Tag Archives: Stupid

According to my stats, if you’re reading this, you must be a Zoophile.

30 Jan

WARNING: Do not read if you are adverse to naughty words such as “cock”, “vagina” and “fuck”.

It turns out that my captive audience seem to be a bunch of Zoophiles with a fetish for diseased vaginas.

Yes, if you are reading this, it is because you have most likely searched for the term “gorilla cock”, “gorillas having sex”, “gorilla with big ball sack” (this is one of my favourites), or “blue waffle vagina disease”, to name but a few. You may also be the one person that searched “men eating womens snot”. (Note, it should be “womens’ “, not “womens”, but I imagine that if you’re in the midst of a snot searching session, an apostrophe is the least of your worries.)

I’d like to extend my sympathy to whoever it was that searched “how hard is it to send a reply” (yes, missing a “?”); To this person, I would say “They’re just not that into you; But if it’s any consolation, they’re probably having sex with a gorilla at this moment in time.”

Now, God knows I’m all for being open-minded and liberal. I’ve done some “crazy” things in my time: I’ve run around naked, hugged a tree, been to a fetish party, indulged in things sexually that might be seen as a little “different”. Dammit, I’ve even been as rock and roll as to go into my bank account overdraft. You could never accuse me of being a stiff upper lipped Brit.

But even I am having just a little trouble finding the turn-on in gorilla porn. Or gorilla cock. Or gorilla ball bags. Or gorilla ejaculate. In fact, anything gorilla related. The same can be said for Blue Waffle.

On a brighter and completely unrelated note, I’m now going to shamelessly promote some of my other articles for you to read, so that you can cleanse your mind of bestiality.

There’s something for everyone: If you like (or in this case, hate) Daniel Craig, you can join in the hate-fest here.

Like (or hate) pussies? Here you go.

Want to watch a guy thrusting a long metal pole that is attached to his Y-fronts? (It’s really fucking funny.) Click me.

I’ve written some other shit too. If you really want to read it, go look it up.

One last thought for the day: There are other animals out there aside from gorillas. Mix it up a bit. Just saying.

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“Do u still want me to send u a pic of it?” Errr, who are you?

29 Nov

So the other day, I had the absolute displeasure of receiving this text message from some unknown fucktard called “Phil”.

Phil is a pushy bastard – after receiving no reply from me, he sent me another message asking “Wud u like it hard or soft?” before sending me yet another message, telling me (note, not asking me) to send a picture of myself.

Phil – whoever the hell you are – FUCK OFF.

Would it be completely wrong to send him a picture of a Blue Waffle? (Not my own of course. Mine’s pretty, and not at all blue or waffley.)

Video

Video WTF Of The Week

24 Nov

I watched this. I laughed. I nearly shat myself a little. If you are immature like me, you will enjoy this. A man is thrusting his cock and pulling faces for Pete’s sake, how could you not enjoy it?

“How Cheryl Cole takes her tea?” Who gives a tiny rat’s arse..?

15 Nov

There is officially no hope for planet Earth. Today I had the sheer displeasure of my earholes being polluted by the utter shite that one can hear on the radio – no I’m not talking about Chris Brown or Justin Bieber – I’m talking about the advert I heard whilst in my car, encouraging me to buy a magazine because I could, and I QUOTE: “Find out how Cheryl takes her tea.”

Yes, my friends. I could find out how Cheryl “I’m as talented as dry shit on bog-roll” Cole, (or “Cheryl” as she is now calling herself after her footballer, yes, FOOTBALLER husband cheated on her, I mean who would EVER have thunk it??), prefers her tea. Not only this – I could do so after swapping 250 of our Great British pennies in exchange for said magazine.

Well. WELL. Fuck me sideways and call me Baloo.

I mean, to be honest, I really for the life of me cannot figure out just how I have managed to exist on this planet for 25 and a half years, without this most crucial, most astronomic, most vital and LIFE-CHANGING piece of information.

Pray, do tell, how DOES Cheryl take her tea? What flavour tea does she drink? And what brand? Does she keep the teabag in whilst drinking? Or does she let it brew? And for how long does she let it brew? Does she accompany it with a biscuit? Chocolate bourbons or malted milks? Custard crèmes or jammy dodgers? Does she take it with milk?  Or sugar? Or up the arse?

Because, by great Odin’s raven, until I know this information, I shan’t sleep again. I shan’t be validated as a proper human being until I have been enlightened with this gift of knowledge. I shan’t be able to eat until I know how, just exactly HOW, Cheryl takes her tea.

And once I have found out this information, I shall extend my quest to finding out whether Simon Cowell uses butter or margarine, whether Russell Brand uses ribbed or flavoured condoms, and whether The Queen wipes from back to front or front to back. Because God knows, life is not complete until we are all aware of these nuggets of wisdom.

Stupid frickin’ cats – I rest my case.

13 Nov

In line with the “Cat’s are f*cking stupid” theme that I have been thrusting down your throats, I provide you with video evidence that I am, in fact, right. Bugger me, I love it when I’m right.

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

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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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