Poor old Oscar Pistorius.

The Olympic Games Opening Ceremony – what channel was that on again luv? – depressed him so much that he decided to pretend to join Reeva Steenkamp in an afterlife drawn by his own hand, only this time the Blade Runner was holding razor blades instead of a loaded gun and his aim was poor, which isn’t overly surprising given that the c*nt was merely trying to drag public sympathy in order to gain a totally undeserved early release from Borstal, or the Saffer equivalent anyway.


At least Hansie Cronjie had the decency to do it properly, even if it was only an accident. And isn’t it funny how often camels in the gun staring down the barrel of a long, life-destroying stretch behind bars crash their planes, or get someone to crash them for them, or something like that.

Ain’t that just the truth Kenneth old boy?

But let’s forget about Ken and Archie’s conspiracy/rich man dodging the long arm of the law conspiracy theories and concentrate on Oscar the Arsehole, and allow me to say that in the simplistic world view of the Geebung code – the manual by which yon Archibald lives his life –  blokes who do the dirty on their team mates and c*cksuckers who hurt/abuse/rape kill women belong in the same house.

The f*cking doghouse, and Pistol Pistorius’ place is right down on the dirty floor in among and with the fleas.

We picked him right way back when, didn’t we, and we weren’t wrong were we sportsfans, for OP is just like his forebear OJ.

A goddamn murderous, narcissistic swine.

Long may they both suffer, as Nicole and Reeva lie forever asleep.