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.

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Some female propaganda.

I found this, apparently, it’s “27 ways to make a girl smile,” as far as I and you are concerned it’s “27 ways to friendzone yourself like a complete fucking faggot and be seen as ‘another one of the girls’ like some cockless eunich.” The original list of “27 ways to make a girl smile” or as far as I and you are concerned the “27 ways to friendzone yourself like a complete fucking faggot and be seen as ‘another one of the girls’ like some cockless eunich,” is in regular font, my changes are in italics.

1. Tell her she is beautiful (not hot, fine, or sexy)
Don’t compliment women until you’re sure you’re just about to fuck them, and even then it’s dodgy territory.

2 . Hold her hand at any moment . . . even if its just for a second.
Holding hands is for faggots.

3 . Kiss her on the forehead.
You know who kisses women on the forehead?

…Their gay friends. That’s who. Are you a gay friend?

4 . Leave her voice messages to wake up to.
Yea, that’s nice, but here’s how a man wakes up

1., wake up,
2., have a piss and a shit,
3., maybe, if you’re feeling up to it, have a wank

Note how nowhere in that list did I say “leave her a voice message like a stalker faggot with no social skills.”

5 . Always tell her you love her every second of the day.
Or, don’t say it in excess of once every 3 days and make her work for it.

6 . When she is upset, hold her tight and tell her how much she means to you.
When she is upset; get a new one; she’s broken.

7 . Recognize the small things . . . they usually mean the most.
Or, alternatively, just an idea, WHO THE FUCK CARES?

8 . Sing to her no matter how horrible your voice is.
You know who sings Barry White? That’s right, Barry fucking White, let’s keep it that way shit fuck, I don’t need to hear you woeing your walking vagina with your tone deaf bullshit.

9 . Pick her over all the other girls you hang out with.
Or ignore her when you’re with other women. Sometimes the most counter productive methods are the most effective, and by sometimes, I mean pretty much all the time, and by pretty much all the time, I mean do what I say faggot.

10 . Write her notes. (she loves them)
The only note you write in your lifetime should be addressed to your family and when you finish writing it you should take a long sip of whiskey and shoot yourself in the head in your study.

11 . Introduce her to family and friends . . . as your girlfriend.
If she actually is your girlfriend, other wise it’s weird. Actually, on second thought, if she is your girlfriend, introduce her as “some girl I met in the pub earlier,” women love an asshole.

12 . Play with her hair.
Don’t you’re an idiot, you’ll just get tangled in it and make a mess.

13 . Pick her up, tickle her, and play-wrestle with her.
Or beat her.

14 . Sit in the park and just talk to her.
Parks are for drinking and frisby, nothing else.

15 . Tell her funny jokes, tell her stupid jokes, or just tell her jokes.
Stupid jokes = goofy = friendzone, boring jokes = boring = friendzone. Jokes = dated and boring = friendzone, write an anecdote, or even better actually have a real one to tell. Then beat her.

16 . Throw pebbles at her window in the middle of the night . . . just because you missed her.
Don’t go near her house in the middle of the night, unless you’re burning it to the ground in the name of vengeance, otherwise, you’re a faggot.

17 . Let her fall asleep in your arms.
Then have sex with her.

18. Carve your names into a tree.
Then have sex with her.

19 . If she’s mad at you, kiss her.
Then rape her.

20 . Give her piggyback rides.
Don’t.

21 . Bring her flowers
Then have sex with her.

22 . Treat her the same around your friends as you do when your alone.
Don’t, your friends will think you’re a faggot, because chances are you act like a faggot when you’re alone with this bitch.

23 . Look her in the eyes and smile.
Or fuck her from behind and make funny faces.

24 . Let her take as many pictures of you as she wants.
Especially if she’s fucking you while taking pictures. You’ll need them for when you fail and get dumped.

25 . Slow dance with her, even if there isn’t any music playing.
If you’re both slow children who travel in the special bus and wear suspenders and socks up to their knees.

26 . Kiss her in the rain.
Don’t the rain is shit, it’s not romantic, it’s not French and whimsical and magical, it’s retarded and you’ll catch the cold.

27 . If your in love with her . . . tell her.
If you’re in love with her, you lost the game.

I like how initially when I started writing this I was actually trying to give real advice, since if a man does everything on this list he’ll friendzone himself after about 3 days, then after about…well… point 1 really I just started being a complete ass.

This is actually little more than a reflection on how horrifically I treat women.

I love being a complete cunt.

I HATE NIGGERS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Meet the Orsotriaena Medus.

Meet the Orsotriaena Medus.

The Orsotriaena medus, more commonly refered to, in India, as “The Nigger.”

“Orsotriaena is a monotypic genus of the Satyrinae, or the Browns. The genus has only one species, Orsotriaena medus which is found in Asia and Australia. In India, the butterfly has historically been called the Nigger, while in present-day Australia it has been given the name Smooth-eyed Bush-brown.” – Wikipedia

Suck my controversy.

Women of the world: Shut… The… Fuck… Up…

Female propaganda is really starting to piss me off, only 4 weeks into my new relationship and I suddenly find myself realising why I spent 3 months being single. I hate women. Seriously, women bring it on themselves, they deserve to be hated, just for perpetuating a system which instills a feeling that it’s “ok” to be open about your feelings.

Women want too fucking much, they want you to tell them shit about how you feel, and say “oh tell me how you feel, we don’t make assumptions.”

Actually, yes, you do you fucking stupid bitch, all you ever do is assume you’re fat, ugly, stupid, and that we hate you, and know what, we fucking do hate you, you are fat, and you’re certainly fucking stupid. Go cry on myspace and cut yourself you self-absorbed baby oven.

A couple of days ago I came home from the gym, I told my girlfriend how it was, because I like to involve her in my day, and hell, if I’m talking, it means she isn’t, which is always a fucking plus, because women can’t tell stories and pretty much everything and anything they say is pointless, retarded, or annoying. Anyway, following my going through a small portion of my day, she comes off with some snide crap like:
“Being able to make me laugh is so much more important than how much you can bench-press.” No it’s not, shut the fuck up. I can bench press one hundred donkeys seven hundred times, bitch, this fact is far more important to me than my ability to make you laugh. I can make you laugh I just don’t want to because your laugh sounds like the result of somebody rubbing a cheese grater up a castrato’s colon.

Anyway, after this comment, I was fairly certain it was that time of the month, well, in honesty, it was that comment combined with the fact that she just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about inane shit that I need to do about the house, that funnily enough didn’t need doing a day ago, or any day previous to that.

What is it about feeling that anything they say or do during period  cannot be held against them?

You know what guys, don’t buy into that bullshit, everything she does and says can and should be held against her, want to know why? For the simple reason, that while she may feel bad for a couple of days you need to fucking hear about it for the duration of it, AND for weeks after.

It’s a fucking period.
Deal with it.

Real men have them too; I like to call it the “man period” it consists of the space of time during which we need to hear about your period.

We also have a far worse period that you can ever have, it’s called the “ultimate mind-fuck, man period”, it’s basically that part in your life, where you give childbirth (after 3 years of begging us to give up our lives and have a child with you) then we need to hear about it for the fucking rest of our lives.

To top this bullshit off, I invited a few friends round the following day. Well, much to my surprise it seems that women don’t believe believe that having them over while you and your friends play video games is counted as “quality time.”

You know what I say to that? Fuck her! If she wants me to go shopping with her and offer advice on things that I possess no knowledge on (i.e., clothes) and go on hundreds of other inane, dire tasks with her, like seeing her ancient grandmother who watches every episode of night-rider from start to finish when we come round, then she can spend a couple hours on the fucking couch while we sit and play “Blood, Fuck, Stab, Kill 3 – The Fatality of Mutilation.”

What is all this bullshit about how they can admit their wrong and that men should be able to do the same?

First off, they can’t ever admit they’re wrong.
Secondly, men are never wrong, ever.

Published in: on 16/03/2009 at 2:29 am  Comments (1)  
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A list of 30 things I hate.

1., You,
2., Everything you stand for,
3., Women,
4., Pretty much anybody who’s a Liberal,
5., The poor,
6., Blacks,
7., Homosexuals,
8., Whites,
9., Barry Fucking Manilow,
10., Heterosexuals,
11., Eskimos – who the fuck do they think they are?
12., Metrosexuals,
13., Coldplay’s latest album,
14., Your mum,
15., Australia,
16., Every album Coldplay released previous to their latest album,
17., Anybody who listens to Coldplay,
18., Coldplay,
19., Change,
20., Anybody who watches Sex and City and thinks that it’s ok to act like they’re Carry (or whatever that wind-bag-shit-churning-cum-receptical’s name is) in real life,
21., People who call it “Sex in the City” – not that I really give a shit, since the series is equal in value to my last wank which landed all over the carpet because I didn’t have any tissues ready because I was absolutely dying for a wank because I’d been thinking about my girlfriend the whole car journey home and didn’t have the foresight to think “oh wait I’m going to need tissues,” no rather I just pulled my pants down around my ankles and went for it like a doberman on steroids tearing a baby’s face off,
22., Liberals,
23., Being so desperate for a wank that I don’t bother or remember to have tissues at the ready,
24., Jade Goodie,
25., Liberals,
26., George Lucas – because of what he did to Star Wars,
27., George Lucas – because of what he did to Indiana Jones,
28., Harrison Ford – for being the worst actor on the planet, and also for playing a part in the general shit fest that is the Indiana Jones franchise that my idiot girlfriend won’t ever fucking shut up about,
29., People who quote movies or series they know I don’t watch,
30., People,

Published in: on 16/03/2009 at 12:50 am  Comments (1)  
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Daniel Radcliff’s stunt double was injured today.

It was 7:35 am, I had just sat down to watch the morning news, because for once, I was both awake at an early hour, and not drunk of my fucking tits from the night before. So needless to say, being up at 7:35 demands some Penny from GMTV and maybe a quick wank… (Penny is by far my favourite presenter… I’ve squezed more out to her than I have to any girlfriend…)

Anyway, I had just caught the words “Daniel Radcliff was seriously injured in a stunt” as they scrolled along the bottom of the screen. “YES!” I screamed, in what can only be described as a childish display of exhilaration in the knowledge that that pathetic little fuck stain was possibly hopefully maybe going to die and get the fuck out of my gene pool once and for all…

Alas, as usual I was just being fucked around. The same headline scrolled along once again. “The stunt double for Daniel Radcliff was seriously injured in a stunt.” Surely “Daniel Radcliff’s stunt double” would have prevented this confusion, fuck you GMTV, fuck you for once again getting my fucking hopes up and making me think there was yet some chance of me finding a glimmer of happiness in my life. Fuck…You…

I hope that fuck Radcliff dies in a freak fire ant insect attack and his flesh is torn from his body as his family are forced to watch (they deserve to suffer for being so retarded as to believe they were worthy of passing on their genetic seed) by swarms of pissed off ants. Fucking poncey little bastard.

“Oh hello there, I just did my A levels, so needless to say, I’ve become a pompous asshole who knows everything, might as well go wank over how artistic I am by standing naked beside a fucking horse for 2 hours!!!”

Fuck you Radcliff.

Published in: on 29/01/2009 at 9:54 am  Comments (1)  
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