The Daily Jerk

Archive for June, 2010

Guest Post: Trams – the dim f**wits that use them!

by on Jun.30, 2010, under Guest Posts

Okay some simple rules for catching a tram (and all public transport but i avoid the rest for reasons of future rants).

1. Wait until people get off till you get on. Simple bloody everyday courtesy, and yes i will kick you in the shin Ms IhavetogetonrightnowandhugthreticketmachinebecauseitfeelsliketheNormandylandings if i ever see you again. People! the tram isn’t going to leave without you, but then again maybe it should! And you retired types can really wait on the platform a few more seconds!

2. Phone plus public transport means you are a tosspot. We, and by that i obviously I mean I, don’t need to hear how stupid you are as you talk loudly to your lover, family member or the latest 0055 number you subscribe to. Its why they invented text messages so I don’t have to hear you rabbiting your puerile shite over the phone and when I can hear both sides of your bloody conversation there is something wrong.

3. Loonies please stop catching trams and thinking I am interested, available or able to make conversation with you. The answer is no, or more precisely Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. the headphones mean that I am not listening and in fact cannot listen as they are surgically attached.

4. Headphone users I don’t need to hear your repetitive driving beat of crap downloaded drivel you need to have on at full ball. And pull your pants up!

5. Ticket inspectors? Why is it that a person who is young gets fined when they say “I haven’t got change” but if you are over thirty, respectably dressed or a grey hair then you are let off and /or shown how to operate the machine. Hmmm. when the revolution comes the wall will be waiting for you high panted, crossword completing freaks. Although I am happy that Centrelink have some where to send you long term unemployed to work

6. Tram Drivers. Again good job Centrelink. And to the driver on the Number 8 who can pilot a tram full of people while speaking on his Mobile Phone. Good job buddy!

Some general areas we can all improve on which will make the whole tram experience better for everyone, and most importantly me.

Drive Cars.

Who gives a shit about your eco footprint or whatever, it’s all going to shit in a hand basket anyway. Drive f**kers and leave the tram to me. Or drive me, as long as you don’t talk or interact in any way with me.

Captain Angry Ranty Pants
Rants from the Grumpy side of Life

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End of financial year sale!

by on Jun.30, 2010, under CABBAGE, CUNTS, FABULOUS PRIZES!, FUCK FUCK FUCK I HATE EVERYONE, HEY YOU AREN'T IMPORTANT, STOP IT, STOP PUNCHING ME IN THE FACE

Yes! Everything must go! We have to sell as much as possible so that it looks good on our books! We figure that the only way to sell anything is to have CONSTANT SALES!  THIS IS BECAUSE WE REALISE THAT YOU VACUOUS CUNTS JUST FOCUS ON THE WORD “SALE”, COMPLETELY IGNORING THE FACT THAT YOU’RE STILL PAYING MORE THAN SIX FUCKING TIMES MORE THAN THE HORRIBLE PIECE OF CRAP YOU’RE BUYING IS WORTH!

The end of the financial year is a perfect occasion to have a sale! Everyone is thinking greedily about their tax rebates, and won’t notice that we JACKED UP THE PRICES BEFORE THE SALE SO THE 20% DISCOUNT IS STILL 5% MORE EXPENSIVE THAN IT USED TO BE. IT’S FUCKING GENIUS! You stupid fucks… I mean “loyal customers” will be unknowingly rewarding… uh… REWARDED BY us!

Seriously, though, the “end of financial year” is a fucking bullshit pile of crap. Who decided that the financial year should run OVER TWO FUCKING YEARS, BUT ONLY HALF OF EACH. IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE, YOU STUPID CUNTS. I DON’T CARE WHY YOU DID IT, IT WILL ALWAYS JUST SEEM LIKE ANOTHER EXCUSE TO HAVE ANOTHER STUPID FUCKING SALE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE YEAR TO COMBAT THE DRY SPELL IN SALES WHEN EVERYONE IS TRYING TO GET THEIR FUCKING DEBT UNDER CONTROL. BUT OF COURSE THAT’S THE ENTIRE FUCKING POINT, ISN’T IT. IF PEOPLE ARE EVER OUT OF DEBT, THEY COULD AFFORD THINGS OF “QUALITY” WHICH ARE NEVER SOLD WITH TACKY GIMMICKS, AND WHICH ACTUALLY FUCKING LAST MORE THAN THE 3 MONTHS UNTIL THE NEXT SALE, WHERE YOU’LL ADVERTISE THE SLIGHTLY-UPGRADED-BUT-STILL-LAUGHABLY-OUT-OF-DATE MODEL, WHICH WILL COST EVEN MORE THAN THE LAST “NEW MODEL” DID WHEN IT CAME OUT.

IT’S ALL A FUCKING PLAN TO KEEP THE CONSUMER CLASS CONSUMING BY MAKING IT SEEM LIKE THEIR LIVES WILL ONLY BE FULFILLING IF THEY ARE POURING MORE FUCKING MONEY AT YOU. IT’S NOT LIKE YOU EVEN FUCKING NEED ANY MORE MONEY, YOU VILE, MAGGOTY, CAPITALIST CUNTS. YOU HAVE MORE MONEY THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY USE. THE AMOUNTS OF MONEY THAT YOU HAVE ARE SO FUCKING MIND BOGGLINGLY MASSIVE, THAT IT ACTUALLY HAS NO FUCKING MEANING ANY MORE.

You wouldn’t even NEED money once it gets past the point where the rate of growth can be meaningfully counted by the hour, let alone minute. It would be impossible to spend that. There’s also a good chance that you’re the kind of cunt who wouldn’t give a shit about family, so you’re not amassing this wealth for anyone but you, AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO FUCKING SPEND IT.

EVERY TIME I SEE ONE PARTICULAR ALL-SINGING-ALL-DANCING AD ABOUT A PARTICULAR END OF FINANCIAL YEAR SALE, I KILL A FUCKING KITTEN, BY SHOVING IT UP THE ANUS OF A BABY FUCKING RABBIT, AND THEN KICKING IT AS FAR AS I FUCKING CAN OVER THE NEAREST FUCKING PILE OF RUSTY KNIVES. I HAVE FUCKING HUNDREDS OF PILES OF RUSTY FUCKING KNIVES. THEY ARE THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME SANE, AND KEEPING THE CUNTS IN BIG BUSINESS FROM STEALING MY FUCKING MONEY. THE SECOND LINE OF DEFENCE IS AN ARMY OF THATCHER CLONES, WHO ARE CROSS-BRED WITH BRONWYN BISHOP.

ANY CUNTS TRYING TO GET NEAR ME, AND MY HARD-EARNED MONEY CAN GO DIE IN A FUCKING FIRE, WHICH IS INCIDENTALLY EXACTLY WHAT SHOULD HAPPEN IF YOU CALL MY PHONE TO TRY TO SELL ME A FUCKING PHONE.

I WANT TO STAB YOUR FUCKING EYES OUT WITH THE DEAD FUCKING KITTEN-RABBIT-KNIFE-EBOLA (I MENTIONED EBOLA, RIGHT?) MESS THAT I CREATED EARLIER.

FUCK.

OFF.

YOU.

FUCKING.

CUNTS.


FUCK YOU.

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MOVIE REVIEWS

by on Jun.29, 2010, under CABBAGE, Celebrity gossip, CUNTS, FUCK FUCK FUCK I HATE EVERYONE, FUCKING RIOTS?!, how are you today?, MOTHERFUCKER, SHUT UP, STOP IT, VIN FUCKING DIESEL

Today, I will enter into the world of the unknown, and bring you with me, as I review movies. At the end of today, the unknown will be misnamed, and the known will be trying to take it’s place. I’m not going to waste any more time, so here’s the first review.

Shutter Island

I watched this last night. The movie started out with the main guy going to a mental institution, and having hallucinations. Because of this, it came as no surprise that the twist was that he was actually an inmate there, and was crazy all along. I was expecting a second twist, where he was really sane the whole time, and the conspiracy he was trying to unravel the entire movie was real. That never happened, though, so it ended pretty badly, I guess. Because he was hallucinating the whole time, it was actually pretty hard to tell which parts were meant to be real and which parts were meant to be hallucinations, which makes me think that the ENTIRE FUCKING MOVIE DIDN’T ACTUALLY HAPPEN AT ALL. The director was spending too much time trying to be spooky and artistic, and all the suspense was thrown off by the fact that the main guy’s dead girlfriend showed up right near the start, and she wasn’t burnt to death like he said she was, but sopping fucking wet, with a bleeding gut. Then she turned into ash WHICH JUST CONFUSED THE ISSUE FUCKING MORE. I really wish they would just FIGURE OUT THEIR FUCKING METAPHORS, AND STOP TRYING TO BE ARTSY.

I think I may have away some given spoilers there, but if you wanted to watch the movie, you should have thought better than that.

Sex And The City 2

I’ll just put this out there. I haven’t seen Sex and the City 2. I haven’t seen Sex and the City 1. I haven’t really seen more than various clips from Sex and the City, the TV show. I can sum up everything I know about the franchise here:

  • They get naked sometimes.
  • They’re all pretty old now, so this isn’t really a good thing.
  • Sarah Jessica Parker looks a lot like a horse.
  • I am not the target market.

So with all those things in mind, I will attempt to review this movie.

Ok, so when the movie starts, I assume that everyone involved is still in whatever city it is that they live in. It’s probably New York, or San Francisco. They are the only two cities in America that I know of where people can get their tramp on and get rewarded. I’m pretty sure that they’re not the same city, either, but you can never really tell. San Francisco has a bridge, I think. Anyway, the plot advances when they decide that they’re going to the middle east for whatever fucking reason that they can come up with. They probably want to power-whore their way to finding Osama Bin Laden, so they can kill him with their veritable petri-dish of STD infected cunts.

Anyway, their reasons for wanting to become sluts in another time zone is shrouded in the mystery which can only be unravelled by watching the movie without shooting yourself in the fucking face. So going to the middle east could only really mean one of two locations. Either they’re going to Iraq to help the troops get their sick-leave earlier, or they’re off to Dubai, because, well let’s face it, that’s the only other place in the Middle East where anyone ever wants to go.

The place where they go at this point could totally change the outcome of the movie, so I’m going to write a parallel movie review from this point.

Iraq Dubai
The “girls” (like you can really call middle-aged whores who look like overripe horses “girls”) get drafted into some form of tour of duty which requires that they peddle their wares to troops who really should know better than to stick their penises into disease-ridden prune cunts.

Anyway, they get shot at a bit, and one of them gets a gaping wound blasted in their face by some fucking shrapnel. This is officially the coolest part in the entire fucking movie.

They all get the sads about it, and then they realise that the wound is about the size their vaginas once were, so they over-come by getting hundreds of men to come over it. They probably learn some valuable lesson about over coming (or coming over) adversity, and then they all die from AIDS.

The “whores” (I feel that this is a pretty appropriate name for them, really) decide to get their skank on in Dubai, because they hear that there are lots of rich men there, and they’re not having sex with anyone but their wives.

When they arrive, they realise that they aren’t allowed to drink anything, so their alcohol-based blood streams start to shut down. In desperation, they kill Samantha, and try to eat her liver. They are able to get at least a years supply of alcohol for a normal drunk out of it, but due to their rampant and insatiable whoreiness, they are unable to satisfy their appetites for more than an hour.

Carrie learns about her powers of telekinesis, but is unable to control them properly, and ends up impaling herself on a large, mechanical dildo.

The other two girls try to solicit sex from the hotel manager, who calls the police. They are both thrown in jail, where they learn the truth about life or something. Then they die from AIDS.

I can’t be certain that that’s how the movie goes, but I’m pretty sure that no-one has ever watched it through entirely, so I’m probably pretty safe here.

I think that is all that I need to say about the Sex and the City Franchise.

I hope you enjoyed my film reviews.

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THIS IS RECENT NEWS WHICH IS RECENT

by on Jun.28, 2010, under HAPPY CAPSLOCK DAY

THIS NEWS HAS RECENTLY BEEN BROUT TO MY ATTENTION AND IT IS OF THE UPMOST IMPORTANCE BECAUSE TODAY IS INTERNATIONAL CAPSLOCK DAY HOW GRATE IS THAT

I AM ALSO PROCLAIMGN IT ON PUNCTUATION WEEK IN WHICH ALL PUNCTUATION IS ENTIRELY OTPINAL AS IS SPELLING WHICH WAS KIN DOF A LATE ADIDITION TO THE NO PUNCTUATION WEEK VIBE

WE ARE ALSO HONUORD TO BE IN THE YEAR OF OVER PUNCTUATION IN WHICH EVEN, MORE, PUNCTHUATION CAN, IN FACT, BE ADDED, THAN IS, STRICTLY, NECESSARY………….. WHICH CAN ADD AN EXTRA BONUS TO LARGE SECTIONS OF NO PUNCTIATION IN WHAT I LIKE TO CALL PUNCTUATION CLUMPING OR CLUSTERING I HAVENT REALY DECDED YET BUT, I WOULD, LIKE TO TAKE, YOUR OPINIONS!!!!!

SO WHICH, SHOULD I CALL IT CLUMPING OR CLUSTERING, AS CLUMPING, KINDA SOUNDS, KINDA LIKE CAT LITTER, OR WHAT, YOU KNOW, ITS MENT TO, KINDA DO. BUT CLUSTERING SOUNDS KINDA HIGH FALOOTIN YA KNOW.

ANYWAY HAPPY CAPSLOCK DAY

THEY EVEN HAVE A SWEET WEBSITE HERE HTTP://CAPSLOCKDAY.COM/

BYE, GUYS……..

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Frigid. You heard me.

by on Jun.28, 2010, under Uncategorized

You know what I really hate?

THE COLD! What is with the cold? It’s an absence of heat, and I think there should be a law against it. Sub-tropical regions should not get colder than a temperature in which I can comfortably run around in only a hat. No, not a ridiculous beanie, not a deer-hunting fur-lined ear hugging thing that makes you look like a gimp – a proper every day hat.

And you know what’s going to fix this? You know what’s going to help? What they used to call The Greenhouse effect and Global Warming. Bring it on! I’ll eat a cow every day if it saves me from freezing my butt off. And if I did eat a cow every day then I’d have plenty of insulation of my own to keep me warm. Might need a bigger hat though.

Damn you heat, why have you forsaken me? Bring on lava flows and methane explosions. I want me a warm winter.

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Staking your claim on the web

by on Jun.28, 2010, under CABBAGE, CUNTS, FUCK FUCK FUCK I HATE EVERYONE, MOTHERFUCKER, SHUT UP, STOP IT, STOP PUNCHING ME IN THE FACE, VIN FUCKING DIESEL

Identities should be restricted to one person. I can see the point of one person having multiple identities on the web, but I can’t see why multiple people would want to share an identity. I hate it when I’m trying to stalk find someone online, and I instead find six other people using the same fucking user name.

I use the name “hugejerk” in many places, and so far I am the only one using that name that I’ve come across. This is how it should be. I found a name, staked it out, and EVERY OTHER CUNT ON THE INTERNET CAN FUCK OFF. I have other user names which, however unique they were when I started using them, are now used by other STUPID FUCKING SHIT MUNCHERS who are dirtying up MY GOOD FUCKING NAME with “bebo” accounts, and FUCKING RETARDED QUESTIONS ON FORUMS.  Added with their INABILITY TO STAY IN THE ONE FUCKING SPOT ON THE WEB FOR MORE THAN FIVE FUCKING SECONDS, I have my own personal brand CORRODED BY FUCKING HUNDREDS OF STUPID FUCKING SEARCH RESULTS. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD IT IS TO GOOGLE FOR MYSELF WHEN SOME STUPID KID IS DILUTING MY FUCKING NAME WITH PUERILE FUCKING QUESTIONS ON “AVENGED CUNTFOLD” MESSAGE BOARDS? HOW THE FUCK AM I MEANT TO KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE TALKING ABOUT ME IF HALF THE RESULTS ARE NO LONGER ME?

The problem is only worsened when we get to other people. Some useless CUNT BEAST adds me on some chat program or other, because their FUCKING SHIT-CUNT FRIEND started using the same name as me, just with a different fucking suffix. THEN THEY THINK I’M FUCKING LYING WHEN I TELL THEM THAT I DON’T KNOW WHO THE FUCK THEY ARE. THEY FUCKING ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT WHO I AM, AND THEN WHEN I TELL THEM, THEY THINK I’M JUST PLAYING A HUGE FUCKING JOKE. That’s when I usually say “Lol! u got me! hay look at my pic” and send them to goatse, or lemonparty. This usually gets them off my back.

Sometimes, though, I decide that I want to know who this FUCKING IMMATURE CUNT who is talking to me ACTUALLY FUCKING IS, just to prove to them that the Internet isn’t as fucking safe as they think. It usually takes about five minutes with google to find all the stupid sites where they signed up. Facebook usually drops the “finding out who they are” task to about five seconds now (thank fuck for bad privacy settings and everyone on the Internet thinking “WHO WOULD WANT TO KNOW ABOUT ME LOL”). But still, I run into the SAME FUCKING NAME DILUTION PROBLEM.

Some people would claim that this is security through obscurity, but personally I think that it’s MORE FUCKING PROOF THAT PEOPLE WHO THINK THAT SHOULD BE FUCKING LINED UP, SHOT IN THE LEGS, AND THEN FED TO SOME VERY HUNGRY, AND VERY ANGRY MEAT ANTS. It doesn’t prove that you are safe from predators, it shows that THERE ARE EVEN MORE PEOPLE JUST AS FUCKING STUPID AS YOU ARE, YOU USELESS, FUCKING OXYGEN THIEVING, HERPES RIDDEN, WANKING, TODGER-BREATHED, WASTE OF DNA, MAGGOTY CUNT. EVEN WORSE, THEY ARE ALSO USING THE SAME FUCKING USER NAME AS YOU, SO YOU CAN’T EVEN FIGURE OUT HOW FUCKING USELESS YOU ARE.

JUST ASSUME THAT EVERY SINGLE FUCKING ONE IS YOU, THAT YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO BE ALIVE, AND BURN DOWN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE TO MAKE SOME SPACE FOR PEOPLE WHO CAN GRASP THE BASIC CONCEPT OF “RATIONAL FUCKING THOUGHT”. I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH THAT IF YOU CAN’T GRASP SIMPLE THINGS LIKE THAT, YOU SHOULD BE GIVEN THE SAME FUCKING OPPORTUNITIES AS EVERYONE ELSE. IT’S INEFFICIENT WASTAGE. THE ONE FUCKING PRODUCTIVE THING YOU COULD DO FOR THE WORLD IS TO CHAIN YOURSELF INTO YOUR CAR AND DRIVE OFF A CLIFF.

People may think that this is harsh, but that is because THOSE PEOPLE KNOW DEEP DOWN THAT THEY ARE ONLY ONE FUCKING RETARDED POST AWAY FROM BEING ASSIGNED THE SAME FUCKING FATE.

I feel that if someone has used your user name anywhere else on the net, you have total rights to set fire to their stupid fucking face, just for making you look bad. If they make you look better, however, then you still have first dibs on the name, but you must be pretty fucking retarded, so I don’t think anyone will care that much if you get killed off.

In other news, did you know that drinking large quantities of battery acid helps you to lose weight? You should do it, and stop bothering me any more.

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Ode to wedders

by on Jun.25, 2010, under FABULOUS PRIZES!, Heroes, how are you today?, I'm a poet now too

Ode.

I am feeling rather old,
As I reach that time of life.
Where my friends stop having children,
Settle down, and find a wife.

You see the breeding stage comes early,
When yo u’re in a country town,
As there’s nothing else to do,
When the waterhole is brown.

No movies and no shopping,
Lest you count the general store.
Which has a brilliant range of jerky
But closes after four.

Se everyone just breeds;
Little children everywhere.
Except the bastards who escape,
To Greece, or France, or Ayr.

But when you get to my age;
Tender young, though it may be;
Everyone wants commitment,
A house, and Holden HSV.

I may have left the town
At the age of seventeen,
But the friends I left behind
Couldn’t stop; they started breeding.

I don’t think any less of them,
They’re brilliant, every one.
But babies and then marriage.
Is the way they have their fun.

Ode.

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Combating spills

by on Jun.25, 2010, under evil-nazi-eco-libro-fascists, Heroes, Spill

The last couple of months have been rather intense, but now that the media storm has settled down, we can finally relax a little and truly analyse how effective the current methods of combating spills are. There are three main methods that are talked about. They are the cap, the junk-shot, and finally the top-fill. Now we can analyse each of these procedures individually, figure out which was the best option, and discuss where they went wrong.

The first method of combating the spill was the cap. This was considered to be a temporary measure by all, and there was a lot of argument about if it would do anything at all. It was considered to be a quick and easy measure which would be the easiest to implement while preventing any further damage to the environment. The problem was that while the cap may prevent further environmental damage, but wouldn’t address the root cause of the problem. Many people claimed that this was simply offsetting the problem, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, and doing the bare minimum to pay lip service to promises made. There was a great amount of opposition, both from the people who felt that the solution didn’t go far enough, and from people who claimed that there wasn’t any problem. Eventually it came to light that the cap and trade policy was instrumental in causing the spill in the first place.

The next method tried was the junk policy shot, where the government tried to force as many useless policies through as possible in order to keep everyone happy. This resulted in many policies which catered to select groups, but were largely unpopular with the general public. Policies like the Internet filter, mining tax, and the failed education revolution all served to further destabilise the area. While many commentators felt that this was a solid method of stemming the spill by maintaining popularity with the most vocal groups, it was the overall lack of strength an ability in all of these policies; indeed the very thing which made them junk; which caused further stability issues, and actually worsened the effects of the spill.

The last tactic tried was the top-position fill. This works by injecting more politicians into the top positions, in order to prevent further spills. This is currently under trial, and it may be weeks, or even months before we see if this strategy helps. The top-fill is a strategy that has been employed several times by the opposition, which has suffered from numerous spills over the last couple of years. In the opposition, the negative affects of applying this strategy hastily, and without planning are self evident, as each new top has been progressively weaker, and more erratic. Hopefully the current government has learned the lessons from mistakes made during their own top-fill experiments through the Beazley – Crean – Latham – Beazley years.

Labor had a marginally successful attempt at this strategy when they switched to using Queensland Rudd, which was considered to be a stronger, more flexible material. Sadly, it was likely this flexibility, coupled with Rudd’s occasionally harsh nature, which caused a further spill. Labour is gambling on the new Gillard method, in the hope that the foreign import will have the strength to hold everything together.

Everyone is watching with bated breath, wondering if this latest effort will provide stability, and reverse some of the damage caused by the cap and the junk-shot. Only time, and media commentators, will tell. In the mean time, we all hope that a potential party will come up with another catchy slogan for the impending election. Something like “Two thousand an Ben“.

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Flagged for your consideration

by on Jun.24, 2010, under CUNTS, FUCK FUCK FUCK I HATE EVERYONE, MOTHERFUCKER, SHUT UP, STOP IT, STOP PUNCHING ME IN THE FACE

Guess who? Yes, me again. If you’ve not read my stuff before (why not you CRETIN?), then grant me a moment to introduce myself. I’m just like everyone else here – a jerk. Except different. And by different I mean better. Why? Because I’m right, obviously. Do I have to explain everything? (*sigh* yes, clearly I do. Let’s get on with it)

Today I’d like to talk to you about flags. Big flags, little flags, the flags that explorers waved from the tops of mountains to tell everyone else trying to get there that they should just bugger off and go home because they clearly LOST, and the flags that the Romans invented because they were an EMPIRE dammit And the flags that you see on cars.

For years the only cars with flags were diplomatic vehicles, but lately there has been a disturbing trend. Cheap flags.

So I have to ask. HOW IS FLYING A TACKY PLASTIC NATIONAL FLAG THAT WAS CHEAPLY MADE IN CHINA AND GIVEN AWAY IN A WEEKLY FASHION MAGAZINE,  IN ANY WAY PATRIOTIC?

No you MAGGOTS, you don’t represent the country – you’re not in any way a representative of anything except of the United Unthinking Community of Moronia. You have no special standing and the only people running along side your car are your kids after you closed the door on the jackets they were still wearing and drove off to your SO FUCKING IMPORTANT appointment with your private nail-care specialist. All you are is a TWERP who has a plastic flag sticking out of the window thinking it’s the height of suave. In fact it’s such a useless thing that I bet I’d not even be able to STAB you with it if you came in range of me. Not that I’d want to of course, too great a risk of contracting some form of TWERPES from you. I shudder. I really do.

But in all fairness, I’d tolerate these things on Australia Day, but any other day of the year? nah. PISSOFF!

Now here’s a first – I correct myself. I don’t really tolerate them on Australia Day at all. In fact, their proliferation at that time just makes it more obvious to me just how dumb an idea they are in the first place.

But in actual fairness (since when has this blog ever been about fairness? Well, don’t try and tell me that I have to be one-eyed about this or I’ll take my ONE EYED MEMBER AND FUCK YOUR OESOPHAGUS AFTER I REMOVE THE MORE USELESS PARTS OF YOUR SKULL, WHICH ROUGHLY SPEAKING IS (but is not limited to) YOUR BRAIN! But I digress) part of this dislike is due to a simple dislike of the Australian flag as it currently exists. This is not to say that a better flag design would nullify this rant. I just might be a little less vocal about it.

A new flag design huh? Now that’s a REAL ISSUE SONNY, and we’ll have none of that crazy talk around these parts.

There are also sporting team flags seen on cars on occasions (and not just on sportsball day!), and the people who fly those are even more special than those I’ve previously noted. So special in fact that there is a special word reserved for these very very special people. That word is …CUNTS!. I don’t feel the need to elaborate any more. The place is full of them.

Now get off my lawn.

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100% pure cunt block

by on Jun.24, 2010, under CABBAGE, FABULOUS PRIZES!, FUCKING RIOTS?!, HAHAHAHA YORE, HEY YOU AREN'T IMPORTANT, MOTHERFUCKER, VIN FUCKING DIESEL

I don’t consider myself a writer, so I don’t think that it’s fair to call my current lack of inspiration “writers block”. I am, however, frequently a complete cunt. I am having trouble with being a cunt today, so what I have is obviously cunt block.

What a day to get it on, too. I could make all sorts of witty remarks about politics, but FUCKING EVERYONE ELSE is doing that already. So rather than contribute to the mass of noise that is EVERYONE CRAPPING ON about something which I will allude to only, but never name, I felt that today would be better spent discussing other things. Hopefully one of these things will so anger me, make me so incensed, so infuriated at the world, that I will actually end up saying something funny. Or at least I’ll end up writing all capitals in a large, red font.

Let’s be honest, you aren’t here to get witty political intrigue. You are here because, for some demented reason, you actually seem to like it when I start shouting in text. I figure that this blog is like a car-crash for some people. A car crash which goes on for months and never actually gets interesting.

It just proves that people love drama. This is why the news, TV, and other media is the way it is. Telling people about nice things doesn’t fucking cut it any more. PEOPLE WANT TO SEE BLOOD, AND GUTS, AND VEEEEIIINS IN MY TEETH. I often wondered why, in history, people went to see public executions for FUN. Going to WATCH PEOPLE DIE A HORRIBLE FUCKING DEATH, not because they did anything to you personally, but because YOU HAVE NOTHING FUCKING BETTER TO DO WITH YOUR TIME.

That’s when I realised that you people haven’t fucking changed at all. You still slow down at fucking car crashes in the hope of seeing a SEVERED FUCKING LIMB. IT’S NOT EVEN PUNISHMENT ANY MORE. YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME FUCKING SICK. MAYBE YOU ARE JUST TRYING TO BECOME A FUCKING ACCIDENT VICTIM YOURSELF BY SLOWING DOWN SO MUCH ON A MAJOR FUCKING HIGHWAY. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO ACCIDENT YOU IN THE FUCKING CUNT WITH A LEAD PIPE? WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY? WOULD IT?

CAN YOUR POINTLESS FUCKING LIFE BE SATISFIED IN SUCH A SIMPLE FUCKING MANNER? PERHAPS I SHOULD RUB BROKEN GLASS IN YOUR FUCKING EYEBALL FOR THAT “SKIDDED UP THE BITUMEN” LOOK. IF YOU’RE REALLY LUCKY, I’LL EVEN BREAK YOUR FUCKING FINGERS SO YOU CAN NEVER PLAY THE PIANO AGAIN.

You are a total fucking cunt, you know that? I thought I was bad, but you fucking REVEL in other’s misery. I just don’t think people like you should be allowed to fucking live in this world. I think you should be executed. Make a real show of it, too. Music, popcorn, splatter goggles. Serves you fucking right, you cunt.

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