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This is a question Council Cunts

Stallion Explosion writes "I was in a record shop in Melbourne, flicking through the vinyl, when I found a record entitled 'Hackney Council Are A Bunch Of Cunts'"

We agree.

Have you been trapped in the relentless petty minded bureaucracy of your local council?
Why does it require 3 forms of ID to get a parking permit when the car in question is busy receiving a parking ticket right outside the parking office?

Or do you work for Hackney Council?

(, Thu 26 Jul 2007, 10:51)
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Rubbish cunts
Anyone else remember when putting rubbish away was like this?

1. Bins out on a Sunday night.
2. Big stuff down the dump.

Now it's like this.

1. No bins allowed, only bin-bags, so it's easier for foxes and rats to have a nibble and spill the contents of your cat's litter tray over the front garden. So much more hygienic.
2. Bin-bags must be exactly 13.75 inches from kerb, or binmen will not take them, stinking out your street for an entire week, leaving a sarcastic note written in crayon.
3. Bin-bags must not be put out more than 3 seconds before the dustmen turn up at 5 in the afternoon. This is a good way of stinking your entire house out, especially during those long summer months.
4. If you do dare put your bin-bags out before the dustmen have actually left, some friendless cunt with a clipboard will come round and rip through your maggoty old leftovers to try and find something with your address on it (tip: shred everything, or leave something with the council's address on it) so they can fine you half your week's wages.
5. At the dump, some stinking twat in a hi-vis jacket will sniff round everything you're throwing away to make sure you're not throwing the "wrong things" away.
6. If you dare visit the dump twice in a day, you'll be told never to come back.

How the fuck did it become so difficult to throw stuff away? No penalties for the scum who put half a ton of packaging on everything you buy, obviously; it's not their fault. It's clearly everyone else's fault for not being some yoghurt-weaving wanker from the Observer Magazine who lives in a woollen teepee and has the time to turn all known waste into petrol.
(, Tue 31 Jul 2007, 19:49, closed)

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