslie and no longer having a penis. The operation was a sucess and I had become Eileen Homophobe, ‘Eileen’ after my grandmother and ‘Homophobe’ due to my fear of homosexuals. I was scared of spiders too but ‘Eileen Arachnaphobe’ just doesn’t have the same ring. Besides, ‘Arachnaphobe’ is also 3 characters too long to fit on the back of an England football shirt should I have got the call up. The doctor’s told me to wait until at least two months had passed before I gave my new vagina a test drive but that was never going to happen. And so it came to pass, the day before the men’s 100 metres final at the Barcelona Olympic games, I was getting the granny smashed out of me by Linford Christie. I know what you’re saying to yourselves, “Why didn’t she start off gently with a nice Japanese gentleman?”, and right now I wish I had given that Linford wrecked me from inside out. At the time though I don’t think there’s many ladies who’d pass up the chance of some Christie ‘black and decker’ action, he had a monster tool and he knew how to use it – mainly by banging it nuts deep in my guts while I squealed like a piggy.
Linford of course went on to win Olympic gold while I wasn’t able to walk properly for a month, my beautiful new pussy completely ruined. Linford felt terribly guilty and offered to sell his gold medal to cover my repair bill – twenty thousand fucking quid! “No Linford”, said I, “I’m sure you’ll think of another way to repay me. I’ll suck off a few spicks while I’m here, that should cover the doctors’ fees. Give me a call some day big boy.” And with that he was gone. I sucked off a few spicks, got my fanny re-upholstered, and returned to blighty to live my new life as a woman and contributor to CuntsPoker.com – the foremost Cunts & Poker website in Uttoxeter, if not the world!
Nearly 20 years, and two new tuppences later, I’d almost completely forgotten the incident when out of the blue Linford called me! “I’m going to be on ‘I’m A Celebrity”, he said, “if you come on with me we’ll make a right mint, I’ll have repaid my debt to you, you’ll have a fully flexible new kebab and the public will have forgotten that I took more drugs than all the Happy Mondays put together.”
To Be Continued…
Turn to the Heavy Fucking Metal page to hear the complete opus, add me on facebook or go to cuntspoker.com for the new forum!