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:

clinteastwoodwatchingtwilightclinteastwoodonwatchingtwilight
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.

Society; It Just Keeps Winning These Days…

Thank you knife crime!

Thank you knife crime!

Heard of Peter Tyler Juett? No? That’s because he’s an insignificant speck of useless genetic waste that society should be proud to have, all be it, inadvertently, pushed off of the mortal coil.

Just to give you a bit of a back-story, in case you don’t know or like me didn’t really give a flying fuck, here’s the Daily Mail’s take:

The suspected burglar, 17-year-old Tyler Juett, was killed after he was allegedly caught breaking into a house in Old Basford, Nottingham…One visitor [in regards to the website set up in support of the stabber] claimed Juett deserved his fate, adding: ‘This dude is a pretty cool guy. He stabs thug wanna-bes and isn’t afraid of anything.’

First off, I fail to see why we are still calling this ‘suspected burglary’, if there’s foul play involved and they picked the kid off the streets and killed him for the lulz then who the fuck really cares? So let’s just cut to the chase and all agree to call it a burglary. Just look at that kid’s retarded face, how could he be of any use to our society? Let’s face it guys, we’re not losing a Nobel Prize winner her, we’re losing some malignant, shit-munching, scum-dreg who’s biggest achievement in life would have been to father 3 children by the age of 23 (further degrading the value I and you place on life, and ruining society in general.)

I am fed up with you butt-hurt liberals crying like a child who’s been kicked in the cunt every time some fucking idiot gets himself killed.

Secondly:
His mother Michelle, 34, refused to speak to the press but wrote on her Facebook page: ‘Why, why, why, why, why? I want my baby back.’ – Daily Mail, again.

Why? Why, you malignant, shit wrapping, faeces flinging troglodyte? Why? You’re honestly asking why? I’ll tell you why, because 1., You clearly can’t raise a child for shit and 2., because he burgled somebody like a fucking useless tool.

Michelle, the mother, or, inconsiderate wombatron, as I’m going to refer to her from now on, is pretty much the reason I believe having children is not a right, it is a privilege and should be treated as such, you should have to take a parenting test, spend months in parenting courses, and be awarded a ‘licence to breed by the state.’ It astounds me that in this fucking country, you need to be 18 to drink, yet only 16 to fuck, what the fuck is going on? Seriously, you fucking idiots prance around as if having kids is some magical miracle and they just fucking raise themselves, you act like you all DESERVE to have children, when quite frankly it’s brutally obvious that a vast majority of the population are useless genetic dregs on the lowest possible stage of the evolutionary ladder, with no right to re-introduce their DNA strands to society by shitting out more womb-waste.

Your child is dead because you were a shit mother.

Paramedics tried to save the teenager – Daily Express.

Why did you bother? Some life isn’t worth saving.

A police spokesman said: “In an effort to establish the circumstances which led up to the death we would ask anyone who was in and around the area at that time on March 13 to cast their minds back to see if they can remember anyone acting suspiciously. – Daily Express.

Again, why bother? It’s a complete waste of tax payer money, give whoever stabbed him a fucking medle and a parade and encourage more people to defend themselves and their homes.

A neighbour is quoted as saying : “They are good people who live in that house. They are very co-operative and nice. “ – Well, I’m glad they managed to co-operate that knife into that little ‘solja’ faggots gut.

What the fuck is a solja anyway? Anybody who calls themselves a fucking solja should be incinerated.

You fucks are lucky I don’t run this nation.

Oh, and Tyler Peter Juett? What a fucking retarded name, if you’re going to fall short on raising your kids the least you can do is not force them to live out what short lives they’re going to have with some french bullshit girly boy hybrid name that just sounds like a really fucking bad economic jet.


Of the elderly, duffle coats and Coldplay.

I’m not feeling too hateful today, instead I’d like to share with you my thoughts on the joys that growing old will hold for myself and many others of my generation.

I feel, there is one definitive, iconic, and infinitely irritating sign of ageing.

I call it, the “age related colour blindness phenomenon.” You see it all the time. People get to their 30’s, they look respectable, nice suits, some nice informal shirts and what not for going out. All nice respectable colours, blacks, greys, whites, sometimes they get a bit spicy with some beige! That’s for the adventurous though…

Then, something happens… They hit 40; everything goes to shit.

You know the start of the Old Doctor Who series? That really psychedelic intro… Yea, it’s kind of like that, only with clothes… It’s like they wake up one morning and say to themselves,
“You know what! I should dress the way Doctor Who sounds!”

They start wearing completely things generally categorised as ‘bat shit crazy’.
“Yea, yea, this turquoise jumper would go well with brown ¾ length shorts and a.. red.. duffel-coat…”

It sounds funny, but it’s not, it’s fucking dangerous. I reckon a good 15 people die as an indirect result of badly dressed elderly people every year.

You’re walking down the street and suddenly you’re blinded by a psychedelic wave of colour, your sense of smell overcome by the familiar scent of peas and moth balls. You try to shield your eyes, but it’s too much! The all too familiar theme tune to Doctor Who plays as an homage to your distress as you’re vaporised by a beam of bad special effects firing in rapid succession from each of the buttons on the red duffle coat that seals your doom…

That episode of course never made it to air…

In fairness though, I can’t wait till I get old, I’m going to be a complete miserable bastard, well, more of a miserable bastard than I am already.

I really genuinely can’t wait. It’s going to be fantastic. There’s just so much to look forward to.

I mean, first off, there’s getting to watch the people I hate die. That’s something I’ll enjoy.

Come home from work one day at the young, British working age of 82, hoping I‘ll make it to 100 so I can enjoy the benefits of my one year retirement, to find that Chris Martin has passed away…
“Aww, pity, there goes the last remaining member of Coldplay, THE MOST BORING BAND IN HISTORY!”

I think, if Hell exists It’ll more than likely be one big room filled with Coldplay fans waiting for a Coldplay gig. Coldplay won’t actually play though because it’s the only way Coldplay could be even more boring than they already are.

Coldplay: they don‘t really serve any real purpose to humanity, well, I say that, it’s not entirely true, I suppose, they do, in a way, serve as a fantastic argument for mandatory euthanasia…

Coincidentally, I hear the most humane way to go about euthanasia is just to talk to Chris Martin for a day or so. As far as their argument for euthanasia goes though, it’s right up there, along with Westlife’s acting as proof and the final argument that there is no God…

Chris Martin said, in 2004, “We really feel that we have to be away for a while and we certainly won’t release anything this year, because I think people are a bit sick of us.”
Oh Chris… If only you’d stuck to the plan.

He then went on to say in a later press release. That for their 2005 album, X&Y, they were “trying to release the best thing that anybody has ever heard…” Personally, I think the only way Coldplay could release the “best thing that anybody has ever heard” is if they held a press conference and announced their retirement…

That or if the police held a press conference and announced the sudden and unexpected death of all band members in freak cookery and DIY related accidents.

But yea, there’s a lot I look forward to in growing old…

Saving up my entire life… Only to realise that all my friends are dead… And that I have nobody to enjoy it with.

Getting on buses, just to see where they go, because I have fuck all else to do… And also, because all my friends are dead.

Farting and burping in public, because, fuck it, I’m old, I can do whatever I want! I’m above the law! That’s one thing I really can’t stand, I understand, yes, you get older, you lose control sometimes, but it’s the ones who do it, while they’re talking to you.

“Oh hello there, haven’t seen you in a while, how was your *burp* day *finish burp*?”

They never apologise, and it always smells like a slightly off Tesco’s value meal. That is if we could even define a Tesco’s Value Meal as a “meal,” rather than a “salmonella mystery fun pack” for the digestive system. Comes complete with free coffee! Made with the finest ground up bone powder of YOUR DEAD FRIENDS YOU MISERABLE OLD BASTARD!

…Yea… Anyway, while we’re still on the topic of growing old, despite my occasional tangents, There is one thing I really can’t wait for…

Pretending to have Alzheimer’s:

“Son, when, when did we get a parrot?”
“…We don’t own a parrot dad…”
“Of course we do son, we bought him on the Coconut Isle, in Tesco’s, from Chris Martin.”
“Ok dad…”
“FEEL MY DUFFEL-COAT WRATH!!”

Now, the great thing about this, is that, the longer you pretend to have it, the harder it becomes to realise quite where the line between pretending to have Alzheimer’s, and actually having Alzheimer’s, is drawn.

Forgive me, Alzheimer’s is of course very serious. Well, until Grand-dad comes downstairs dressed in a pair of old curtains offering everyone something he’s calling “pineapple delight”… Despite the fact he isn’t holding any pineapples.

Published in: on 14/12/2008 at 4:33 am  Leave a Comment  
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