Tag Archives: Facebook

Happy fucking new year. I’ve set fire to my hair already.

1 Jan

I’ve been away for a few weeks in the U-S-of-A, and there is far too much to rant about for one post, so I shall come back to that soon. I probably won’t.

In the mean-time, have a happy 2013. It baffles me that the world went schizo over the Mayans predicting the end of the world, yet nobody has yet thrown a hissy fit over the fact that for one whole year, we are going to be all about the big THIRTEEN. Hashtag unlucky.

Within hours of it being the new year, I have managed to set light to my hair whilst cooking myself a drunken feast (note: if you have exceedingly long hair, it’s best not to lean over the cooker. In fact, it’s best not to cook whilst drunk. In fact, I should probably go and check that I turned the fire off.)

I also managed to have a run in with the school bully on the way home. How is it, at 25 and a half years of age, Fat Lee still makes me quake in my boots? Actually, probably ’cause he’s Fat Lee – the earth trembles beneath him. Yo mama.

One more gripe – I am so inanely bored of seeing Facebook statuses telling me how many “ups and downs” everyone has had this year, or how they’re going to “kick this year’s arse”. We all know in a year’s time, the people who thought they were going to kick this year’s arse will be complaining over how many ups and downs they’ve had this year. That is life. GET OVER IT. And don’t shit all over my newsfeed.

Bah humbug and a merry fucking new year.

The pussy is still dead.

12 Nov

I lied this morning when I said I didn’t have the energy to get passionately angry about anything today. I am still very much snotting all over the place, my nose is redder than Rudolph’s bell-end, and my throat feels as if I’ve swallowed an over zealous cactus. Yet, something has ignited the rage within me. And that “something”, is dead meat. Literally.

Some of you may have read my little rant a few days ago, about the deceased cat that was clogging up my Facebook feed – or rather, the deceased cat’s mentally stunted owner. I thought that, having gotten it all off my chest, and with the cat in question being dead, that this whole sorry state of affairs would clear itself up and I wouldn’t have to read the utter gob shite status updates for much longer.

HOW WRONG I WAS. It is a week later and you may like to know that, whilst the cat is still dead, the owner’s enthusiasm for shitting all over Facebook, unfortunately, is not.

“Let’s all donate to animal charity this month.” Errrr.. let’s NOT.

“Mummy misses you so much.” Sorry – last time I checked, the owner in question still had the remnants of a human brain and wasn’t a FUCKING CAT.

A comment from a friend: “I lost my cat too, I hope they have found each other in heaven and are special friends now.” I kid you not, I couldn’t make this shit up.

Maybe it’s just me and my cold, bitter, unsympathetic negligence for furry beings. Or maybe I haven’t lost my brains just yet and still have a grasp of sanity. Answers on a postcard please, because unless I’ve missed something, and animals have now started having funerals at which there is a wake that I can get pissed at, I’m starting to worry that I may not be normal.

I rest my case: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhIK8ZW0Gpk

It’s a pussy. Now get over it.

11 Nov

Image

If you are an animal lover, I’d suggest you stop reading this now.

If you are one of those people who buy calendars with pictures of fluffy white kittens, or birds regurgitating into each other’s mouths, I’d suggest you stop reading this now.

If you are the sort of person that takes any sort of offence when I say “Bambi’s mum died, big whoop”, then, again, I’d suggest you stop reading this now.

This particular rant stems from what I can only describe as the FECKING UNNECESSARY posts that have been showing up on my facebook news feed from one of my facebook “friends”. Not a real friend, mind, but a fake facebook one. So I’m allowed to crucify their moronic behaviour without feeling the slightest bit of remorse.

I understand that being in the situation where you might possibly lose a loved one, can be a very stressful and upsetting time. For example if one of your parents have been diagnosed with a terminal disease. Or if one of your siblings has been in a life threatening accident. I could go as far as being able to understand if your second cousin twice removed (whatever that even means) has had an unfortunate sex accident with a hoover and has ended up in the hospital. It happens, it’s stressful, and such is life.

But, so help me God, when I see my facebook feed constipated with the posts of someone asking for the world to PRAY FOR THEIR CAT: shit is gonna start going down.

To the fucktard in question: Have you lost your FRIGGIN MIND? There is a reason why cats have the ability to land on their feet after falling from a great height – that is because everybody wants to KICK THEM FAR FAR AWAY. They are annoying. And bitchy. Yes, BITCHY. And they walk around like the world owes them something. Well, we don’t. So you can take your pouch of Whiskas and shove it up your tiny pink cat anus.

And this one cat in particular really takes the cat chew. UGLY? Ugly doesn’t even begin to describe it. It has the facial expression that one would imagine you’d pull if someone had shat on a slice of toast, eaten it, vommed it back up into a bowl and served it to you for breakfast, i.e. unamused. (At least, I would hope you’d be unamused. If not though, I may know some people who may know some people who can hook you up with that sort of thing…)

However, I’m not sure what’s worse – this particular culprit asking all the world and its friends to pray for their stupid ugly cat OR the mundanely clichéd comments that all of their friends are posting in response:

“It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.” REALLY? Is that why Cat Girl is missing a cat-shaped piece of her heart right now whilst I happily chow down on Pepperidge Farm cheddar goldfish..?

“He knows how much he was loved”… Errrr, no he doesn’t. HE’S DEAD.

OK, so some of my words may be slightly harsh. Only slightly. Very very slightly. Pretty much not at all. But am I the only one thinking that in the grand scheme of things, a CAT is what I have to be praying for? How about money, love, and world domination? Or getting chocolate BN biscuits back into supermarkets? Or, more importantly, getting that fuckwit Justin Bieber off my radio and into Room 101?

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