Le Cunt : Those prune faced le cunts who self righteously appoint themselves as gate keepers

L’evidence:

“I need to see a doctor”
“Name”
“I don’t care what he’s called, I have chest pains”
“What’s your name?”
“Maxi Cane”
“Date of birth”
“What?  My left arm tingles”
“Date of birth”
“Can’t remember but you’ll know my date of death if you have me stand here any longer”
“Have you been here before?”
“No, and I’m having second thoughts about coming back, let alone recommending a friend”
“Medical history?”
“I don’t know, I was fine this morning and now I have chest pains”
“We can’t see you without your medical history”
“Why?”
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“You”
“Fill out these forms and come back to us”
“Get ta fuck, I need to see a doctor”
“And we need to see those forms filled out”
“Is there a doctor available now?”
“Have you an appointment?”
“You’re going the right way for a beating.  How can I make an appointment when I don’t know when I’ll be having chest pains?”
“You’ll need to fill those forms out and make an appointment”
“I could be dead by then”
“You better get your finger out then”
“When is the soonest available appointment then?”
“Tomorrow at 2pm”
“TOMORROW?  Are you serious?”
“That is if you’ve filled out the forms”
“Finding, it, hard, to, speak, at, normal, pace, chest, feels, like, it’s, closing, in, left, arm, tingles, need, ambulance,”
“Get off the floor, this won’t get you admitted any sooner”
“What’s, that, light?  Grandma?”
“NEXT!”

Le Verdict: It warms my cardiac arrested heart to know that these turkey necked le cunts are more worried about the tidiness of their filing system than my health.  Surgery Hitlers every one of them.  That is unless you happen to be Edna from the bridge night in the local parish hall, then you’re right in there.

Contemptuous void of all emotion slaves to administration beurocratic heart attack voyeurism enjoying nazi Le Cunts.

(12 votes, average: 9.33 out of 10)

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Submitted by: Maxi Cane

Popularity: 3% [?]

Le Cunt : The season that isn’t Spring, Summer or Autumn

L’evidence : Let me put this in bullets points.

• It’s cold
• It’s dark
• It’s quite often wet
• It’s very often cold, wet and dark at the same time
• Going outside means putting on lots of clothes and scarves and gloves etc
• Going somewhere after going outside means you have to disrobe and find somewhere to put all that stuff
• It is not warm
• Christmas is in winter and Christmas is a load of old bollocks
• The cost of heating ones house is greatly increased
• Getting out of the shower in winter is one of the worst things ever
• Wet, cold feet
• Getting a freezing cold football in the thigh on a February evening is even worse than getting out of the shower in winter

Le Verdict : So as you can see there is nothing good about winter. We don’t get picturesque snow, we get mouldy slush. No doubt there are some Australians reading this who are saying “Haha, matey, winter down here is awesome” but then they’ee Australians and nobody gives a good hold fuck what those cunts think.

If humans were in any way civilised or had the tiniest bit of brain power the equator would be the most vastly populated region on earth. Instead we live in stupid places and have to put up with a load of freezing cold for months of the year Le Cunt.

(8 votes, average: 8.63 out of 10)

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Popularity: 3% [?]

If my name had been Philip, I would have been a pharmacist

Le Cunt: People called Damien.

L’evidence: Legion, so it is. Damiens Rice and Dempsey. Singer songwriters so insipid as to make unseasoned, boiled to fuck cabbage soup made by grandmothers through the ages seem like a tasty night out in a high end curry house.

Damien Thorn, as featured in award winning seventies documentary “The Omen”. While Master Thorne’s aversion to all manner of Catholic priests and churches is something to which your correspondent happily relates, the whole  bringing about end times, employing snarky housekeepers and owning scary dogs pushes Le Beast firmly into Le Cunt territory.

Damien Macken. Called Damo by his  entourage . Anything and everything that does not meet with Damo’s exacting rugby-playing, knuckle-dragging standards is summarily dismissed as “gay”.  The intelligent, the slightly less well off, the nose breathers, all homosexual in the eyes of my erstwhile school chum. One confidently assumes that little has changed in twenty years.

Le verdict: Anyone I can think of whose name is Damien, and if there are others they are surely hewn from the same fossilised shit, is either a sinning against music, sinning against humanity or sinning against my teenage self Le Cunt.

(8 votes, average: 7.75 out of 10)

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Popularity: 3% [?]

Le Cunt : The fact that half your dinner gets caught in your choppers when you eat certain foods

L’evidence : Tonight I cooked for myself a delicious, organic corn on the cob. Personally I prefer the frozen ones but these were on special offer in the supermarket and I’m a thrifty fucker at the best of times so I bought them. With the corn I had a steak.

It was delicious, thanks for asking, but afterwards I was left with corn and bits of meat stuck between my teeth. I cannot floss as the sensation of it makes me want to puke. I always feel like I’m going to either pull one of my teeth out or give myself a paper-cut style cut which would not stop bleeding for days.

I am, as I write this, tongueing away madly trying to remove these bits of food. Some of them nearly come loose then go back into their hidey holes. I have brushed my teeth twice but the stuff is still there.

Has it ever occured to anyone that humans have stopped evolving? Because if we still were we wouldn’t have loads of different teeth which get stuff stuck between them, we’d have one giant tooth on the top and one giant tooth on the bottom with different shapes, ridges and lengths depending on where it was in your mouth. But the overall structure would be uniform.

You cannot get something caught between one thing. It is physically, scientifically and melodically impossible.

I’m now swooshing with red wine to help dislodge some of the debris but I just know that some time on Friday I’m gonna move my tongue around and out will come a kernel of corn. And after I eat that kernel it will come out exactly the same in my poo. But that’s a story for another day.

Le Verdict : Teeth are great but shockingly badly designed, leaving us mere mortals to re-chew our dinner way after we’ve finished, the enamel Le Cunts.

(6 votes, average: 9.50 out of 10)

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Popularity: 3% [?]

Le Cunt : Keeping a blog going

L’evidence : Look at the date of this post compared with the last one. I mean, it’s not like there aren’t loads of Le Cunts out there. Nor is it as if there aren’t other people who could contribute to this blog but seem to be too busy living life.

Maybe I should Le Cunt ‘life’ although the suspicious, superstitious in me fears the worst with that one.

Still, gotta get my finger out.

*Writes draft of ‘Having to get finger out*

It’s vicious Le Cunt circle. You know. Vicious.

Le verdict : Blogs are a fucking chore at the best of times. At the worst they’re also a chore, the chorish Le Cunts.

(6 votes, average: 9.50 out of 10)

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Popularity: 100% [?]