Dougie The Cunt
Now I'm aware that such a monikor sounds like a shit gangster in a Guy Ritchie film, but this is one that stands up to scrutiny.

As I've mentioned in other posts, I come from a small town called Hawick in the Scottish Borders. Pretty place, population of about 12,000. I would have said somewhat backwards, but not irredeemably so. My Mum's best friends son came screaming out of both the navy and the closet at the same time and noone batted an eyelid, beyond a sardonic raised eyebrow of mock suprise.

One of the residents of the town however, is Dougie the Cunt, hereafter known as DtC. Small-minded, jingoistic, big of mouth, small of brain, and probably penis. DtC is a bellend of mammoth proportions. He's also my uncle's best mate.

It was Boxing Day 1998, and myself, family, and my fiancee at the time were at my uncle and aunt's. A merry time being had by all, and as usual, I'd had a bit to drink. Unfortunately, so had DtC, who was holding forth on any number of topics. All his opinions were of the cast-iron Daily Mail variety, ie. knee-jerk, bigoted, and factually inaccurate.

We could gloss over most of these as common-or-garden fuckwittery, until he came out with something so mind-shatteringly ignorant that everyone froze like the Milky Bar Kid had walked into the saloon in that advert. It was ignorant not in the sense of stupidity although it was certainly stupid, but perhaps the single most ridiculous thing I've heard from the lips of another human.

"They should rebuild Hardian's Wall, and put all the fuckin' niggers (the word practically spat), on one side, and all us decent people on the other!"

I heard my folks intake of breath (but they're way too polite to say anything and break the Status Quo in someone else's house), my Aunt mutter, "Fuck's sake, what an arsehole," to herself, and then my brain lurched into anger. What follows is why my Aunt and Uncle come to ours on Boxing Day now where DtC isn't invited, and why my alcohol intake is monitored by my folks during any family get-together.

I said, "Oh, right. I was under the impression that you never left the town, Dougie. So I was just wondering where you'd ever met a black person in order to form that opinion. Be honest, you've never met one," and here I launched into the histrionic, "in your fucking life! You fucking ignorant prick, I hope they do rebuild Hadrian's Wall, and I'll go on the side with the black people, just so I know I'll never have to talk to another cunt like you ever again." Then I stormed out the room, almost on the verge of self-righteous tears.

Ok, not too diplomatic, perhaps some subtle good-natured satire at his expense might have been more infitting with the occasion, but I was 18, in first year of a philosophy degree, and was therefore working off left-wing moral certainties. But you would be right, few thing are as annoying as a drunk baby Marxist in full voice. Very few things, that is, apart from Dougie The Cunt.

Carlsberg don't make ignorant fuckwits, but they don't have to, for Dougie The Cunt exists.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Thu 18 Mar 2010, 22:43, 6 replies)

I'm truly gutted
I misread the bit when you say that your parents are 'way too polite to say anything and break the Status Quo in someone else's house' as that they were 'way too polite to break out the Status Quo in someone else's house' and the mental image of an aghast host gaping in horror as his guests commit the ultimate faux-pas by sticking on 'a little bit of the old Quo' is so entertaining that your excellent post is almost forgotten.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 19 Mar 2010, 0:06, closed)

At this I lolled
so very, very hard. And am still lolling now.
(Honourable Member is upstanding, Sat 20 Mar 2010, 4:58, closed)

One day over BBQ lunch my grandmother was prattling on as she does
and she comes up with this corker: "Well black people are different, aren't they? They're dirty."

I nearly choked on my mouthful of sausage and salad! My old man noticed my gasp of surprise and met my glance and shook his head as if to say "No son, it's pointless. She's 88 and arguing the point won't help anyone". It took some effort but I stayed silent.

Bloody old people. Bring on the carousel!
( Ratsta, Fri 19 Mar 2010, 0:41, closed)

Old people are racist, it's a fact of life.
My brother has had several arguments with my grandparents on my dad's side after little throwaway comments about the "niggers" and "pakkis"

However, the idea that ALL old people are inherently racist came after my first year of Uni, I'd just come back from the halls in London and had picked up my grandparents on my mums side to drive them to our house for sunday dinner (how quaint).

We were just generally chatting as I was driving back, they were asking what I thought of the place, how I liked the people, the area etc and out of nowhere my nan (Who has always been very quiet, reserved and I've never known her to voice a strong opinion of any kind) suddenly sucks in her breath and says "I'd imagine there was a lot of blacks though....." said in a way, not that it was a bad thing, just annoying... in the same way someone would say "Well it was really warm...*Sucks in breath* bit cloudy though" after a day at the beach
(The_Mighty_Spleen, Fri 19 Mar 2010, 8:09, closed)

Ooh, I say!
Choked on a mouthful of sausage?
( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Fri 19 Mar 2010, 21:47, closed)

DtC
Nice one mate
(micmac is happy as a pig in shite, Fri 19 Mar 2010, 11:30, closed)