Lawyers. Bankers. Politicians. Hipsters. Women that read vacuous gossip magazines. People that overuse the word “like” in sentences when like, they like, speak (especially like, Americans). People that use hashtags as if they’re actual things because of fucking Twitter (#Cunts). Scott Pilgrim fans. Hunters. People that watch David Lynch films. White guys with dreadlocks. People that say “Epic Win” and “Epic Fail”. Nerdy gamers that “boost” online to acquire trophies/achievements instead of getting them naturally by just playing the fucking game. Guys that wear skinny jeans that look like they’ve been painted on their skinny chicken legs. The Hollywood executives that cancelled Eureka and probably Community. These people are all cunts.
You see, the world is full of cunts. You might even say the planet earth is just one giant planetary cunt. And yet, the preceding paragraph didn’t even scratch the surface on the amount of cunts that inhabit this floating sphere, which is why it’s necessary to award those most magnificently cunty of cunts for their very cuntyness in what I’ve titled the ‘2011 Cunt of the Year awards’, or the Cunties for short. In this article I will award the cuntiest people and things the year had to offer. Each winner, be it a cunty person or a cunty thing, receives the following prestigious accolade acknowledging their incredible contribution to the overall cuntyness of 2011:
If you haven’t already read the precursor to this article where I look back at the year 2011, then read that HERE. Go on, I’ll wait.
Done? Good. Then without further adieu, here are the award winning cunts of 2011!
Cunty TV show of the year: Deal or No Deal (UK)
Facing stiff competition from the ever-cunty Two and a Half Men and Jersey Shore, the UK edition of Deal or No Deal fully deserves the opening award for being the most insufferable puddle of rhinoceros piss to ever contaminate television screens. Firstly, there’s the concept: someone chooses a box to open from a selection of boxes……and that’s it. Each box has randomly assigned amounts of money inside, of which the contestant loses the chance to win when opened. It’s completely random. And viewers lap this shit up like it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. People watch other people opening boxes, glued to the fucking screen. Every. Fucking. Day. CUNTS!
Secondly there’s the host Noel Edmonds. If ever I wanted to invent time travel for the solitary reason that I could covertly infiltrate a Nazi concentration camp and trick a soldier into letting me throw someone in the oven, Noel would be the reason. His cheesy voice and bland personality; his ridiculous lion’s mane haircut that looked lame back in the 1970’s, let alone now; his unfunny little asides to the “banker” as if he’s a comedy genius; his forced melodrama during the show. Every time I see him I hope that after the show he gets sodomised by Mr. Blobby in the dressing room. CUNT!
I even heard Edmonds on this Godforsaken show describe it as tactical. How the FUCK does this game involve anything remotely resembling tactics? You open a fucking box. Then you repeat that action until all boxes have been opened. It’s FUCKING RANDOM. Then they play the dramatic music over the studio speakers to further enhance the overall cuntyness. Oooh, such tension! And all the other contestants wish each other luck and are all emotionally invested in each other’s success. Why do they give a fuck? If it was me opening a box for them I’d say I hope it’s £250,000 inside and that they go home with a fucking fiver and then get mugged on the way home so they actually have less money with them than when they left the house to begin with. Plus the other contestants apologize or accept praise if their assigned box has a high or a small amount in it, despite the fact that they have no control over the amount inside their box! CUNTS!
I’d like to pop out one of the boxes one episode and kick Edmonds in the nuts. It’s the ultimate show that’s made by cunts, starring cunts, for cunts, and thusly, deserves the award more than any ever show.
Cunty movie of the year: Twilight: Breaking Dawn
Remember when the vampire genre used to be a staple of horror? Remember when vampires were portrayed as vicious, malevolent, treacherous and evil figures that seduced their prey before violently sinking razor sharp fangs into their necks and feeding on their life essence? Remember when vampires were legitimately frightening? Remember when they weren’t metrosexual emo pussies?
Yeah, those days are long fucking gone, thanks partially to the general emasculation of the male gender, and mostly because of these unendurably heinous displays of cinematic feces known as the Twilight movies. The latest installment in these foul abominations continues to feminize the vampire and the genre irreparably. No longer do vampires prowl the moonlit shadows striking fear into all and sundry, noooo. Now they want to have intimate hugs, discuss their feelings and cry during sunsets. Plus, if Edward Cullen is anything to go by, they all look like they’ve had their faces smashed in with a fucking tire iron. And is this Kristen Stewart bitch supposed to be considered attractive? I’d rather fuck a toaster.
The opposite of this award goes to Drive, one of the coolest movies I’ve ever seen and definitely the best film of the year. Breaking Dawn on the other hand is a film that appeals only to ugly overweight bitches, moronic tween girls and raving queers. And they’re all cunts. If you like this movie, you’re a cunt too.
Cunty musician of the year: Diddy/Puff Daddy/Whatever the fuck this douche bag calls himself now
P.Daddy, Poofy, Diddy Kong, whatever the hell he’s called now, fucking sucks. There are some terrible rappers out there, but none on the outstandingly cunty level of Mr. Sean Combs. Kanye West is equally as cunty, but not as bad a rapper. Not only is Diddy the worst rapper to ever rhyme over a beat on a professional level, but is a multi-millionaire for doing so. The conceited, egocentric and self-proclaimed “Bad Boy” not only produces awful music, but is involved in equally abominable clothing lines, a “man’s perfume” range and reality shows that cunts all over America, especially the “ghetto is cool” entertainment media and dumbass, easily-influenced suburban white kids lap up like the sheep they are. A king cunt, beloved by cunts. Only Lady Gaga and Rhianna come close in this category, the latter for the primary reason that her entire appeal is based around blatant, unrestrained sex. She might as well have a minge for a face, then oblivious parents might actually realize just exactly what their kids are listening to and why their 12 year old daughter has more sexual experience than they do.
What ever happened to good hip hop, you know, like that classic album Mr T released Mr. T’s Commandments?
That was actually better than Last Train to Paris. And it’s true, the Bible does indeed make it clear that you have Mr. T to fear. It’s in there, trust me.
Cunty sportsman of the year: John Terry
On the football field, the Chelsea and England football captain is a perpetual warrior with unwavering dedication, a proud leader of men and a tremendous defender. Off the field, he’s a monumental cunt. With the dead eyes of a seasoned insomniac, no one else in the sports world deserves this award more than everyone’s favorite football pikey, JT.
When not shagging other player’s wives behind their back or fueling a massive gambling addiction, Terry likes nothing more than racially abusing black players on the pitch, as he allegedly did recently with Anton Ferdinand. In Terry’s defense (see what I did there), technically what he said was true. He called Ferdinand a “black cunt”. Well, Anton is black. And despite not winning an award here, he’s also quite clearly a cunt. Hence, “black cunt”. And Terry’s a straight talking guy. He’s always called a spade a spade.
Some might say Terry’s simply had enough of defending crosses and now just wants to burn them. Though he didn’t do himself any favours in a recent training session when he misunderstood some instructions and dribbled the ball around Drogba, Ramires and Ashley Cole, which led to manager Villas-Boas shouting “No, John! I said dribble around the CONES!”
Racist or nay, Terry comes from a family of crass mongoloids, with his crack-dealing dad, kleptomaniac mother and brother Paul Terry that shares John’s knack for extramarital shenanigans. And with a family like that, it’s no wonder that someone like JT wins sports cunt of the year.
Public cunts of the year: Clipboard charity workers
This award goes out to every cunt that’s tried to accost me when I’m walking along the street with their fucking clipboard in hand, prepared to ask me redundant questions about whether I want to donate money to their useless fucking charities. No, I’m not interested in donating money to anorexic Ethiopians. They should just eat all the flies on their heads. BBQ ‘em, bit of salt, done. Plus the pound coin in my pocket’s getting me a delicious Smarties McFlurry. No, I have no desire to give money to your charity for midgets with ironically oversized heads that keep falling over when they walk due to their hilarious disproportion. Fuck off!
These people are like zombies in Dawn of the Dead. They keep spreading. When I see one of these fucks in the street I refuse to even acknowledge their existence, and I avoid them as if they’re Freddy Mercury with his AIDS-ridden cock in his hand. I should just carry a sign with me that reads “NOT INTERESTED YOU CUNT” and hold it up every time one of these fiends tries to make eye contact with me. Well done guys, you deserve this award.
Unfunniest cunt of the year: Kevin James in Zookeeper
Kevin James is about as funny as testicular cancer, yet this wasn’t always the case. He was reasonably humorous in his old sitcom King of Queens but then something happened, some kind of grotesque transformation from funny fat man to unfunny fat cunt. He also exudes an air of corpulent smugness, as if to say “I know this shit I’m making is terrible, and I’m being paid millions to do it so I can fill my bulging belly with donuts, you stupid gullible suckers”. Paul Blart Mall Cop, Chuck and Larry, and now this filmic torment.
I could watch a 12 hour marathon of hidden camera footage from the basement of Josef Fritzl as he abuses his children and still raise more smiles than sitting through Zookeeper. Runner up for this award is Margaret Cho, whose fanbase can only logically include heavily stoned lesbians and special needs children that’ll laugh at anything. She also looks like she died and was brought back to life three times. Good-looking Oriental chicks are the most attractive in the world, which makes this ugly bitch even worse.
Cunty moment of the year: The Royal Wedding
There was no cuntier moment all year long than the public wedding of William and Kate, and the mass hysteria that surrounded it. TV stations across the globe cancelled their originally scheduled programming to air this overblown, ostentatious puddle of wank, while in England, the country stopped in its tracks to embrace the equine prince and his bride to be as if it were actually an important event. CUNTS!
Cunty lifetime achievement award: Steven Seagal
Readers of my humble little blog will already know how I feel about Fat Stevie (https://theflyingguillotine.wordpress.com/2011/08/17/the-ridiculousness-of-steven-seagal-part-1/) and the bloated bigamist could easily win ‘Cunt of the year’ for 2011 on his recent foray into the world of MMA training and typically absurd post-UFC interviews (and those yellow shades), but this award is far more substantial than that. This is a lifetime achievement award, given to the rotund whale for a lifetime of being the worlds most hilarious and ricockulous cunt. Try thinking of one, just one human on this planet or even a human that has ever lived that’s more of a cunt than Seagal. You just can’t. Because it doesn’t exist.
A lifetime of grotesque narcissism, disregard for weight or personal appearance, misogyny, absurd “hair”, pathological lies, attempts at transforming into different ethnicities, atrocious acting and lack of effort in everything, awful music, incredible delusions, insecurity, bullying, cowardice and pseudo-mysticism all mean that no one deserves this award more than you, Sensei, you glorious, glorious cunt. Just try not to eat or rape your sex slaves with it.
Cunt of the year:
This is the big one, folks! An award for someone more annoying than the angry sun level in Super Mario Bros. 3, more insufferable than a room full of Jewish criminal defense lawyers, more cunty than a Madonna house party. The nominees are Donald Trump, Floyd Mayweather, Rupert Murdoch, Barack Obama, Lindsay Lohan, Kim Kardashian, The Pope, Danny Dyer, George Lucas, Sean Penn, Sarah Palin, Justin Beiber, James Corden, the entire cast of the Jersey Shore and Lady Gaga. And the winner is…DANNY DYER!
Despite perhaps being somewhat of an underdog in that list of remarkable cunts, there is no one more deserving of this distinguished award than England’s biggest, most notorious chav Neanderthal himself, Daniel John Dyer. The East London simpleton is human excrement, with all the sophistication and social grace of an anal wart, and all the intellectual capacity of a mentally-challenged cockroach. Renowned throughout the UK for being the thickest celebrity around and for making the most asinine and unintentionally hilarious movies in the world next to Steven Seagal, Dyer solidifies himself as cunt of the year by frequently attending D-level celebrity events and engaging in as much hooliganism as his schedule will allow. He’s always clad in the finest chav-du-jour Burberry and Ben Sherman and consistently exuding the lack of class and lowlife attitude that a propa ‘ard geeza should, walking as if he’s wading through jelly and talking like he’s just been the victim of a swift lobotomy.
Even though I’d literally rather have Susan Boyle sit on my face and suffocate me than watch a Danny Dyer “film”, there are some gems out there that you may wish to put yourself through if you’re a fan of bad cinema. The Football Factory and Dead Man Running rank as his most hilariously dreadful.
Not content with being the World’s Worst Actor tm, Dyer continues to embarrass himself with numerous gormless TV shows, such as Danny Dyer’s Real Football Factories, Danny Dyer’s Deadliest Men and probably the funniest of the lot, Danny Dyer: I believe in UFO’s where he eloquently refers to potential extraterrestrial life as “that mob up there”. Look them up on YouTube, folks!
Dyer is a right cockernee geeza, awight, and if ya disagree he’ll come round yer manor and open up yer fackin’ canista, ya MUG! Congratulations Danny, you’re the biggest cunt of 2011. And 2010. And 2009, actually. Hell, the whole decade.
So there you have it, a celebration of the finest cunts 2011 had to offer. As for next year, who knows? However I do predict this time next year we’ll all be marveling at the comeback of Mel Gibson and hopefully, finally the death of Lindsay Lohan. There’s no way that coke-addled whore is making it another 12 months. No fucking way. Maybe 2012 will bring us ever closer to the hoverboards and flying cars reality of Back to the Future Part 2 (only a few years to go, buttheads!). And without a shadow of a doubt, Steven Seagal will make a complete fool of himself, as always.
Oh, and the world will end too. I almost forgot about that.