I was going to update this.

But I didn’t.


Which is more fag-tastic? AIDs or Twilight?

Since Twilight is the biggest pile of malignant, steaming, dinosaur diarrhoea I’ve ever had the misfortune of having been bombarded with – by both retarded, illiterate, emo, shit stains (who you’d be forgiven for thinking are little more than a mass of extras from the lesser known B movie: ‘Chernobyl: the aftermath,’) the media, and countless cretins, perpetually masturbating, in orgasmic delight, to whoever decided to cast that potato headed, mongoloid, queer bait, cunt faced, twat browed, fuck basket as the star (I don’t know or care to know his name) – I’ve decided to conduct some research…

Today we’ll be finding out just how fagtastically bum loving Twilight is.

In Pie Chart A, as illustrated below, we see, through seconds of painstaking research, that Twilight is vastly more bum loving than AIDs:

Having AIDs, it's considerably less gay than watching or reading Twilight...

Having AIDs; it's considerably less gay than watching Twilight... You read it, it's official.

In the next step in concluding just how much of an ass-ramming-bumathon Twilight is, I compared it to a prostate massage.

See Pie Chart B, below, for the results of my painstaking research:

Prostate Massages; recieving one, or giving one, is less gay than watching Twilight... Getting the picture yet you bum loving sphinctal explorer?

Prostate Massages; receiving one, or giving one, is less gay than watching Twilight... Getting the picture yet you bum loving sphinctal explorer?

When I finished my research, I decided that this isn’t really enough to decide once and for all that Twilight is the most massively, homosexual, steaming pile of horse shit ever…

So, I decided to put Twilight to one final test.

If Clint Eastwood watches Twilight in its entirety, then Twilight is officially not a bum licking festival of rampant rent boy abuse, if however, Clint Eastwood cannot watch Twilight in its entirety, then Twilight is, as I thought before conducting this research, a steaming pile of accidentally spilt bum fudge fueled by Gay Pride, sprinkled with the AIDs infested cum of 607k AIDs suffering bum lovers who perpetually masturbate to prostate massages…

Here are the results of the ‘Clint Eastwood test’ as captured on digital camera:

I guess that settles it:

If you watch Twilight, you might as well be watching Brokeback Mountain; watching Twilight is the equivalent of masturbating with a rabid (same sex) badger with a dildo up it’s ass and Twilight itself is to the arts what Nazi Germany was to diversity, multiculturalism and acceptance.

It’s Time For A Story / A Day In The Life Of…

As many of you know, yesterday was St Patrick’s day, like most, I decided to celebrate the day of a Saint by drinking myself into a stupor the likes of which even Boris Yeltsin could only have wet dreams about. It was the first St Patrick’s day that I’ve ever ventured out on…

“Odd for an Irish man living in Ireland,” you say?

“No shut the fuck up you retarded wind-bag, twat guzzling, cock fiend, it is actually completely normal to stay in on St Patrick’s Day, because believe it not the only country in the world who gives less of a shit about St Patrick’s Day than the rest of the world combined is Ireland, nobody here gives a flying shit in your mothers flying mouth about St Patrick’s Day and St Patrick can suck my sweaty unwashed balls.”

Anyway, back to my story: getting into town was one of the most horrific experiences of my life; I would rather juggle a fucking chainsaw with my sphincter while being fucked in the mouth by a giraffe with a penchant for aggressive and degrading sex than ever have to use public transport on a public holiday, especially on a public holiday that is really just a massive excuse for binge drinking and for asshole Americans to come to my country and wank to their ancestry that nobody gives a flying shit about.

I waited for 3/4 of an hour for a fucking bus, when it finally arrived some 70 year old dinosaur decided that as per usual her age granted her some magical whimsical right to do whatever the fuck she likes. There’s only one thing I hate more than everything, and that’s old people. Anyway the 70 year old smell merchant thought it acceptable to barge past me in her fucking elderly cretin mobile (she was wheelchair bound). Being the conductor of bile and hate that I am, I decided to give her a piece of my mind, much to the shock of everyone else in the queue, a queue which I had in fairness just barged into the middle of, but that’s neither here nor there and everyone can go fuck themselves.

After the initial shock of my lambastatory assault, and after she had gathered her trailing tits and vaginal frock from the ground she insisted she get on the bus first, and not only that, BUT THAT I HELP HER ON BECAUSE SHE’S IN A WHEELCHAIR! The fastidiousness of her audacity astounded me!

It was pretty much at this point that I decided she had just waved her right to live any longer, the way I see it, she’d lived long enough and in her current state was about as useful to society as AIDs is to homosexuals.

The queue of people stood in awe, children gaped in wonder and excitement, mother’s covered innocent eyes and gentlemen everywhere pee’d themselves while muttering something about the death of chivalry as I delivered the most ferocious upper-cut any woman’s cuntory canal’s have ever had the glory of bearing witness to. Children cried, women fainted, men were astounded, and Captain Falcon screamed in orgasmic delight as he masturbated furiously to a punch that dwarfed his own meager trademark ‘Falcon Punch.’

From that moment forth, it became universal knowledge that I am the destroyer of cantankerous old hags in bus queues, old women part like the Red sea for me now.

Having just wiped some lovely old lady from the gene pool I got on the bus, paid my fee and sat down. It was probably only about 7 or 8 minutes before my nostrils began to burn.
“What the fuck is that smell? God it’s fucking awful.”
I contained myself for a further minute or two until my nostrils were in such agony that even a pro of nose powder merchantry such as Jimmy Hendrix himself would have made a deal with the devil to escape the pungent wratheous smells that were waging a war inside my nose.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SMELL!” It was at this point that I turned around to the look behind me, some drunken fuck had selfishly decided to take it upon himself to pass out and have a diarrhoea shit fest all over himself and the three passenger seats he was now taking up. He started to vomit all over himself in his sleep, his vomit was an odd texture, milky and gloopy, looking like but unfortunately having none of the fragrant properties of a strawberry milkshake. It was comforting to see that people had rallied together to help, a couple of children poked him a bit and a young man made a joke or two to his shit ugly girlfriend, needless to say; I got off the bus, but not before taking a piss all over the homeless drunken fuck.

Let’s face it, who really gave a damn anyway? Besides, no matter what I did, the smell couldn’t get any worse.

I did eventually get into town by walking, which ruined my mood somewhat because it meant I had to both carry and drink a 6 pack of stella while walking, and let’s face it, nobody wants to be seen carrying or drinking Stella, let alone doing both like a complete plebe.

I met up with some friends, the usual friends I meet up with when I go out for the night, a crew of barely hominid creatures as lurid and disgustingly bile-filled and asbestos spewing as I am. We went to the Students Union, as most people know, Students Unions are little more than cheap drink fueled orgies and for the most part the flooring of a union will usually consist of a beer/tequila/sexual fluid/vomit crust that has slowly solidified over years of punks fucking each other in pools of their own vomit and shit, the smell of a Student’s Union is usually akin to that of ‘dead man’s sweaty balls’ and the bands that play there are usually the auditory equivalent of playing a little game I like to call ‘who can jam the most razors into their own ears, at the end winner pisses in everyone Else’s manged face.’

Anyway, I don’t really know or care how it happened, but I ended up talking to some 30 year old hag, she wasn’t entirely unattractive, and I do usually go for the more mature lady, or anybody with father issues because let’s face it, they’re piss easy targets, in terms of its difficulty level it’s like taking a dump on a midget (not very hard if you’ve ever tried, which shamefully, I have, but that’s a story for another day). I’m pretty sure this walking sex hole was engaged but I’m not exactly the kind of man who gives a flying fuck about things like that so needless to say I carried on in my debaucherous ways. As far as I saw it, she was looser than a prostitute who’d just attended the Annual Fister’s Festival in Hamburg, so she was fair game as far as I was concerned. By the end of the night we were fucking rampantly in one of the stalls of the Student Union.

This, my friends, is where disaster struck. I was pretty drunk, and when I’m drunk and fucking a stranger from behind, I tend to get a little enthusiastic, pumping harder than a giant tentacle monster in some Japanese porn, slapping asses, being degrading in general tends to become second nature when I have a drunken shag. Her arms were both against the back of the toilet wall, her knees sitting on the seat of the toilet (terrible positioning, but I had been feeding her on vodka for over 4 hours and she wasn’t showing any signs of making any real effort to help the sexual effort), as I was fucking her I started slapping her ass a bit, one of my slaps was apparently a little too enthusiastic, knocking the drunk bitch flying off the toilet seat into the corner of the stall, where she remained, in a drunken stupor, unconscious, half naked, drenched in other people’s urin.

This ladies and gentlemen, is pretty much where I shit myself (not literally), but here’s what my thought process consisted of at this stage,



“SHIT!!!!!! FUCK, OH JESUS, WHAT DO I DO!?!??! Oh, wait, she’s awake again, might as well finish off in her mouth…”

She was out for about 2 minutes, those 2 minutes, were the scariest minutes of my life, when she regained consciousness, I don’t think she really knew or appreciated where she was, it didn’t stop me from mouth fucking her mind you, and in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly way to finish with her, especially since when I came I left her there in the stall alone and closed the door on her…

And that, is why I will never again venture out on St Patrick’s Day, that is why St Patrick’s Day is for Americans and cunts.

Islamic? Go fuck yourself!

There is only one thing I find funnier than religion and that’s an epileptic in a fuckin’ techno rave, I tell a lie I also think women’s rights are far funnier.

As per usual the Islamic fuck-stain populace of Britain has been prancing about like a bunch of faggots protesting the return of British soldiers. So I thought I’d write a little blog.

In all honesty this blog is going to shit all over Islam, the Qu’ran and Muslim’s all over the world, I’d say “if you’re offended don’t read further,” but like the self-righteous, religious, shit-fairies you are you’ll just read on anyway, in order to be offended so you can cry like an 11 year old in confession, who’s having Priest Jim O’Doherty’s paedophilic pole of whimsical forgiveness shoved down his throat.

The Qu’ran is of course a great piece of reading material; well, I say that, what I mean really is that it’s a great way to get ahead in the world of bomb making apprenticeships and organised hate crime…

Now, that’s just my personal view on the issue, 1.8 billion people think it’s the second best book in the world, right after J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter. Let’s face it, the two books probably contain about the same amount of truth to them… With a slight lead in favour of Harry Potter.

There was a great story in the news a while ago, about US and UK soldiers using the Qu’ran as toilet paper. A part of me was like “Woo desecrating a holy book,” but on the other hand there was a part of me which was kinda just thinking, “wiping you’re arse with the Qu’ran, bit like wiping you’re ass with bull-shit; slightly redundant.”

Now obviously my views are my own, I have researched this and personally I think all religion is immoral and wrong and Islam is hateful and intolerant, and some might find my views offensive, but then they can go and fuck themselves, or better still, prove my point and blow me up, either way I’m happy… That’s a very Northern Irish trait, “hmm, I don’t mind dying as long as you prove me right in the process, you fuck”

I say I’ve researched this; really what I mean, is that like most 19 year olds, I looked up wikipedia, got bored, then started looking up porn and weird shit.

My computer is just like a big magic box filled with porn, it’s like the black hole of filth. It’s wonderful.

Anyway, Here’s what I got from Wikipedia:

“The Qu’ran, written in 1612 by Sir Francis Bacon (and published by a giant flying cunt monster) is a fantasy based novella, revolving around wizardry, magic and invisible men in the sky; it is a fan-fiction based on a previous fictitious work known as “the bible” (written by Tom Clancy); critics at the time lambasted the book, one reviewer commenting:
“I’d rather read my father’s athletes foot with my tongue than read this self-indulgent package of complete ball-twattery”

Seem’s fairly accurate to me.

You might be wondering,
“well now, what’s the Qu’ran all about?”

The books main themes include but are not limited to acceptance of other cultures and ideas, hating everything and blowing the shit out of anybody who doesn’t agree with your narrow minded bullshit, embracement of women’s rights, beating women, and of course acceptance of your fellow man regardless of his or her sexual orientation stoning the gays.

Religion just makes no sense to me, for instance, Islam, believes in both pre-destination, AND, free-will… That’s kinda like attending a pro-women’s rights rally then going home to beat your wife.

Fun fact of the day: Mohammed waged wars on the Jews, Hindus and Buddhists, coincidentally, the assault on the Buddhists must have been fairly fast, the worst thing a Buddhist’s gonna do is set himself on fire, but I guess that gives Mohammed more time to fuck kids, so everybody wins really.

I have said an awful lot about Islam, but don’t get me wrong, Christianity’s no better in my eyes: “Stone the gays, fuck the Jews, let’s eat some magical Jesus bread.” What the fuck is that shit all about.

Anyway, in summary if you’re an Islamic fuck bag you can just go fuck yourself and get the fuck out of my country, is that an intolerant stand point to take? You’re God damned fucking right it is.

Fuck Allah, Muhammed’s a paedophile, eat shit and die.

Published in: on 16/03/2009 at 12:13 am  Leave a Comment  
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The Man Diet.

Lately, I’ve been drinking and partying alot… I mean, a fucking lot. So much so that I no longer really appreciate or remember what sobriety truly feels like. I was planning to detox myself for a while, get it all out of my system, but that wouldn’t be very true to my entire life philosophy. As many of you might know, my life philosophy consists of “fuck everyone that isn’t me, I’m awesome” and pivots around the idea of “fuck moderation! I’ll drink till YOU pass out!”

So in order to stay true to my life philosophy I’ve decided rather than detox myself of drink and clean my system out, I should do the exact opposite, and drink all the fucking time.

As such, I’m going to stop eating and drinking anything that doesn’t have an alcohol or nicotine content. I plan to keep this going for 3 weeks. Many of you might be wondering, “does this make you an alcoholic,” the answer to this is of course, “I was an alcoholic long before this dear, now shut up and let me go back to being completely fucking awesome. STOP RAVE BREAK!!! Only joking… THERE ARE NO BREAKS IN RAVE!!!!”

I will of course be documenting this journey for you all to read, although my make no promises that any of it will make sense after day 2, and the spelling more than likely will be fucking appauling. Those who know me are of course invited to be active participants, feel free to come out and drink with me whenever you feel. 12 in the afternoon? Want a drink? Not a problem! I’m on a whiskey diet!!! Everyone wins! If you’re a really close friend, you can contribute in an even more special and meaningful way,i.e., you can stand by my side and keep watch while I drunkenly urinate all over public property at 5 in the morning, load me into a taxi when I pass out, and tell me I’m an idiot, then encourage me to do it anyway.

Enjoy the debauchery people.

26th January – Day One

Food consumed : None

Cigarettes smoked : 18

Alcohol Units consumed : 9 units

Times thrown up : 0

General Notes : I’m still relatively sober, not much to report, making a nice easy start to this…

Health Notes: None yet. Predictions: Liver Sclerosis is in at 4:1 with Lung cancer at 4:1 and choking to death on my own vomit at 2:1

27th January – Day Two

Food consumed : None

Cigarettes smoked : 2

Alcohol Units consumed : 3 units

Times thrown up : 0

General Notes : Maybe whiskey wasn’t the best drink to start with…

Health Notes: None yet.

Predictions: Well, it’s 00:11 at the minute, so I predict needing a really massive piss when I wake up tomorrow.

Part II

Times falled down stairs : 1

Food consumed : None

Cigarettes smoked : 18

Alcohol Units consumed : 28 units

Times thrown up : 0

General Notes : I’m quit drunk now, I did have something fumy to put in here yesterday, but i fell aslep and forgot it. AKilso I fell down ym stairs. It fucking hurt.

Health Notes: None yet.

Hindsight: I did really nedd that piss

28th Januagry – Day Three

Food consumed : Bottle of lucozarde this morning, I mixed it with vodka though, so fuck you.

Cigarettes smoked : 38

Alcohol Units consumed : 27 units

Times thrown up : 1

General Notes : It fels like there’s a nest of wasps in my intestings, wasps, with vibrators , fucking themselve senseless, getting their wasp juice all over the show… GET OUT OF MY INTESTED WASP!

Health Notes: I think I have cancer – there’;s a werid lump in my mouth. It’s not getting smaller… Also, when i piss, it feels like I’ve voluntereed for a Bill oddie special on people infested with parasitic fire ants in their bladder. I don’t think this special as a happy ending.. I might get mauled by an ant easter or some shit like that. Also bill ddie’s a wanker. Everynoes like “omg hes cool” no he’s a bastard. Fuck Bill Oddie. I hope Bill Oddie dies alone on a rusty pelican. OH AND THOSE CUNTS AT FONACAB BARRED ME!

Predictions: Wake ing up tomorrow willbe diffiucult to say the least… HOPefully I won’t chock on my own vomit in my sleep, although at least if I didn I’d go down as a hero… Or a dickhead. Eitherway as long as I’m remembetred for being heroically dickheadical I”m happy.

29th Januagry – Day Four

This day is missing. I think it involved a lot of throwing up and passing out though.

30th Januagry – Day Five

Food consumed : 3 “Nice” Biscuits.

Cigarettes smoked : 40+

Alcohol Units consumed : 60+

Times thrown up : 1

General Notes : I don’t remember much of day five, so you’re getting a summary. I started the evening with a bottle of southern comfort and some wine… I then proceeded to throw up all over my friend Alan’s bathroom. Following this we trashed his living room screaming the words to “Rape Me” by Nirvana. When we decided we were done being breaky and smashy and loud in general we finished the wine and went to Whites, a local pub, where I have ritually humiliated myself and others on numerous occasions.

I proceeded to order 10 BOTTLES of Magners,this was not cheap, and shout at the quiz guy, “IS THE ANSWER YOU’RE A BASTARD?!!!!” He didn’t like that… “Can we take part in the quiz” I drunkenly guffawed.
“It’s over”
“Oh I know the answer to this one… It’s you’re a cunt!” Following our little stand off I insisted he make me 6 Irish coffees in a row. I drank them all.

I then proceeded to go outside and start abusing other paying patrons.
“Hey, do you have a light?” asked the dark haired, middle aged woman with obvious father issues.
“Yes, but you’re probably fucking scum so you can just go fuck yourself.”
“Oh My God, how dare you! What makes you think you have the right to talk to people like that?”
“Well dear, some people are just better than others.”
“What’s you’re IQ?!??” She began flailing her limbs in the air as she tried to make words into sentences.
“I think it’s time for you to go home dear…”
“NO! What’s you’re IQ?!??” Her fat friend had noticed the scene and decided to waddle her lard over to my general area.

The dark haired idiot still continued to scream at me. It was then that I turned my back to her and ignored her completely and joined a circle with my friends. She continued to shout like a pissy little 3 year old who’d just been told she can’t have what she wants.

She started to pull my hair, it was at this point I shoved that drunken bitch on her ass. Her fat friend saw this as a call to arms.
“If you touch her again, I’ll get you beaten up, we’re here with friends.” Now, anybody who knows me should know that the threat of violence, when I’m drunk, usually just makes me even worse, it’s not that I like fighting, well actually in part it is but mostly it’s just that I like pissing people off, and quite frankly it makes me feel like a smug fuck when I can push somebody into trying to swing for me, so needless to say I got worse.
“Listen you fat bitch, I don’t know how to put this, but you and your friend couldn’t be more retarded or ugly if you were violently molested in a dungeon for 3 years by a fucking horse, now get the fuck out of my face, before I falcon punch you in the baby maker, doing what society should have done years ago.”
She went crying to her man at this stage, who came over and asked if there was a problem.
“Hell yea, you’re going out with a fat chick” was my response. Rather than swing for me though, he decided I was hilarious…

I win fat girls. I win.

Some immigrants came over asking if we wanted to buy roses. I pretended I was interested,
“How much for a rose?”
“3 pound.”
“Only joking, go fuck yourself”

I did this to the same guy 5 times in a row… I’d say I felt bad, but I’d be lying because it was fucking hilarious.

Anyway, after a bout of power drinking and pretty much refusing to leave till around 3 in the morning we decided that the night should end in Thompsons… ( A local rave and a running joke, ending up at Thompsons as a general rule, is how you know it’s time to go home.)

I got rejected from Thompsons for being too drunk. This might have had something to do with the fact I tried to pay some guy in the queue to get in…

Went to the apartment, where Alan proceeded to throw up all over my trousers… That was nice of him…

I think I pissed on a church.

I’m fairly surprised I wasn’t lifted by police to be honest I did a fair amount of shouting and breaking on the way back to Alan’s, and I’ve been banned from another taxi company, so that’s Model, Value and Fonacabs I’m barred from using now…

I got home at like 4 in the morning and made pizza which resulted in severe burns on my right hand…

Health Notes: It wasn’t cancer, also, I’m shaking uncontrollably, my lungs feel like what I imagine a Jew in a Ziclon B shower would feel like, and in general my health is disintegrating, I’ve lost 4 pounds in 5 days and my heart rate has increased by about 7 bpm. (it was 83 at rest when I started this)

In terms of appearance, I’ve started to look quite pale and sickly, patches of my skin are yellow at times, or maybe I’m just not seeing colours properly anymore It’s hard to tell at the best of times, if I get up too fast I get woozy and disorientated for a minute or two.

I’m also aware that I just told you I made a pizza, and I’m sure you’re thinking, “Doesn’t that mean you’ve failed already,” the short answer is no, the slightly longer answer is that I drunkenly decided the only way for me to eat and stay in the running was if the food had an alcohol content, as such my pizza was cooked in wine….

Predictions: If I haven’t died in my sleep by tomorrow I’ll be very surprised. Things learnt : How to make a quick escape after a friend throws up all over a classy joint. Proper glass throwing etiquette. Pizza in wine is actually quite nice.

31th Januagry – Day Five

I’m branding this as a “recovery day.”

Food consumed : None

Cigarettes smoked : 2

Alcohol Units consumed : 3 units

Times thrown up : 2

General Notes : I think I might have thrown up a good half of my intestines.
Health Notes: All the previously mentioned problems combined with a new one, I slept for 15 hours and still feel tired.

Predictions: I think I might quit this before I actually die.

Published in: on 31/01/2009 at 3:27 am  Comments (1)  
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