Asda Jim: The Skelmersdale Man Who Threatened Strangers Over a Meme
Every so often, the internet serves up a character so absurd that they end up immortalised.
Enter James Allan WN8, better known now as “Asda Jim.”.
His story begins not in private messages, but publicly, on the Turning Point UK Facebook
page. In the comments under a meme, James Allan unleashed an extraordinary rant at another user, David Smiles.
“Congratulations, I’m gonna have your profile hacked and when I find you I’m going
to slit the throats of your children and your family’s children…”
The escalation didn’t stop there. He added:
“See you soon, you’re not safe behind that screen and when I get to you I promise
your family is dead.”
David’s response cut through the hysteria with perfect comedic timing:
“That’s not very Christian of you 😂😂”
And with that, a saga was born.
From Meme Commenter to “Asda Jim”
Not long after this exchange, James Allan turned his attention elsewhere, messaging others connected to David Smiles with the same kind of overblown threats. He spoke as though he were starring in his own gangster film — announcing that he had “tracked locations” and warning families would be hurt unless demands were met.
But as people dug into his online activity, a twist emerged. Buried among his posts was
something much less intimidating: James Allan openly admitted he felt anxious about going to Asda.
The irony was too good to ignore. A man issuing blood-curdling threats online was, in reality,
nervous about popping to the supermarket. From that moment, the internet crowned him with a new name: Asda Jim.
Why It Stuck
The nickname encapsulates the contradiction perfectly. “Asda Jim” represents that strange
internet archetype: the person who roars like a lion online but shuffles like a mouse in everyday life. It’s the mismatch that makes the story memorable.
The Legacy of Asda Jim
Since then, Asda Jim has become more than a one-off troll. He’s become shorthand for the wild,
performative nature of online rage — the way some people spiral into threats over something as trivial as a Charlie Kirk meme.
He wanted to terrify. Instead, the internet laughed, and a new folk character was born: Asda Jim, the Skelmersdale man who threatened strangers over memes but was too anxious to visit Asda.
It is also alleged that he beatup the mother of his child.
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ReplyDelete"Great read full of twists and turns " The Guardian ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
ReplyDelete"The author really encapsulates what it's like living in 2025, Raw and Gritty, this years best seller" The Daily Mail ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
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DeleteSkelmersdales biggest Turbononce and thundercunt
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ReplyDelete“Even better than anything we could ever publish — really encapsulates the reader!”
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This piece reads like a tabloid time capsule dipped in energy drink and printed on a shopping receipt from Asda. It walks the line between internet folklore and modern morality tale, starring a keyboard-tough warlord whose deadliest weapon is… his WiFi connection.
ReplyDeleteThe narrative treats us to a character study of James Allan WN8 — the digital dragon-slayer who can trace your IP address (probably), recite threats like Shakespeare in witness protection, but trembles at the sliding doors of a supermarket. The transformation from anonymous Facebook commenter to mythical meme goblin, henceforth known as Asda Jim, unfolds with such dramatic irony that even Greek tragedians would pause their lyre-playing to giggle.
The highlight? The divine comedic timing of commenter David Smiles, whose response — “That’s not very Christian of you 😂😂” — lands with the weight of a theological mic-drop. From that moment, the story shifts from threat-fueled melodrama to a public comedy roast sponsored by anxiety, Facebook, and the frozen pizza aisle.
The writing gleefully dissects the absurdity of online bravado: a man who promises cinematic vengeance in Messenger DMs, yet confesses a phobia of buying milk. It’s the perfect symbol of the 2020s — where digital gladiators pound their chests behind screens, only to be defeated by self-checkout machines asking if they have a Nectar card.
In short: It’s Dickens meets Reddit. A fable for the broadband age. A character arc so ironic it deserves its own Netflix mockumentary narrated by David Attenborough.
Final critique: 5 stars for comedy, 1 star for humanity, and a lifetime ban from Asda self-checkout.