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Ten Annoyances about Modern Life.

1. “Baby on Board” thingies in cars. So if you don’t have a rug-rat it’s OK to rear-end you, you complete tit-end. If there is anything I hate more it is the variations such as “Little Princess on Board”. I appeal to all HGV drivers to run such fuckers off the road with extreme prejudice. You just know it makes sense because you just know the “Little Princess” will be whelping her second piteous bastard by fourteen.

2. Prince Charles. The twat that keeps on twatting. There are things scuttling on raggedy claws across abysmal plains with more right to be King of England than that luggulent used female sanitary product.

3. “Think 25″. Because it applies to all age related products. This makes it impossible for a kid to go out and buy stuff to make an Airfix Spitfire like glue and a scalpel and paints and thinners and such. Childhood-stealing donkey tossers. Where do they think the next generation of aircraft engineers will come from? Not that they care because their sorry social-sciences asses wouldn’t know a tip-vortex from a yak’s cunt.

4. Burgers in pubs. Oh, there are good ones but nowadays they usually feel the need to put them on ciabatta. Anyone who serves this ought to be shot. This is not a criminal sanction. It is humane in the same way hitting critically injured (almost) road-kill with a spade is. It is for their own good.

5. The idea that rising property prices are a Good Thing. The real wealth of a nation is in what it does or makes not in what land it has. Not only has my property risen in value considerably I also have Madeleine McCann in the basement you Express reading cunts.

6. “Give it up!”. Yes, that means you you Belfastian cunt Kielty. I mean as in, “Give it up for…”. Why not “Welcome…”. And Kielty in case you are reading just give it up. TV, Showbiz, life, whatever…

7. Sugar with no sugar in it. What the fuck are they advertising?

8. Those current BT adverts – you know with the flat-share. I fucking hate BT anyway but that puts the tin lid on it. They still think they’ve got some sort of divine right. Knuckle-dragging ares-wits who couldn’t organize a blow-job in a monkey whore-house with a truck load of bananas that they are. Why dear God didn’t privatization get their grasping hands off the local loop? Until they roll fibre up to my house (near suburban Manchester – hardly Timbuktu) they can go fuck themselves. I used to work for them. I know what cunts they are.

9. Pizzas with cheese in the crust and similar malarkey. What the fuck is that about? The only good pizza is one which is built on a classical thin crust. Pizza Hut are primarily responsible and are for a simple reason. They can’t make a good pizza so they continually arse about it instead. Wankers.

10. Co-op ATMs. It’s the way they take an extra step to ask if you want so as to be simultaneously planet-savingly self-righteous and cost me seconds I shall never get back. Tapir-rimming cunts.


  1. Senorviva says:

    Sadly, baby on board stickers were originally intended to notify emergency services what to look for in major accidents rather than to announce one’s toss-pottedness to the world. And yes I do have a child but no I do not have the bumper-sticker

  2. GalaPie says:

    I always assumed that “baby on board” was a warning to anyone following the car that the driver is probably distracted by a screaming kid and/or too sleep deprived to concentrate.

  3. john in cheshire says:

    NickM, I have great sympathy with what you are saying. But it did make me laugh. Oh, and you can’t beat a good pizza; unfortunately Pizza Hut make a passable one at best. But at least they are better than Domino’s Pizza.

  4. Pavlov's Cat says:

    I used to also rail against the ‘Baby On Board’ signs, as if I’m going to take any extra care because you have spawn on board than I do normally to avoid crashing into anybody.

    Until somebody told me the origin of the signs, I was told (NB: Possibly Bollocks) that they were thought up by a fireman/paramedic in the middle of Fucking Nowhere, Arizona or some such. It seems (as it was told to me) they were called out to an RTA in the middle of nowhere in the pitch black night, they recovered everybody either dead or unconscious and transited them to the local hospital.

    On recovering conciousness the woman awoke and asked about ‘the baby’.
    This was in the day before child seats and so-on and as happened the baby had been ejected from the car past well the search lights glow.

    In the story, when they looked, the baby was deceased, it’s never said either from the accident or from the delay.

    The fireman/paramedic then began a campaign , that the locals should indicate whether there was a ‘Baby On Board’ when driving.

    Some cunt then took that and ran with it , until we have the shitty ‘princess on board’ nonsense

  5. Tim Newman says:

    The fireman/paramedic then began a campaign , that the locals should indicate whether there was a ‘Baby On Board’ when driving.

    And presumably told them to ensure the sign is taken out when the baby is not on board, lest some fireman spend four hours hunting through drainage ditches looking for a baby which is sat throwing food about in front of Tellytubbies.

  6. RAB says:

    Oh Lush! So many targets hit head on! Lurve ya Nick!

    Can I add the PG Tips ad featuring Johnny fuckin Vegas and a sock puppet, the catchphrase being…

    How can a tea taste… EAGLE!

    I am in danger of costing myself a shedload of money by kicking my 36″ flat screen in if I ever see it again. If PG Fuckin Tips was the last box of tea left in the shop and I was positively gasping for a cuppa, I would more likely whip out my old todger and piss on it, rather than purchase it! Advertising works? Only if you are in the advertising business.

    Ah and Chuckles! I almost did a post a few days ago. A shameless attempt to get the best blog title two months in a row our of Julia M’s site, I must admit, entitled…

    Chuckles Buggerlugs the third and the Sundance Kid.

    Apparently our future king has a movie out what he wrote (more likely his butler) and was featured by Redford at the O2 arena in London as part of his Sundance film festival that he now thinks is too big to be kept down on the farm anymore.

    Yes, well, we’re all going to rush out and watch that one arn’t we? You all know the subject… How the mega rich are going to save us from climate doom, by darning their socks (footman more like) and turning their collars and cuffs (upstairs maid) and running our Aston Martin’s on left over wine from banquets.

    Chuckles is going to be our very last Monarch ladies and gents, mark my words. It is a convention in British Monarchy, that the Monarch does not bring in politics to their well paid civil duties of hand shaking and tape cutting and globe trotting tours promoting our wares on our behalf. They are supposed to be above politics. That’s the point of having a National Figurehead.

    Ah but Chuckles is a Green Inker. Every Deparment of State has a big fat file full of missives from the Ignobled and elightened one, demanding they do this… or desist from that. You can’t ignore the fuckwit now can you? he’s going to become King. But once he is, he is supposed to shut the fuck up. But he just won’t will he? He is on a mission to save the planet and he will (unless he gets pushed under a Landau) keep on and on, until he is removed by some stripe of Socialist Govt.

  7. Edward Lud says:

    Hang on. What about Vanesa Redgrave? Or people who undertake on the North Circular? Or tannoys on the Tube? Or stupid plastic coloured bracelets for charity? Or diversity questionnaires? Or women who “want it all”? Or people who are fascinated by women who “want it all”? Or the cost of booze? Or adenoidal, listen to how pathetic and put upon I am speech? Or the Toyota Prius?

    I mean, come on. Priorities, please.

    Oh, and one for luck: decaf coffee and the pratts who queue for it. As well as those who queue for proper coffee. And that’ll be £1.90, please, of your worthless English pounds.

  8. JuliaM says:

    “4. Burgers in pubs. Oh, there are good ones but nowadays they usually feel the need to put them on ciabatta. “

    And you can’t ask for them rare. No, they have to be well-done. ‘elf & safety, innit?

  9. JuliaM says:

    “9. Pizzas with cheese in the crust and similar malarkey.”

    Similar malarkey like this?

    It’s said you eat with your eyes. That poster alone makes me want to claw mine out of their sockets. I couldn’t imagine putting it in my mouth!

  10. NickM says:

    I also almost posted on the Prince of Darkness but I was so annoyed it would have merely abused the “C”, “U”, “N” and “T” keys something terrible. Him telling us we use too much stuff from a bloke with two palaces…

    I may yet do. And f I do I’m having your line about Buggerlugs and the Sundance Kid. He really is a profound wanker. God alone knows what Phil the Greek thinks of the fruit of his loins. Well, Royal 3.0 seems to be going well. William and Harry (obviously a Lone Ranger) seem decent chaps but the Chuckster & bros? Christ almighty! Even Anne looks like she is continuously tasting something very sour but is moderately amused because she knows you’re next in the frame. But Andy (a useless twat who abuses foreigners without his Dad’s flair) and Eddy who is a chutney ferret without the chutney. The Earl of Wessex

    They are all good nominations but I had to restrict myself to ten otherwise I’d be here ’till next week!

    Yeah, that is the sort of thing.

  11. Stonyground says:

    Charlie isn’t without company when it comes to do as I say and not as I do. Those on the CO2 induced Thermogeddon gravy train tend to have a carbon footprint the size of an eighteen wheeled truck.

  12. NickM says:

    Oh, Chuckles has pals. Now I do’t want to be despicably outrageous here but why not form them into a circular human centipede and apply (nuclear) electricity to their genitals to keep them going round and round to the theme from the “Magic Roundabout”.

    Nick means it this time. I would. I really would…

  13. Laird says:

    That hot dog stuffed pizza crust looks yummy! But I think I’d like this even better.

  14. Fred Z says:


    Google claims you invented this word.

    I like it. There are many people I now realize are luggulent pustules. I think. Can pustules be luggulent? I think so.

  15. Lynne says:

    1. I’d like to propose a sticker for boy racers who fuck with the engine compression of their cars to the extent it sounds like they’ve put weapons grade baked beans in their tanks and fitted a bullhorn to the exhaust. It would read Gormless Tosser Behind the Wheel.

    2. Charlie Jug-Ears is what you get when you anthropomorphise a descending colon and teach it to walk and talk. He is richly deserving of his royal due – knobhead oblige.

    3. Think 25: something that spider monkeys* everywhere take to heart – by refusing to drive any faster.

    4. It’s pub paninis I have a beef with. Invariably the are over-toasted pieces of rock hard, skinny bread welded together with melted and tasteless rubber cheese. Fortunately no one has yet invented a stuffed crust version, only a stuffed teeth one.

    5. Unfortunately the country operates on the chav standard now. It’s their right to soak up all that unearned welf innit.

    6. Kielty who?

    7. Water containing sugar with no sugar in it. What’s the frigging point of that?

    8. I can’t stand adverts that have the pathetically unfunny cunt, Justin Lee Collins, as a voice-over.

    9. All the best pizzas are made by independents. Even stuffed crust ones. I get mine from a local Italian take-away and they are melt in the mouth. They are also cheaper than their soulless, corporate franchise equivalents too.

    10. You surprise me, Nick. I took the Co-op bank to be a bunch of polar bear-rimming cunts. The wonders of species diversity, eh?

    * We’ve all seen them – shrivelled up septua and octogenarians who can barely see over the steering wheels of the cars they drive.

  16. NickM says:

    I use the Co-op because it is there. Otherwise I’d want to hit it with a shitty stick. They sell, I shit you not, “ethical water”. What the fuck is that? Water that can magic-up 2000 words on St Augustine?

  17. NickM says:

    I invent many words. They make me happy. I make make-up words. Of course I do! I am a mathematician which is the most beautiful thing going. i never had to use that many extant words because I always felt I could express myself in Greek. You know what! The happiest I have ever been was in the summer of ’95 sat on a terrible student sofa with a tampon on the ceiling (I was living with medical students) and it just came to me. 5 minuets or something scribbling and it was like Sibelius’s Seventh. I took that magnetometer to second order and got the graph to fit like numpty. My ex (who was fucking a psychology student from Lancaster – twat) was full of “Oh, sun-spot cycles are more art than science” But then she was doing Joint Honours Physics & Philosophy. Well, fuck that! I did the full money science. I almost did physics and philosophy but then I managed to shag her (and she was a Baptist – kerchink!) without having to write more than two essays. And what is the point of essays when e to the i pi plus one equals zero? And you know what that means. Beauty. Oh, and all my University papers were written with a 0.5mm Rotring pencil. I can’t write with a pen. I just can’t. I can type like a fury.

    I have written two essays in my adult life. One was on some frogulent git called Des Carts and the other was on “Empiricism and the Philosophy of Science”. One I got a hard-on first for (because it was marked by a woman who worked in the MRI gaff – like you know where they do stuff like what matters and their super-conducting magnets hum like the Ood) and the other was a Desmond. Indeed the philosophy marker said I tended to talk about philosophy at a “paralyzingly high level of abstraction”. I thought that was what it was about – It wasn’t about anything that mattered was it? I mean that’s physics is that. My ex wrote on the philosophy of female sexual dysfunction. Now that was contextually having a fucking giraffe… Frigid moo.

  18. Sam Duncan says:

    Another one, just because it’s annoying me right now: “everyday” does not mean “every day”. Twats on the internet can mix up “your” and “you’re”, “there” and “their”, etc. to their hearts’ content as far as I’m concerned, but this one’s turning up on professionally-written advertising. Grr.

    Oh, and I’m with Laird on the pizza. They may bear about as much resemblance to a Neapolitan pie as Tweety-Pie does to a bird*, but I like ‘em.

    Totally agreed on the other nine, though. It’s at times like this you begin to understand why some people like ordering everyone else around.

    *I mean, what is he? She? He? I don’t know that either. I could forgive the giant head in the name of infantilism, but it can fly, with those titchy wings. Stupid cartoons. I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t like the damn things.

  19. Matt says:

    What the bloody hell is an abysmal plain?

    Eleven annoyances about modern life–people who use words they don’t understand.

  20. bloke in spain says:

    A pizza of abiding memory was served at a Pizza Express just off Oxford Street. My companion was a Brooklyn lass of Italian-American extraction (think Sopranos & you’ll be remarkably close). The waitress deposited her order in front of her with a flourish & Miss Flatbush inspected it, nearly covering the bread & butter plate it sat on, sampled a segment & pronounced “Gee you Brits are so clever. Try before you buy! Yeah, honey I’ll have one of those.”

    Tapir rimming cunts = respect!

  21. NickM says:

    An abysmal plain is the bottom of the sea where weird shit lives.

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