Kicking Your Fucking Face In

I got another job

2011-07-15T19:56:00.008+01:00

I actually found out today, when they rang and asked if I could work tomorrow. It's for this events agency. I'm a steward, or a waiter, or a bus-boy, or a barman, or whatever it is they require as they require it. It's just a minimum wage shitter I can do part-time between banging your mother and my masters, and the majority of it is in the evening-to-late-night which lends itself quite well to my inverted circadian rhythm.

The lady on the phone specified that I wear black pants, black shoes and a white shirt. The thing is, I don't have black pants, or even a white shirt come to think of it. I have charcoal/almost black pants and a sort of off-white/crème shirt, so I had to go out and get some black pants and a white shirt, while resenting my employers the whole time for it.

This whole process pisses me off, not because I have to wear gay ass clothes that make me feel awkward (although that is an irritation), but because I hate going out on a limb for jobs. They impose on everything without any right to. I wrote that lunch-hour blog which covers a similar idea. They take from you more than what they pay you for, and by that I mean they make you do shit like go out in your own time to buy a load of clothes they want you to wear with your own money. They rang today asking me to work tomorrow as well. Am I meant to drop all the shit I'm doing (watching Tron) to go out and buy some clothes because they want them? God damn it. I get the job and what the fuck, I'm starting at like negative £30 and a chunk outta me-time.

All I ask is that they pay me for the work I do for them. Buying this shit counts, as it is my time and effort expended in aid of something they ask me to do. It's working for them. Unpaid, this is the overspill, and overspill can go fuck itself. They have no right to any of my time outside of work, and my money?! That's a whole other issue. I'm not their friend, I'm not doing them favours. We have a business arrangement. It's cold, yeah, but as a system the trade of labour for money is cold. I just want it to be a fair trade off, and it isn't. It's totally one sided and it's exploitative.

If the work requires a certain dress code then that's fair enough, but if they want me in a uniform they should give me a fucking uniform. Would you make a builder buy their own hard-hat? What about a police-man his own flak jacket? Those two examples have practical purposes but the arbitrary dress code is no different if it's unwavering. If it's non-negotiable, for all intents and purposes it is necessary. Mathematically speaking, they would amount to the same variable in the equation, therefore their non-negotiable dress code is as much a necessity as a flak jacket is to a police-man; one of them is just synthetic, the other organic.

Anyway, you might argue that the majority of people already own black shoes, black pants and a white shirt, so it's not such a big deal. This is true but why do you think people already own those items? Because other jobs required them to. I'm sure people who love to lounge around in suit pants and starched shirts all day exist somewhere but I defy you to find me one. As it stands I'm spending money on my employer so they look better. I'm not employing them! If I'm not a shareholder, or investor, or the owner of the company then how I look when I'm paid to represent them is their job if they want me to look a certain way, not mine.

If you think about it, it's almost like they're saying 'if you don't wear this, you won't be getting employed'. That's also known as extortion.

Is it not a reasonable request that if they require I wear a uniform, they provide one? By uniform I mean any specified dress code. If it was a dress code of jeans, t-shirts and hoodies all that would do is conveniently align the dress code with what I usually wear, but it's still a uniform, and should still be provided because it is them who require it. It is a reasonable request, it's just that the standard is otherwise. Barely anybody questions reality as they've always known it. They just accept it, literally, on face-value. You wouldn't be expected to do the shopping for some other person's household, at your own expense no less, would you? You wouldn't even do that for a friend unless they were going to reimburse you.

Jesus, you'd think I'd just be happy I got a job eh? I should work for the unions.

By the way, you do not even want to be around for the repercussions following anybody quoting that old trite idiom 'you think the world owe's you a living'. If you're thinking that right now, please know, and this is with absolute certainty, you are a moron. That's it. If you were in any doubt at all, if you are thinking of that phrase right now, rest assured you are a moron.

Good day.

Who gets smacked by a girl twice for doing nothing? This guy.

2011-07-08T12:56:00.007+01:00

I couldn't really not blog this. This is the kind of shit this blog was made for: chronicling stupid assholes I really wish I could kick the fucking face in of.

This is one of those 'stories' I've become so versed in experiencing, those retarded and sometimes embarrassing stories I never seem to do anything to get myself into, but seem to always get into.

Last night I went to a friend's house-warming party. Now our eponymous girl was handing out hugs like hot-cakes (love that phrase) to everybody upon entry into the flat, which I thought was kind of awkward. I actually forwent my hug because I dashed off to the little girl's room and when I got back hug-time was over. Something similar happened with my tuberculosis vaccination. Long story short, I'll probably die of tuberculosis now. Anyway, everything was going as it usually does. Everyone else was talking, I was huddled in a corner.

Sometime in the night my mate challenged me to some beer pong, so we played, and I beat him. From this a horrifying, unending spiral of beer pong ensued. I wanted one god damned game but I was trapped because it was winner-stays-on. This lasted 4 rounds, a streak! In one round the only drink I drank was the one I accidentally threw into my own cup. Smooth eh? The table was like a metre and a half long, so it's easily done when going for a bounce shot, so BACK OFF.

After every loser devoured my alcohol, I resigned as champion of the world and went back to my corner. At some point soon after, our antagonist came over and started talking to me. I don't know what she said to initiate conversation because really, how you do that is the biggest mystery of the universe. What I remember is her pointing out how I was shy and 'standoffish', in her words. What a horrible, ugly word that is. But anyway, who gives a fuck what I was doing? What, you want me to change my face bitch? Do you want me to smile like a mong all the time? If I make her uncomfortable that's her bullshit, nobody else was arsed. There could have even been a simple explanation to it: I was tired, I was sad, I was apprehensive. I mean, I wasn't, I'm just naturally quite reserved, but fuck any cunt telling me how to act or feel. Nobody has that right.

At another point I remember telling her she was being patronising, which she was, and I actually think another friend sort of ear-wigging said it to her first, but I can't remember what she said to make me think it. Probably something like 'come out of your shell'. It's actually likely it was that because when does anybody ever use any other phrase to connote what that one does? Never is when. I swear, fuck that phrase in the holy cunt of hell. Anyway, I told she was being patronising in a kind of friendly/jocular tone, not offensively, so did my friend. I actually said it in such a way to deliberately avoid causing offence because people generally consider themselves nothing at all that comments on their character negatively, ever. At this point she just turned more patronising and said shit like 'bless' and stroking my arm, almost passive-aggressively being patronising to annoy me further. She did it with a similar swagger of self-appointed, condescending superiority that lots of women seem to posses, typically mums. Why do women do that? They all seem to think they're above men, and more intelligent, and generally more worldly. What are they trying to be? Liberated women or something? Bitch please! Just because you're sarcastic doesn't mean you're a feminist. Nor does it make you interesting in the slightest. That pisses me off, when women try too hard to be too hard to talk to, as if it makes them interesting. All girls seem to do that: affect sarcasm as flirtatious banter, and guys lap it up as if it makes the girl intelligent or challenging. S'bullshit son, s'bullshit.

Anyway, this next part is where shit got real. She kept asking why I was so 'standoffish' and I actually think she said 'cold' and the whole time I was like laughing in bemusement and saying shit like 'really? I dunno, I'm fine' and at one point she was like 'I bet you were bullied', and even in a joking/banter kind of way that's a line crossed, especially when she doesn't make it evident she is just fucking around, but instead continues to insist I was bullied as a kid. Oh and for the record I hate banter. It infuriates me.

So then she started telling me I have issues. You're damn right I have issues, issues with dickheads and cretins. In seriousness though, I do have issues, everyone fucking does to some degree. The point is I don't have the ones she was accusing me of and drawing misinformed assumptions from. Her ideas were so god damned corny too. I bet she thought I was a goth once. She's there vomiting soap opera story-lines at me. Get the fuck out.

Now she was straight telling me I was bullied as a kid and I was like 'not really, not significantly or more than anyone else'. That's the truth too. Why would I lie? I'm not ashamed or anything, plus everybody was bullied; fuck, it's fashionable to have been bullied. I was just telling her it sincerely, not to deflect her argument. That one occasion with the dude with the razor blade you might think steps outside the realm of your all-purpose bullying but I didn't really see that as bullying, it was something akin to a mugging, and it wasn't ongoing as bullying is, it was just some event that really had no ultimate consequence for me. The reality is that I've always been shy; it doesn't seem to be side-effect of being negatively treated, or the result of some psychological torment, it seems to be a natural apprehension. The human condition makes me self-conscious! I'm not some oppressed, frightful, downtrodden bitch who can't stand up for themselves because they lack self-esteem; I'm just very aware.

I always bring up this example too, but even when I was 2/3, when I couldn't even comprehend the nature of shame or embarrassment I would refuse to do anything at birthday parties other than Pass the Parcel. I dreaded everything else. I've actually gotten better since then so you can imagine the tenuous strings she was clutching on to.

Anyway, we shall resume. I said she was being arrogant and dismissive during this verbal attack, at which point she took up that stance where bitches are ready to get their 'OH NO YOU DI-ENT' on. She started rambling some CV grade bullshit about how she's the most open-minded person in the world and blah blah blah. Everyone says that of themselves and everyone thinks that of themselves. Everybody that thinks or says that is usually wrong, which isn't to say they are closed-minded, just not open-minded to the vain degree they express. She's probably as open-minded as society requires, which isn't much at all. Understand a paedophile. Understand a psychopath. Also, you'd think people that actually are open-minded wouldn't be accused of not being, and when they are, be open-minded about the idea that they're closed-minded. ZING, dumbass. She was basically disproving herself as we spoke, ignoring everything I was telling her while insisting she was right, when there's a higher order of logic even before assessing whether she was right or not: how she could fucking know at all. Ugh. Enraging.

Also, I feel like I should note her phrasing. 'The most open-minded person in the world'. That's the most God damned cliché way of putting it ever. It screams 'generally', like she hasn't thought about it, like all her cognitive ability is reductive and simplistic and relative to majority consciousness. I said to her about all of this, 'Well that's self-appointed so it doesn't really mean anything'. I don't think she heard though. I probably shouldn't say stuff like that anyway. When I do it either results in offence or I have to explain my way out of it.

Of this, her accusations resulted in a childish back and forth of 'not really', 'yeah you were', 'not really', 'yeah you were' not even in that bullshit flirtatious banter manner hoes sometimes adopt, that I covered a little bit of up there. My friend was nearby and he could see what was going on, and he inferred I didn't want to speak to her, and that she was being a dick, so he stood between me and the girl to interfere, so she might just fuck off. When she tried moving, he moved in her way and when she tried talking he shouted 'sausages!' Admittedly, that must have been annoying as hell. I was laughing too, but only at him being annoying, not like a vindictive spiteful cackle at her expense, which is about the only explanation I can think of for her behaviour. She has terrible social feelers if that was the case, not to mention deep rooted rejection and/or bullying memories to call upon. Shit, she could have been projecting her own 'issues' on me all night.

This torment culminated in the bitch flipping out like a 4 year old when they're being ignored and throwing her sippy-cup drink over my friend, and my friend consequentially throwing his drink on her, then she started shouting at him. Meanwhile, I was stood in the corner drinking my drink with a bemused sort of smile on my face, because really, what the fuck just happened? I then walk over to my friends near the door and we're sort of laughing and wondering what's going on, and she catches my eye and storms over shouting 'You! This is your fault! You were smiling!' Obviously if I wasn't smiling I was by that point, because that rationale was bat-shit ridiculous. Some dudes held her back and I went to use my phone, at which point she takes the opportunity to smack me in the face. My head turned to the right and I could be heard saying "oh my god, are you fucking kidding me?' This statement was partly due to the obscurity of getting punched, but mostly because it didn't hurt and she expected it to. It was strong enough to turn my head but for a punch it didn't hurt. I don't even have a bruise. I've given myself bruises from masturbating for fuck's sake, and I'm gentle, so getting 'punched' by this borderline mongoloid with the strength of a flabby 8 year old was really quite pathetic. The rest of the people supposedly stopping her embarrassing herself like this pulled her away again, and of course I'm smiling; this shit was funny. I was smiling harder. Smiling my ass off!

At this point I reverted back to my phone and she must have seen me smiling again because she dashed over and smacked me once more, at which point I semi-shouted at her, 'What are you doing? You think your pussy hands are going to make a difference?' Love that, 'pussy hands'. Thanks Mac. I don't really know what I meant by 'make a difference'. I guess I meant make a difference to the situation, or the horrific emotional depression she'd have you believe I'm suffering of.

The dude who's flat it was then asked me to go and sit in his room so he could defuse shit. Out of principle this was kind of unfair but I grant that it's easier to ask the reasonable party for compliance instead of the foaming-at-the-mouth retard swinging its arms around. At some point during all of this the cow lost a flip-flop (yes, a flip-flop) and my other mate watching from another area of the room picked it up and casually frizbee'd it out of the window. Class A badassery right there.

Obviously not so open minded is she? Not so open minded to... Erm... Whatever she thought I was doing or being. Introverted people? Anybody not a loud dickhead just talking to make noise? Shy people? Really? Shy people?! Surely they're the least offensive people. Anyway, open-minded people don't just smack people because their insane irrationality tells them to. Irrationality is the root to all closed-mindedness, and how somebody can prove so hard their own hypocrisy in the space of about 20 minutes is quite phenomenal. She should be a case study for bigotry.

In this other room I was sat with three girls, some dude with an afro (there was a disproportionate amount of people at this party with afros) and the sausages friend. We were discussing shit, and the dude who's flat it was kept coming in and giving us updates on what was going on. One of the girls presumed the bitch that hit me was my girlfriend, and I'd cheated on her or something, as did another dude in the other room (I heard later). Upon hearing this I became instantly terrified at the thought of everybody in the other room presuming I was her boyfriend, and deserved the smack(s). That would be some old bullshit now wouldn't it? Imagine the cold poetry of that: everybody presumes she's my girlfriend and I cheated on her because that's more plausible than her being some insane cunt that hits a stranger, when that's exactly what she is. Victim vilification. Fuck that. I think my friend put anybody thinking that straight though. Another girl, the boyfriend/cheater theorising girl's twin in fact, posited that it was all a result of sexual tension! But naw, that's not true. I told her if it was I was completely unaware and it was all on the crazy bitch's side. Maybe that's why she hit me, ha.

That's about it anyway. I went back in the main room after about half an hour and she stuck around for a while, keeping out of my way until she eventually just left. My friends have told me since that after the whole event she was trying really hard to win over the room, so I hope she didn't succeed at the foot of impressionable idiots. Slag.

There was one moment when I posted something on Facebook and my brother responded with 'This calls for a cunt punt, or punch her in the forehead so she has an obscure source of pain for the next week'. Well, me and the sausages guy were cracking up like you wouldn't believe, loud as hell too, and I swear she looked over thinking we were laughing at her. Sounds like an unresolved issue to me! Sounds like people would poke and laugh at her at school to me! Oooooh, issues. Insecure bitch.

Uhhhhh. I really don't know how her retard-mind worked in that situation. In her position, when the sausages dude was shouting 'sausages!' and boxing her out, I would think he was a dick if I didn't already know him. If she smacked him I'd get it, but I'd still think she was a dramatic mardarse for overreacting. Her beef wasn't with me at all, it was with sausages dude. The more I think about this the more incredibly dumb the whole thing becomes. I was the scapegoat. Open minded people don't blame scapegoats! Stupid, stupid fucking cunt.

That's the trouble here, and the trouble with nearly every confrontation: the enfeebled mind of your average human being. She probably thinks he was the one true dickhead of the situation for boxing her out (or shit, even me, for unknown reasons), but it never occurred to her she was agitating me and being an all around cunt, and that's the reason he stepped in. He was being a dick to her because she was being a dick to me. It's karma as realism. Be a dick to people and people will be a dick to you. Actions don't just have consequences, they beget the consequences of the actions carried out responding to them, which quite often come flying back in the instigators' faces and they rarely ascertain them to be justified. Of course, they're usually wrong about that, just too retarded and biased to know otherwise. Her ignorance can't be exonerating though, so she was wrong regardless of whether she knew it.

Fuck being at the whim of morons and their idiotic actions. That's some bullshit. Accidents I can accept but when a cretin effects me deliberately, precisely due to their being a cretin, that pisses me off and I'm just like fuck it, somebody get a brick to cave this defective creature's head in with.

I suppose I should have cunt punted her or booted her in the womb or something shouldn't I? You know, for feminism.

What a prick this guy was, eh?

2011-06-30T02:53:00.004+01:00

What a prick this guy was actually isn't the reason I posted this video; I just wanted to point out Jerry throwing down knowledge! About 5 minutes in GG goes "it's survival of the fittest" in defence of the rape and degradation he inflicted while on stage, and Jezzer says something like "it's only because society doesn't believe that that you're protected".

Good fucking point.

Wonderful

2011-06-28T17:33:00.005+01:00

Fucking wonderful. Do you remember that blog I wrote a while ago about my ignorance of the definition of the phrase 'la petite mort'? Well, this is another rather embarrassing story much like that one, except this one has been lying in wait for about 2 years, as I only just discovered how embarrassing it was about two minutes ago.

The setting was similar to the previous one, a university seminar. It was for a module called 'Utopias and Dystopias', which basically consisted of reading/watching/studying a shit load of culture in various forms in order to basically just discuss the concept of Utopia. Each week there tended to be a different tutor discussing something they're considered to be specialised in, and one week we got a feminist because it just wouldn't be university without a token feminist. She was discussing how Utopia and Dystopia alike are frequently tied in with Futurism. She was really tenuously linking shit back to Utopia; she was basically just talking about Science-Fiction. She came at us with a picture of the 50ft woman, from that film 'The Fifty Foot Woman'. Anyway, working that Futurist angle, she picked a 50s B-movie Science-Fiction film because the 50s are pretty famous for that shit, and because it was a time of great technological advancement, which obviously means shit is getting more utopiary. Haha, utopiary. Like the Garden of Eden eh? EH?! Anyway, I know it doesn't make sense much, I've actually been trying to figure out how she got away with chatting about what she did because in hindsight it doesn't seem terribly relevant. Fuck it anyway, it's not integral to the story. After discussing the 50ft woman, and her sexiness, and dystopianess (she was an apocalyptic event after all), she moved on to what was apparently a famous magazine at some point in time: Heavy Metal.

I should probably say at this point that this was a farce of a seminar, not because of the subject matter (although I guess I could say that), but because barely anybody turned up. People failing to turn up isn't uncommon but in a phenomenal twist of events, everybody apart from me and this dickhead I don't like failed to attend. The answer to why that happened eludes me. So it was me, señor dickhead, the tutor and her little apprentice. This I thought worth mentioning because at least there was some kind of damage limitation in place. I'm sure out of a full class (20-25 people), more of them would have picked up on my wee perverted fuck up.

Anyway, she showed us a cover from Heavy Metal which probably isn't representative of the magazine now I've researched it. It's usually some nerdy shit like this:

But this one was a portrait of female humanoid robot all in black (could have been latex if she didn't tell us it was a robot) sort of sitting back, with her plentiful bosom just well, right there. The tutor woman was relating the image back to the futurism as utopia thing her whole seminar seemed to rely on, and then she got her feminist on in way you can probably just imagine, because I forget what she actually said. At one point she asked my thoughts and I jumped right into my academic drivel. Towards the end I actually admitted to having seen the image before, and she was like "...you have?" and I said something like "Yeah, I remember it being something to do with Stephen King, but I'm not sure..."

Until now that was the end of that, but for a reason that I knew about 15 minutes ago and now can't remember, I just looked up Heavy Metal to see what it actually was. Wikipedia said this:

'Heavy Metal is an American science fiction and fantasy comics magazine, known primarily for its blend of dark fantasy/science fiction and erotica.'

Hm. Erotica eh? Wonderful. I don't even know where I've seen it. I do actually think it was something to do with Stephen King, like an advert in one of his books or something. Ughhhh.

I wondered why she blanked me when she saw me at the bus stop after class. It makes sense now; because I'm basically this pathetic, misogynist nerd-fantasy cartoon fetishist to her.

I'm glad that was cleared up.

Demon's Souls is Fucking Autistic

2011-06-14T20:13:00.003+01:00

I just put the game in for the first time after completing it the other week and attempted clearing a level I remember back to front from my time bump and grinding the shit out of it during my first play through.

So, I ran through it and died at the boss gate, then I tried it again and died, then I tried it again and basically gypped my way through the boss gate by goading the twat guarding it. I ran up to him, fired some fire balls then ran away until he lost interest, then I did it again until I killed him to death. After that I finally made my way into the boss gate. Upon entering I died instantly. 'Swell', I thought. I started the level again and did the same, before dying twice more, and then finally making some progress with the boss on the third try. The boss was going pretty well, and he had less than an eighth of health left, but oh, what's this? 'You have been signed out of the PlayStation Network. Returning to Main Menu.' Before I knew it the dickhead game had thrown me out of my own god damned offline game and brought me to the main menu, where I basically had to load my game and carry on.

This is something it did persistently during my first play through, but it dropped me back in the same footprints I left the game in, with the same variables in tact; equipment, souls, stats, enemy kills etc. It was mainly just an unnecessary irritation, but like with most things, unnecessary irritations and phenomenally bad timing can form an unholy alliance and result in the kind of cosmic shaftage that convinces a person God exists, and that he's a vindictive cunt.

Now, in my first play through these wee interruptions occurred quite frequently, but looking back, miraculously never did during a boss battle. You know what happens when they do? You load your game and you're dropped outside the boss gate with the same health, stats, souls and item usage as if you had already been through the boss gate, fought the boss for a little bit, and oh, I dunno, got them down to about and eighth or their life, except when you go back in the boss gate they're on full health again! Yay! Also, you die on your way in, then in your attempt to get back, you die on the way there, losing all the 50-odd thousand souls you'd accrued.

Fuck this game.

That was a total fucking win in the bag. I had a system going that just wouldn't have fucked up. Everything that happened after that would not have happened had the stupid asshole game not kicked me out. Yes, the dying was sort of my fault, but I wouldn't have been given the chance to die there had those total dickface developers not allowed that unfounded shit-munching, erm, thing in the game.

Why the shit does it even zap me out of my game when I get disconnected from the PSN? WHO GIVES A FUCK!? So I can see their gay little notes on the floor? Are they that important, fuck. Is it to stop people using pirate copies similar to that you-must-always-be-signed-in-and-monitored deal they have on some PC games? That might make sense if this game didn't let you play while you weren't signed in, but that's not true; it lets you play while signed in or out but if you sign out while you're already playing, fuck you. That's what it's like: 'fuck you', for no reason other than it's a cunt, and possibly autistic in the same kind of way that an autistic kid might flip out and scream like a retard if you put his beans to the right of his roast chicken as oppose to the left when it's dinner time.

I turned the machine off mid-death in the hopes that it might forget to save it. It's worked before, but I think I run the risk of shafting my entire save-file every time I do it.

But that's Demon's Souls, ahahhhhh... trails off.

Demon's Souls

2011-06-04T00:44:00.004+01:00

A few months ago I bought this game. Today I completed it. I hadn't played it since I bought it; I actually only finished world 1, level 1 up until about a week ago. Since then I've been balls deep in it.

It is a hard game, or so professes its reputation. Its reputation isn't wrong, just kind of misleading. It doesn't have any gameplay elements to it that are particularly harder than any other game, in fact bits of the God of War games were probably harder, and were at much faster paces. You also couldn't go back to previous worlds and grind like a bitch until you can take an axe square to the face and defeat your enemy with one flick to the nipple in God of War either. In Demon's Souls you can.

In a vacuum, this game isn't hard. Demon's Souls' difficulty lies more in the fact that it's a dick, more than it is hard. It's "difficult". Difficult describes it well. It's difficult like a child can be difficult when it doesn't want to go somewhere, or difficult like walking in gale force winds, or difficult like breathing on Mars. What would otherwise be a leisurely stroll with frequent breaks is impeded by the fact the kid is winging and staging tantrums, or the cunt wind (not cunt-wind) is blowing your hair all over your face and throwing you off balance, or what would just be breathing on Earth is impeded by the fact you're on fucking Mars.

For one, it has no pause button. I'm sure that morsel of information created some poignant imagery, and as far as I can fathom, this is the only reason there is no pause button - to gesticulate that this game will be a dick to you, and by virtue of that, be hard to complete. No pause button steps over the fucking line. It's effectively saying that the fact I need a piss and can't go and take one during the game contributes to how difficult the game is. That's obnoxious as hell! This is real world shit, this fucking game should know its place. And you know what it does about it? It shrugs. It shrugs while I piss my pants all in the name of proving myself to it.

Secondly, when you die you don't get a game-over screen and load it; you carry on. Due to the game never really being over in this way, any items you consume or weapons you use will remain consumed and worn, so with each death it effectively becomes harder to do what you were trying to last time. You are turned into "soul form" when you die, which basically means you get 50% health in return for +attack and -detection. You remain in soul form until you kill a boss demon. Upon dying, you lose any souls your were carrying, Sonic style. Although, they remain at the site of your death for you to reclaim rather than evaporating. But you know something? There was a reason you died where you did, and in a lot of cases reclaiming those souls is a fucking impossibility. After a while you learn to separate yourself from your instinct to hoard all your souls, and when trying to actually complete levels you forget about the souls, knowing that soul gathering is for the between times when you're grinding for them. Saying that is easier than practising that, because on one occasion I stormed through a level to its final boss and claimed about 50,000 souls (a large amount for my level) and was totally fucking shit-the-bed horrified at the thought of losing them, despite convincing myself on the way in that I could separate the hunger for souls and the need to just complete the level. The gods smiled on me that time, because I beat the boss first try.

That's another thing! The bosses on this game are really quite easy. There were a couple that I struggled with, mainly at the beginning, but almost every other boss I overestimated and they didn't take more than a couple of tries to beat. I don't know if that's deliberately something they wrote into the game or I was just overpowered from grinding, but I didn't really mind; I just didn't want to have to run through the level again to get to them.

That's my biggest beef with the game actually; that after you've collected hundreds of cure and health items indirectly from grinding, and know you don't really need the souls you're gathering when trying to complete a level (for the same reason), the only real fear from drying arises from the dreaded monotony and infuriation of having to travel through the level just to fight the boss again. I wish there was a better, or more relevant, way of making a player fear death than this.

There is no manual save function either; it saves after every action. This is presumably to stop people rewinding and overwriting their fuck-ups. Fuck-ups have no consequence if you can just load it after. Look at Red Dead Redemption - who even plays poker on that game without going all-in, and upon losing, loading the game to do it until they win? Not this guy. I suppose there's the additional difficulty of no manual saves if you consider potential corrupted save files through lack of a possible back-up to be part of the game too. I don't, because that's just retarded, but it's shit like this that makes the game difficult and uncooperative; the difference is they just happen to be deliberate.

I'm at odds with whether or not I consider this an incredible (which is to say not credible) method of altering a game's difficulty. It's like it rigs it. It's like asking you to walk down the street, then stipulates that you chop your legs off first. It's what a game would come out like if the mafia made it. It's like a cruel joke, like the developers are sat behind a one-way window laughing at the mouse trying to escape the maze when they keep fucking with the exit. You know the constraints of the game are arbitrary and it's all the more enraging because the only reason you are being punished is because the game says so, not because it makes sense. It's game-show logic. It's horrible psychological torture, but I wasn't balls deep in it for nothing. My dick was basically stuck in it. I was hooked.

However.

Did you like the pause for dramatic effect there? it didn't make grammatical sense, but it made theatrical sense so fuck you. I feel like before I continue into my explanation of why the volta in this blog decided to descend upon us at this point, I should explain another feature of the game. This being the fact that other players of the game can leave short multiple-choice formulated sentences on the floor to hint at things for other players, or help them in some way with what lies ahead. Along with this, you occasionally see apparitions of other players' final moments, so you don't do what they do and die. It's a nice idea. That is, until they fuck you over.

Here is where the however resumes. Staying true to Japanese RPG tradition - this being the absolute lack of empathy or leniency shown towards their player, gladly allowing them to play for 50 hours into a dead-end, or due to the game's own incommunication, allow the player to be shafted with no lube, right at the end of the game - I was stuck knowing I had finished it, but yet to complete the formalities. The woman told me to leave, but I hadn't really done anything. I killed some boss, but that shit was pathetic so I thought I had something else to come. Nothing was happening, and just leaving didn't make sense to me unless it triggered some arbitrary scene on my way out. I couldn't see that happening though; I was convinced it was one of those rhetorical moments in games where the characters are basically telling you to do something that you then have to not do, or do the opposite of because that's the only thing you can do and the game wants you to wrap up its story.

At this point I saw somebody's wee note on the floor. It said "Attack!". So far the notes had been helpful and it's not that this one wasn't, it just was when applied in the context of what was my opposite intention, although at the time I didn't know this, so I attacked. And so it was that I got the "bad" ending. There was no precedent for alternate endings. There was no karma system or anything that could have yielded one or the other. It was a completely superfluous choice right at the end. I thought that doing what the note said was the only option. I just figured it was some stupid twist. Gahhh. Worst of all, this choice shafted me out of a trophy.

I like trophies; they're like check-lists. Not having that trophy checked off really fucking twists the knife in the side of my relative perfectionism. It makes everything feel incomplete and disorganised. I hate it. It happened with Bioshock 2. I didn't use the camera for the end of like one level, and completely shafted myself out of that "all enemies photographed to max XP" trophy because the one enemy I hadn't done fully only spawned on that level, and the game doesn't let you go back. I only realised this after it was too late to load it.

This is why you need manual saves, Demon's Souls, not so I can abuse it, but just to cover your fucking ignorance towards me. I talked about fuck-ups earlier, but this was meant to be a conscious decision, not an accident. This wasn't my fuck-up, it was you being too cool and vague that led me to fuck up. But, would you consider that part of the game's difficulty? I think to an extent I would, but when it causes shit like this it's just unreasonable. If you're a dick that doesn't tell people stuff of course you're going to be difficult to interact with.

Now I have to complete the game in the "New Game+" mode, which is basically a mode that carries over your stats and equipment, only 40% harder, however it is that they quantify that. I wouldn't mind as much if there was an equal trophy for the "bad" ending. That would be tidy; that would be how it goes. There isn't though; it's like I never completed it at all. I haven't been pissed off at a game like this since Fallout 3 locked me in a room after I finished the final mission, and made me pay £8 to get out of it a year and a half later.

WUT WUTTTTTTTTT... eh

2011-05-15T04:31:00.002+01:00

Well hello there. It's been a bit of a while. I don't really have an explanation for that.

If you're a girl aged between 14 and 24 with an inclination towards the emo and/or pseudo punk aesthetic, contrived and convoluted mannerisms, 'alternative' interests, more mascara than Batman, small conical shaped pre-teen tits and a YouTube account where you post videos of your face talking about bullshit nobody cares about, GET THE FUCK OFF THE INTERNET.

As cute as you all affect to be, I'd probably straight puke in your mouth if it came to it.

You know the kind. They're practically an internet archetype, as are their fans: sad assholes who trawl through their object of lust's Amazon wish-lists and buy them Hello Kitty bed covers in return for some cutesie shout out in web-translation Japanese and culturally insulting pronunciation, or some Juno-esque gang signs and ironic ebonics.

Sweet Jesus, I am sick of these bitches. Go get a boyfriend if you want compliments. Go get some self-esteem through healthier means, like self-respect, not disposable fixes of egotism from pathetic bull-dog looking dudes on the internet.

Uhhhhhhhh.

People are corny as shit.

Dub

2011-04-15T00:44:00.003+01:00

I keep reading and hearing Dubstep referred to as "Dub". Dub is something different. I'm sure Dubstep has some etymological association with Dub but there's a reason they're separate: because they're different.

Anyway, I'm calling this now so anybody passing through here can all awe at my prediction when it comes true in a few years: if this fast and loose usage of the word "Dub"continues, it will go the way of the word "Indie" in the sense that Indie in mainstream consciousness doesn't at all describe what it actually is, only the appropriated, customised definition.

Ughhhhhhhhhh. Gimme something to talk about, shit.

Doppleganger

2011-04-02T22:01:00.003+01:00

What, what is this?

Chamillionaire and... and Ugly Betty?!

They... they look so alike!

Sweet Jesus.

Gratitude

2011-03-31T22:52:00.004+01:00

This is one of the trickier social customs.

Personally, I'm not very good at communicating my gratitude to people. There's a certain degree of acting involved that I'm just not willing to comply with, so I fear people think me ungrateful. I always think of it as an ultimate gratitude though, like one that even if the person that gave me the thing doesn't know about, still exists, so at least I know it does actually exist even if my physical participation in the expected fanfare is lacking. Knowing this, I tend to get all ironic and obvious about the fact I can't express my gratitude as well as I'd like, but that the gift-giver should rest assured that I am very, very grateful. That's how I say thanks. I say hello to people I don't know very well similarly, that's if I don't pretend to have a text when they walk past, or rub my eyes, or cross the street, or turn around and run away.

I make a point of discussing this because at work on Wednesday this girl brought in like thirty French strawberry dessert things for everyone. Her mum had made them for us. I was like WHAT THE FUCK, HOW DO I REACT TO THIS, THAT'S SO GOD DAMNED NICE OF HER. It was too nice, to the point where I resented her for it. It meant it put me in a position where I had to effectively communicate my gratitude, which I know I can't do very well. The interesting thing was I think that she sensed that. As in, I think she knew I would be too 'polite' to take one, and you know what, I probably would have been if it wasn't for the fact it would be really obvious if I didn't take one. She was sat next to me and they were right in front of me. Also, I was kind of thrust into participating because the dude to my right was like "can you pass me one of those please?" and I went to grab them to pass them to him and realised as I did it I was initiating their consumption! I shat myself and blurted out that it was for the other dude, all amidst flamboyant hand-gestures signalling that it was for him, and not me. She said something like "yeah, take one, everyone, just grab one" and then she turned to me and was like "seriously Mr. Pseudonym, have one, really" in like a sympathetic tone. I think directly addressing me sealed it. If she didn't, I probably wouldn't have had one. A girl the week before made brownies for everyone and I didn't take one because I knew I could get away with it. I was sat on a corner, slightly facing away from the table, but still at it. It's my natural reaction to distance myself from that type of thing, and just kind of view everybody else participating. I don't know why. I mean, I can identify all the reasons I don't, but not why it's instinctual for me to do that. I never played musical chairs at parties when I was a kid either, or anything similar. I only played pass the parcel and would cry if somebody made me do anything else. I always say no when people offer me stuff like chewing gum too, even if I kind of want it. I know part of the reason I say no is because I know everybody else will say yes, so I remove myself from being responsible for the fact that now three-quarter's of this dude's Tic Tacs are gone, but at least I know I saved him one more. But, that's not the main reason; I don't know what is.

My workplace is a fucking horrifying body-snatchers type universe for 'common' courtesy though. There's nothing common about that shit. It's very, very uncommon. Bordering on grotesque courtesy. Let me explain.

It's nuts how far people go above and beyond the call of duty when holding doors open for people at work. In public general protocol is that you hold the door open for as long as it takes you to walk through it, and as long as your arms can reach as you move further from it, then, if nobody is there to grab it before your distance from the door surpasses the length of your arm, tough shit. Sometimes you can wait, but never longer than 2 seconds. 2 seconds is pushing it. 2 seconds becomes awkward. At work people will gladly hold the door for like 10 straight seconds. Seriously, they do that shit from like 50 paces away, and wait the whole time. That puts me in an awkward position, literally; I have to then do a gay little jog to get the door in order to reciprocate their courtesy and express my gratitude. It's bad when you go through four sets of doors with the same dude in front too, holding it each time. That's four thank yous in the space of like 20 seconds. Any idea how retarded you think you sound saying thank you that often? You try and vary the way you say it but there aren't that many ways to switch it up. You have "thanks" and "cheers" and that's about it. I said "thanks again" once and did a little chuckle to break it up, but the dude didn't laugh. Fuck him.

Anyway, people kept making a point of thanking the girl for her desserts, and I kept kind of jumping on the tail-end of their thanks with shit like "yeah, that's really nice of you" hoping she might hear and know I'm not some ungrateful twat that eats her mum's desserts and doesn't say thank you.

I'm just some ultra self-aware twat that can't say thank you.

You Got Me

2011-03-24T19:18:00.007Z

Last week, or some time in the not so distant past, I bought some beer with a friend. I think the whole ordeal set the high score for most face-palm worthy embarrassment in my mate's house.

Here's a pictorial overview of what happened. We saw this:

When it was actually this:

Smooth, eh? It's okay, it's not like they dedicated a third of the entire packaging to clearly advertise the fact it is non-alcoholic is it?

Grumble.

What's smoother is that we didn't realise for a whole 30 minutes after buying it. And we were off chuckling at our other friend because he dropped his beer at the counter. At least he bought alcoholic beer. What's smoother still is the fact that the fucking cash register lady asked us for ID and was stifling her laughter the whole time. This I personally didn't realise until my mate told me. What she was laughing at didn't click at the time. She must have known and was silently owning us all to all hell, the cackling harpy! Well lady, you know what? I hope that all you ever wanted was a baby and you get OVARIAN CANCER. MUHAHAA. As for Tesco, fuck Tesco. I'm not buying from Tesco again, and I will get my £3 back someday, even if I have to steal it in grapes over a 20 year period.

The price should have informed us there was something non-alcoholy about it all. It's not so out of the realms of possibility though. It could have been those shitty stubby bottles, or old stock, or some dodgy version of Becks, or plainly, just some major sale. I guess not though.

The worst part of all of this is that once we got back to my mate's house, we were actually leaving for the bar 2 minutes later; we never needed pre-drink alcohol to begin with!

Mind blown

2011-03-23T19:55:00.002Z

Am I the only person that always thought these things were meant to be shaped like hand grenades? I remember them from when I was like 5, and even then those bastards were hand-grenades to me. Always were.

I just realised they're barrels.

Newsflash!

2011-03-11T18:09:00.001Z

Cancer doesn't give a fuck if you're running for it.

Paid Lunch Breaks!

2011-02-21T18:00:00.003Z

Turns out I get these. All is well, then. However, I still feel it is an injustice, only one that I now don't give as much of a fuck about due to the fact it doesn't affect me.

Thought #65 - The System

2011-02-20T17:04:00.005Z

Some corny people always go on about not wanting to work for "the man" or be a part of "the system". Did these people ever consider being an active saboteur within the system and basically just making it less efficient by doing the jobs, but very slowly and ineffectually? There will always be some eager chump ready to take your place and complete the job to its expected level so you may as well occupy their potential position and do it worse than they would! That would hurt the system, not just ignore it!

Come on guys. Retire the passive conscientious objector role and start that revolution you're always talking about, instead of redecorating your bathroom with posters of random Egyptians you saw on the news.

OH.

Thought #64 - Deadmau5

2011-02-20T16:42:00.003Z

This guy and his fan-base would be a good case study for the power of social influence on music choice and its perceived credibility regardless of way the music actually sounds, especially when that sound is so close to one perceived as not credible.

In short, dude sounds like straight 'ump-ts-ump-ts-ump-ts' Dance music, which is generally scoffed at, yet people seem to like to pretend he's something more credible than that.

Maybe that's just post-modernism for you, and that whole self-referential cycle of irony and worn ideas being worn again, making everyone like "oh this is nostalgic; this is a novelty; this is a cultural reference; this is an homage!" It's like the new-wave Grindhouse films; out of context they'd just be high-budget B-movies. That isn't to say I don't like some of those new-wave Grindhouse films, but I don't pretend not to like B-movies either.

Now, I must admit that I copied and pasted the majority of what has been said up to this point from something I said in an e-mail with a dude that reads this blog. I should also probably admit that I probably wouldn't admit that if he didn't read the blog. Wudevvah!

Unpaid Lunch Breaks!

2011-02-20T16:18:00.005Z

Fuck this whole concept. I start a job tomorrow but the breaks and lunch periods are unpaid. All you hardened work veterans are probably turning your face inside out now like "ohhh, welcome to the real world, hohoho". Fuck you. I know it's the norm and I'm not bitching about it with the kind of indignation of a spoilt, middle-class brat. I'm just saying, shit.

I know I shouldn't be paid for time spent not working for the people paying me, but they take a certain freedom from me and anyone in work by having kind of stranded us in that situation. If I worked from home, that's my environment so that'd be a just scenario of an unpaid break (although you could argue that the 30 minutes to an hour window limit your freedom too). As it stands though, it's as if I work on a desert island. When I'm working for them it's fine because that's the trade off - my time and labour for their money but when the breaks are unpaid that switches to my time. However, it's not strictly my time. It's like my time in a vacuum, or relative to the situation they caused. It's being free to go knock coconuts out of trees for thirty minutes but that's not what I'd choose to do with my own time; that's what I'd choose to if I was trapped in the circumstances they caused. I'd actually much rather work through and get off early, but I dunno if they give that option yet. If they don't then I'm not at liberty to do what I want with the time because it's limited by them employing me on a fucking desert island. If they paid or compensated me for those breaks it would revert to the trade off and everything would be peachy again.

As it stands it's probably the mildest oppression imaginable, haha. Get my union on this!

Travelling times are a similar thing, but less practically resolved. You'd get motherfuckers commuting from New Zealand just to milk it.

Facebook "Rape"

2011-02-15T03:31:00.004Z

Rape? RAPE!? How did this terminology come to be? It's not even close to rape.

If Facebook rape is any crime it's more like identity fraud (in fact that's exactly what it is) except nobody is stealing money or sneaking into the country, they're just wearing your face and calling themselves gay. But if it must be a sexual crime, it's more like asking somebody to call themselves a slut while you slap their titties around, but even then the ruse of the symbolism is broken because the other person knows they're saying it. That'd be like the victim overseeing and allowing somebody to go on their account and say they like waking up to big fat latino cocks resting on their forehead. It's actually exactly like possessing somebody. It should be called "Facebook Possession", but instead of thinking of the relevant word, people just stick rape on the end as if it's a catch-all term.

"Yo dude, I totally got raped in the train station the other day"

"What, you got RAPED? IN. THE. ASS!?"

"Um, nah, I dropped my slushy."

The rape seems to be more about the fact you got raped than what is said during the rape anyway. In this instance it would actually be like rape because nobody tends to ask what hole you were raped in; it's usually implied. Well, except sexual forensic scientists. Haha, I think I just made that job title up. Fuck you; you know what I mean. When they're getting all chatty and shit about how they were raped, that's when people should ask in what hole it was. You might get some fakers who were only made to give sweaty hand-jobs. That's not rape worthy, that's Repetitive Strain Injury worthy at most. Is there a range both genitalia have to be within for it to be considered rape? Hmm. Is getting face-fucked rape? Is there like a bright flash when both genitalia connect that makes it rape? What if the dude just kind of flicked his knob on her pubic hair then went home? Is that rape? Oh man, you totally know that bitch would tell everyone she just got raped regardless though, and full on tell motherfuckers in court she got raped. I don't consider face-fucking rape to the same degree. It's like between rape and grievous sexual assault. Hmm. Is anal rape only considered rape because it's near the cock and balls and kind of like a vagina in its positioning, similar relative inertness, and well, hole-ness?

These are all questions you should be asking.

Oh, wait a minute. Is rape when you're fucked in a hole you can contract venereal disease from sticking your dick into? I THINK THAT MIGHT BE IT. That would make forced blowjobs rape though. Pesky herpes screwing up my whole categorisation system. How about when you're fucked in a hole you can catch a viral STD from? I know what you're thinking, "what about spit Dr. Pseudonym?" Well, young padawan, spit, you see, isn't very good at carrying STDs! It would take around 20 buckets of an HIV positive person's spit to stand a chance of getting AIDS from it!" Haaaa, I don't know if that's true for all diseases, but until doctors and legal people straight up say "for the last time blowjobs don't count and that's that!" this system fixes all the bureaucratic oversights.

Okay, as far as I'm concerned, it goes pussy rape, butt-hole rape, then mouth sort-of-rape, in that order. They're the three degrees of rape.

Facebook isn't one of them.

...

Too dark? Fuck it.

I was raped once. Didn't work. Facebook rape, that is. See the confusion I'm talking about?

Anyway, you know why it didn't work? I'm immune. I say a whole bunch of stupid shit and like 80% of what I do say is sarcastic as fuck, so if I do say some shit like "I'm gay" people just think it's me and I'm being a dick. The only way motherfuckers know about my rape is when there's shoddy grammar and wrong use of punctuation. I don't stand for that shit. But maybe people would think I anticipated the poor grammar and punctuation so I'm immune all over!

Right, bed time.

Comical Nostalgia

2011-02-15T00:46:00.006Z

Did you like my last little story from a strange moment in my life? Here's another.

I was in high school and must have been in year 7, or 8, which is to say 5th or 6th grade in Middle School if you're American, or plain old 11-12 years old. I was in History class and we were studying the Great Fire of London. Around this general time in my life my friend kept bringing up '666' and wouldn't tell me what it meant. He gave me a phone number that ended in 666 and I texted it one day, and got a response along the lines of "mediums don't only speak to ghosts" in return. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I asked my Gran and she told me it meant the devil, so I was like "ooooh, that makes sense then." She asked me why I was asking so I told her about the phone number. She got all agitated and even though she's closer to unreligious than religious, she's still pretty superstitious so told me not to fuck with it. In the future I would go on to t-bag a Ouija Board as it spelt out "on the head of your children be it", whatever that means. But that's another story.

Anyway, the Great Fire of London. Oh what a great fire it was. That's something that totally wouldn't happen now, isn't it? Not due to some dipshit baker leaving his oven on overnight anyway. It's like that Irish potato famine. That's some fucking olden times problem. How the fuck did a drunken hobo smoking his opium not set it all ablaze sooner? Shit, how didn't it happen every day if this city is just one giant fire hazard? We'll never know, I guess.

This is the comical nostalgic moment we've been working towards, so brace yourself. It may come as no surprise to the Mark Corrigans among you that the Great Fire of London occurred in 1666 (for the non-Peep Show watchers among you, you're fucked on figuring out that allusion). But what was this? 666?! Fire?! THIS MUST BE THE WORK OF THE DEVIL. I enthusiastically stretched my arm up to attract the attention of the teacher. She scuttled over and asked what the matter was. She leaned over my desk while my heart palpitated for what I had just realised. It wasn't the baker at all; it was the fucking devil. I had cracked it! Then I, in all fucking seriousness, in my most authentic sincere tone inquired "could this be the work of the devil?" and pointed to the pertinent information. She sighed and stood back. "No", she said disappointedly, and walked back to her desk. Disillusioned, I closed the text book and tried to forget all about it.

I was convinced it was the work of the devil; this was hard evidence! I wasn't even taking the piss like many a student are wont to do.

I believed it.

You're thinking "oh this is just regular old milk" right?

2011-02-04T14:12:00.006Z

WRONG!

It's white chocolate flavoured milk! I went to the supermarket today, and I got white chocolate flavoured milk. Try it some time.

I've also been playing Final Fantasy XIII. I came back to it to do the C'ieth Stone missions and max out my characters' XP. Now I get to do it with white chocolate flavoured milk. Only at Morrison's.

Actually it's probably all over, not just at Morrison's. I'm also pretty sure Morrison's don't have an apostrophe in their title, but fuck them; let's rebel by using correct grammar and punctuation!

Hopefully this worthless post got at least one chuckle, then it shall have been a success.

An Embarrassing Moment

2011-02-03T18:50:00.005Z

I don't really know why I'm admitting this to my pitifully numbered readership, I think it's because it haunts me whenever I hear or read the phrase "la petit mort", and not because I once fucked a girl and pretended my lack of a boner was actually just a small penis, or because I jizzed in my pants upon seeing a girl's hairy nipple and the ejaculate filtered through the fabric in my pants, looking something like soup through a sieve. No, none of those. Those are other stories.

It was last year, when I was still at university. This girl in my class wrote a poem that was irritatingly vague and full of distanced metaphors so you didn't really know what the fuck she was specifically talking about. It was called "On the [some verb] of Accounting". You basically got away with knowing it was about a boy she liked, or went out with, but it was so blurred in her own fucking intellectual masturbation that it pissed me off. I think I deleted everybody's work after I finished the semester, so I no longer have it. I do remember the overall impression I got was that it was contrived and affecting to come off in some kind of stylish way, like she - the writer, not the character - was pretending she wasn't invested in it. It was subtly feminist in that sense too, because the modern woman can't be shown to care about a man now can they? They have to be all sarcastic and save face and nonchalantly smoke a cigarette or some shit. Anyway, it was like the literary equivalent of a shrug, but a very awkward, unconvincing shrug.

Okay, so part of the way through this poem of hers she said something like "that small, messy death" and seeing as we all had to comment on the poem, I said the word choice was interesting, to which she started giggling. Throughout the poem she was dropping allusions to Paris and France, which I found mildly irritating given my previously outlined reasoning but it held some other significance too., that shall be revealed further down this page. At this point I was like "the fuck is she giggling about?" I think my next mistake, and practically the inciting incident of all this was asking what, exactly, that last section was about, especially the France shit. She started laughing a bit more in a kind of condescending way and said "have you heard of the small death?" and I was like "la petite mort?" and she was like "yeah..." and I cut her off like "aaaah right, le petite mort, okay" and she started laughing more when I got it. I still didn't know what it meant; I just knew I'd heard of it and presumed it was some literary allusion I was just unfamiliar with. I looked it up after the seminar and I came face to face with perhaps the worst definition it could have been- "metaphor for orgasm". The whole time I'm there chatting on about how I like how she describes her orgasm and then there's the whole premise that I understand what "le petite mort" is after it comes to light that I've heard of it, which implies I knew what I was saying when I was complimenting it. Jesus fucking Christ. In hindsight it's actually pretty grotesque wording. "Messy", EEEEW. This girl looked like Cruella de Vil by the way too. Not a nice image. I never saw her again after that and I don't know if that's just coincidence. I preferred it that way anyway, she was a dick.

Shit, somehow I avoided the definition to that phrase my whole life. I asked a some guys later and they didn't know it either; one of them was in the same damn seminar. Apparently I was ahead just having heard of the phrase. God damn it. There's always a risk of things like this happening with poetry. People normally remain vague with their responses and utilises the given assumption that everybody understands what they're reading.

I should do that next time.

Minor Irritation

2011-02-01T05:38:00.004Z

I just searched Aschaaa Rofff on Wikipedia, actually the semi-famous rapper whose name possesses similar phonetic qualities to that previous display of retarded non-words, but I'm reluctant to write his name as its spelt because it will give him +1 to Google results even though I already did once in another blog. BUTFUCKYOU, and fuck him.

The reason I was doing this was because I saw the line-up for the Paid Dues festival this year. I can't go, it's in America, and even if I could go, I'd go to Soundset. Paid Dues has some shit sometimes, and in a wonderful segue, Asher Roth was one of the shits in this line-up. I ended up on Rivers Kimono... excuse me, Rivers Cuomo's page, because Aschaaa Rofff sampled a Weezer track, or his producer did. Anyway, Rivers is the lead singer and composer/guitarists in Weezer. Keep up. He likes to go DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN.... DUN DUN DUN a lot. That's almost exclusively what every Weezer riff sounds like, save for a few. One was the Aschaaa Rofff track - a song in which I was advised to wear two condoms, which has consequentially resulted in me never wearing a condom ever again; because of this I have now contracted venereal disease.

I was looking for the reason behind Rivers's (yes, his name is plural) wacky ass name and figured his parents were probably artists, hippies, or lived on a commune. Turned out to be the latter, some yoga farm. It also said this:

"His mother, Beverly, was inspired to name her son 'Rivers' because he was born between the East and Hudson rivers in Manhattan."

You mean like the hundreds of thousands of people a year born in Manhattan are? That's just dumb. Apparently she also liked the sound of running water. It appears I've regressed into my 6 year old self, poking fun at people's names. Oh well, so be it.

Anyway, this is where the irritation flared up and also where this blog comes to an end.

Good morning.

Muslim Dating

2011-01-19T04:04:00.009Z

I just spotted this advertisement while browsing the web:

I love the idea of some lonely Muslim dude sifting through endless pages of Muslim women dressed in full on Muslim get-up, all desperately trying to communicate their sexual intent with only their eyes. Occasionally you might get a naughty girl who dips the scarf just to the tip of her nose, as the enticing graphic shows.I imagine in western culture this would be the equivalent of a girl walking around in Daisy Dukes, showing a bit of cleavage or wearing one of those shirts that cut off at the waist, exposing the cheap jewel pierced through their belly-button.

I'm not sure if this is a thing already, but my friend developed a grading system for Muslim garb. If you people aren't Muslims, well, I'm sorry but I don't give enough of a shit to rectify my ignorance.

Phase 1 goes a little something like this:

Also known as hussies. Now I say Phase 1 is like this, but I seem to remember always getting the phases screwed up. Phase 1 could in fact just be a forehead cover head-band type of situation, but whatever.

Phase 2 is like this:

Personally I don't see what the forehead has to offer but whatever, I didn't create this religion.

Finally, you guessed it, Phase 3 is like this:

Full on fucking ninja Muslim.

Cracked.com

2011-01-12T23:43:00.004Z

Ever been to this site? I link and mention it frequently... ish. Okay, maybe not frequently when compared to how many blogs I've written, but frequently for how often I link to websites.

The way their articles actually get written is basically any old schmuck signing up for their forum, requesting to be approved with this title that gains them access to the any old schmuck who wants to write for Cracked forum, and as far as I know you pick a topic from a list, or propose one or something and they buy it if it's good. Those latter details are sketchy because I've never seen the forum. This is all myth and legend from what they tell you on the "write for us" page.

Anyway, I signed up just before Christmas and they say to be patient because there's seriously thousands of schmucky jabronis asking to be a part of it. I have no idea how to check if I've been approved, or what title it gives me to check, or even what forum I'm meant to be able to access once they have. I should really read their instructions.

But that's not why I'm posting this. Although it could be interesting progression in my life if you feel like you've developed an emotional attachment to old man Pseudonym. I'm posting because at all costs, avoid their forum. It's potentially the most insufferable fucking place on the internet. Every single post is used as an opportunity to shine their big old comedic balls. All of it is unfunny, forced attempts at being even mediocre comedians at best. Nothing worse than a mediocre comedian. All comedians have that detestable kind of attitude where they think they're funny but it's worse if they aren't. It's a certain breed of arrogance and it makes them smarmy motherfuckers. Imagine a thousand of those people all in one place. Horrible.

Oh well. I hope I figure out how to access that any old schmuck forum so I can submit something. I really like the site and you keep-on-coming-backers seem to dig all this bullshit, so maybe other people will too. They pay $50 for articles as well, and I could say I've done some "freelance writing" to prospective employers. That sounds a little cooler than I'm comfortable with but employment is basically one giant conceit anyway.

Until then I'll stick to working on how I can effortlessly slip the words "schmuck" and "jabroni" into general conversation.

Thought #63 - Disequilibrium

2011-01-09T03:33:00.005Z

You always know the equilibrium is coming but convincing TV is basically the ability to fool you into thinking it's plausible.

Alcohol is Terrible at Being a Drug

2011-01-01T15:44:00.007Z

This blog might not be what you're expecting, and the title is more of a tenuously linked, yet truthful observation than a topic for this whole thing. I'm not going to regale you with tails of drunken regret and Hollyoaks storylines. Although last night did present a situation that looked like a Justin Beiber video mashed up with the tans, muscles and inane drama of Jersey Shore but with the accents and terrible acting of Coronation Street.

Anyway, before we get under way, something you must understand here is my stance on musical opinion. I've said a lot of times that I have moral and musical objections, and the musical objections are irrelevant. However, this doesn't mean I won't impart them anyway. This is where I got in a wee sticky situation!

Not really though. It wasn't too sticky. I was basically cracking jokes all night to my friends when a new song came on and I'd be like "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG!" and just in case the degree to which I committed to the ruse of my sarcasm fooled you into thinking I was being serious, the bellows of laughter that shortly followed should have given you a clue. I remember doing this twice, which doesn't mean I didn't do it again, or more times.

I feel like at this juncture I must describe what music was playing. Well, imagine you walked into a room and the music that was playing was coming from the TV, and turned to MTV. Now imagine that that TV is muted, something else is playing through an iPod and what is actually playing on the TV looks preferable. That's how bad it was. We're talking House music that was out-dated in its day, and those corny 90s Dance songs. Not like 'Rhythm is a Dancer' or any of those novelty ones though, we were dealing with DJ Sammy type abominations to music. Scally Dance. Back-of-the-bus-through-mobile-phones Dance. I asked my mate's flatmate at one point if the TV music was playing, because how the fuck am I to know what videos match songs nowadays? He said yeah, but he was lying! It was a wee joke. It's okay though, and I said this, all that means is that they're actually CHOOSING to listen to such shite.

Okay, now we can continue. So I was sat there with my mate and one of these horrid tracks ended and this girl was flicking through what I presume was her iPod to find another track. This girl too, is the type of girl that isn't as pretty as her friends, but you'd still fuck her, but because of that handicap she's kind of loud and overt to make up for it, even sober. She'd be the type of bitch that if you were walking down the street in town at night and she was coming your way, drunk with her friends, you'd cringe as you approached her because it's completely likely she'll say something risqué or grab or smack your arse on the way past. Some mildly outrageous gesture anyway. She also painted on her eyebrows and had those pants on that, no matter how old the wearers physically are, make their arse look like a 70 year old woman’s. I have no idea what the fuck kind of illusions those pants pull, or their name, but these bitches where them high at the waste and they sort of come down thinner towards the ankle. They are a mess. Fuck fashion fucking up girl’s butts. I should be the only one fucking up girl's butts! But yeah, I like girls in jeans, that works.

When she was flicking through the iPod I said to my mate in a tone that if you know me you know is a conceit and I'm just acting serious and harsh for comic effect, "Yeah, put on your DJ Tiesto and more fucking shitty House music." I actually do mean both of those things and the degree of harshness probably reflects my disdain for them accurately too, but you typically don't say that to sympathisers. I wasn't even saying it to her, I was just drunk, speaking in her direction and didn't realise how loud I was actually speaking. It was more like a passing comment about the music than an attack on the girl choosing the music, even though I worded it like it was her fault and I'm aware in saying it, it does comment on her for having picked it. I'd have a really hard time defending that comment in court, but fuck it. You believe me, right? At this point she turned around and major overreacted. She shouted and called me dickface before telling me to sort my life out. I'm unsure if she caught my other jabs at it throughout the night. I spent most of hiding from everyone on the balcony though.

I presume she heard me.

I responded with a chuckle as if bemused at her rage. If it was in words I would have said something like "haha, that was a major response."

A moment though, if you please. "Dickface", really? Again? Do these people think they're being clever or progressive with their insults? "Dickface... yeahhh! It's usually dickhead see, but it'll be way funnier if I say face instead." Saying that, my face may actually just look like a penis, so who's to tell? When two people use the exact same adjective to describe me maybe I should start considering the idea that it's true. Or not. I'll go with option one.

I didn't really give a shit at the time because even though I was a dick, I was right. It was like telling a fat person they're fat, or a retard they’re retarded. It's cruel but it's true. Just like with this! She is almost handicapped in her music taste, and if that is what she likes she can’t help it, but it is bad music.

At another, later, point in the night she said some shit that I don't remember but I responded with "well you work at Next so shut the fuck up." For my foreign family, Next is a semi-high-street clothing chain-store in the UK. I may actually be wrongly assuming they are only in the UK, but I've never seen them anywhere apart from British colonies, like Gibraltar. They have a Morrison's and everything. She is totally the kind of girl they employ: life-long mid-level socialite, middle to upper working class family, watches Big Brother, reads celebrity magazines, likes talking about clothes and going out on the weekend, probably dabbled in bullying at school. So the implied insult was basically she's a typical dumb bitch with a job that reflects that. Oh well. She is.

Moving on.

This place has acted as a little keyboard confessional for me for years, only I tend to confess everyone else's sins on their account. AY-OHHHHHHH! But really, now I feel sort of a dick for it, because it was a pretty dickface thing to do. I didn’t mean it as such though, as I’ve stated. My musical opinion was irrelevant to her, but it was worded insultingly. It’s unfortunate she was in ear-shot. That’s alcohol’s fault. Fuck alcohol. I say everything that comes to mind when I’m drunk. However, it is pretty hard to defend the honour of your music taste when it is that bad. We're talking universally bad too. Post-modernism has a line, okay; not everything can be considered of equal artistic merit.

I think I’ll take this moment to slot in some socio-musical theory! Musical opinion in an argument over music is irrelevant, but in this instance this isn't about music; music is a variable and only really selected due to its thematic precedence in this blog. I could easily be talking about clothing here. I like to question the validity and with what degree of objectivity a person's preference or culture was arrived at. There's an anthropological and sociological aspect to the music people choose to listen to, and what music sounds good to people is completely an environmental thing. You aren't born with an innate love for music; you learn it and it refines and grows based on whatever variables fly at you.

You might say to this that nobody's taste is valid because it's all to do with the luck of the draw of environment. That's not completely relevant though because it doesn’t apply to everybody, or even the most subtly eclectically inclined. It just applies to that 40th-60th percentile of human beings who let their environment define them completely - the zombies with no stake in themselves and who wait for the puppet master to yank their strings. To put it less metaphorically, live life just reacting. By default, they’re motionless.

It’s not an intelligence thing either, although I'm pretty certain that if I collected enough relevant data there would be a positive correlation between certain music genres and the relative lower IQ of its listeners, but that's another matter. I’m actually going to write another blog on what I mean when I call somebody a moron. It’s generally not a measureable intelligence I’m talking about, it’s more like a wisdom or an acute awareness, and to me lacking that is the worst defect a human can possess. Even so though, as I've experienced this trait tends to favour the measurably intelligent.

Anyway, Music choice is one of many social cursors. Because you can count on the majority of humanity's complacency with being one of a million, rather than one in a million, these cursors often function as a basis for generalisation. It's the same with clothes. These cursors aren't completely telling though, they're more like accompanying supporting information. But you really can't deny that there are cultural types of people, at least in the culture I can speak for. If there weren’t, no stereotypes would exist at all.

My point here is that this occurred tonight. That broad was like a fucking rhinoceros in the wild and I was the zoologist spying on her from a bush and making notes. Her music choice helped define her for me and pretty much corroborated what she proved to be over the course of the night and what everybody who knows her has told me about her since. It wasn't surprising. She does subscribe to a cultural type and actually lines up closely with the assumptions her music taste implies. You don't get the same correlation with Classical music listeners, or the generic Rock listener; they each have their own conforming characteristics. It's no coincidence she matches up. Another friend I knew there actually works with her and he was applauding me for "ripping her" because apparently she's a bit of a dick herself.

But yeah, not everyone is a beautiful unique snowflake, some are pressed through moulds on the big old cosmic conveyor belt.

That’s about all I have to say on that hoe. Now, I shall briefly cover the little drama that unfolded. It’s actually not that interesting, but stay tuned because the way I word things is fun. In fact the only reason I included this next part is because I thought of a cool little line about being overdressed to slip in. You’ll see it. You fucking WANT to see it now. I reeled you in. You’re hooked now. Okay, here goes.

I actually have no great idea of what happened, only that my voice had gone from screaming/singing at people from the balcony to the street below and making up rhymes describing what they were doing. I like to think that the guy next to the lamp-post moved from the lamp-post because I told him he was standing next to one. At one point I told a dude he looked like the dude from GTA on PS1, because we were all top-down view on those motherfuckers.

Anyway, the argument started when my mate’s girlfriend (who I think he either fucked until she passed out or fucked while she was passed out) was asleep in his room. These three bitches went in there too, wittering and crying and whatnot because one of them found out their fake-tanned boyfriend cheated on her. Rumour has it he got a blowjob in the bathroom. Although I think we made that rumour up just to make things spicy.

One of these girls, in fact, the sister of the cheated girl kept talking to me all night and I couldn’t for the fuck of me figure out why or what she wanted. They were all those mass produced footballer's wives looking women with stick-on eyelashes longer than your pubes, dresses that fit like socks and who possess single figure vocabularies. I actually couldn't figure out if she was overdressed or underdressed for the occasion either. But she just kept starting up drinking games with me and smiling at me from across the room and shit. I was just there thinking “naaaaaaaaaawwwww”. She could have been trying to make the dude she came with jealous though; I did catch them in a room looking like they were having a serious talk, or maybe it was because we’d already interacted and it was like a “hey, it’s you again” smile. Who knows?

All the girls she came with were pretty nice to me though, and I presume everyone. I'm sure our similarities would probably depart at being polite to one another (unless they wanna fuck like wut), but as stuck up as they looked, they weren’t with me. I didn't really notice either way with anyone else. Even when stuck up bitches are trying to be nice to people they come off like Wilhelmina from Ugly Betty, but they didn’t. Oh snap, did I make an Ugly Betty comparison? I think I fucking did. Perhaps they just live in simple naive bliss. That’s fine I guess, but I imagine that level of inferred ignorance creates a lot of inanity, which is detrimental to the idea that humans are a species of worth.

Anyway, my friend was pissed off at their insolent lack of inconsideration when his girlfriend isn’t feeling well and just wants to sleep in peace. This resulted in a back and forth between him and the girl who had been cheated on, as she kept claiming she didn’t know anyone was in there. That’s a pretty retarded argument. Although my, dare I say it, humorous conclusion was that they were all so self-absorbed that’s actually a possibility. ZZZZZING. We laughed, then we got back to business.

Then! Many dudes appeared with their gay little bare tanned chests on show with their low cut neck line. I think I'm watching too much Ugly Betty. I think these guys were only a year younger than me and son, I have fucking hair on my chest. I did when I was their age so what the fuck? Is this a new stage of evolution? People growing into biological adults slower because everyone finds children more fuckable? Or maybe they shave or wax it. How very gay. Anyway, they didn’t like how my friend was shouting at the girl they all want to fuck, so that latent superhero gene that all Neanderthal men seem to possess kicked in, and they tried imposing their masculinity. One guy was already doing this and was actually wearing a tank top. Yes, a fucking tank top. I went round telling everyone he cut the sleeves off a normal shirt to look harder. Thanks for the inspiration, Sunny. People kept telling me it was already like that but I was all “...who does that?” and just kept insisting he cut them off. I know it was already like that. Slanderous rumours are fun though. I was always the kid that fucked with the word in Chinese Whispers.

At some point during that kerfuffle the cow and her farmyard friends I was talking about earlier requested the door be held open so they could get a good gorping view of the shit going on in the hall, courtesy of my friend's girlfriend. I said to her (my mate's girlfriend) "what the fuck they want you to hold the door? Fuck those bitches, just let go." She agreed and let go. Mild uproar was heard from where the barnyard animals were sat and I told them to watch Coronation Street for their hollow social indulgences. I don't remember their response. Probably a creative "fuck you".

But yeah, the drama was basically my friend pissed off at a girl's inconsiderate wining while that girl was pissed off her boyfriend cheated on her. Then some girly men tried starting a fight that just, didn't start. For want of a better ending to all of this, it ended with all these homoerotic bastards getting the door closed on them, so they could duke it out in the hallway and eventually fuck off.

Sorry I couldn’t end with something witty or conclusive. This was pretty much just a rant that progressed with linearity rather than a well crafted essay.

ZINGAAAA

2010-12-23T03:33:00.008Z

Do you ever have stupid motherfuckers calling you out on shit on Facebook, or anywhere, for that matter? If it's warranted and you're being a cunt or arrogant then fair enough but it's mostly dumb shit like passing comments, where the only purpose is to belittle you to... erm, what's the opposite of belittle? Enrich? Hahaha, fucking enrich. I'll go with the colloquial option and say plug, to plug themselves. Almost every time this happens those stupid bastards tend to be wrong anyway. Here's an example. Dude got ZINGED.

For anybody unfamiliar with the video he posted, it's this:

...and for anybody who can't be arsed watching, my comment relates to the fact that the narrator in the animation mentions California breaking off from America "to go hang with Hawaii. Alaska can come too." But, for anybody who can't be arsed watching the video, fuck you. This video is the shit. It's like an internet must. You've never used the internet if you've never seen this video.

Anyway, below is the sweet burn.

Stupid cockfucker presumed my argument before I made it. He's the type that I could write a step by step manifesto of my argument out in layman's terms for, and he'd only read so far as the title or dismiss it all and decide to attack what he'd love me to be talking about. I'm not made of straw, you dumb shits.

EDIT: He responded with this:

"Sweet. Well if Hinduism does prevail to be the truth, then what ever capacity I am in 15 million years, I'll look forward to seeing California cruising around the sea. Hardly slander btw. X"

Pause.

"Capacity"? "What ever capacity I am"? Is this guy a double-decker bus? Is he a fucking aeroplane? Is Hinduism known for deconstructing the human form and making it some kind or organic measuring cylinder upon reincarnation? Fucking capacity. Christ, that doesn't make sense any way you look at it. He wouldn't even be the cylinder, he'd be the sum of the material inside, but there is no mention of what the material is (and it's even implied it's not important), only the variable of how much there is of it along with the implication that this unknown figure of an unknown material is the deciding factor over whether he gets to see California floating through the Pacific in 15 million years. WHAT THE HOLY FUCK IS HE TALKING ABOUT? Also, stop name-dropping Hinduism like I'm meant to be impressed you know nothing about it beyond its name.

Play.

What the fuck is that? He should have just bowed out and fucked off with his head hung in shame. What a dick. He's trying to play-down his loss by discrediting my win, as if it was all inconsequential and above him to begin with. Well fuck you, it's your own fault you fucked up. Now your ego has to put you back together again. Don't call me out on inconsequential shit you fucking moron. And that last bit, about it not being slander. Fuck him. He doesn't get to say that. Smarmy skinny jeans wearing fuckface. I was going to write a diatribe in response about how he's a moronic cunt that attacks presumed arguments before any actual argument has been put forward, then fucks up and ignores it for the sake of pride, so what he deduces what is and isn't slander is likely invalid. For anyone interested, the comment I originally posted but deleted was "So you've got the internet vs. every publication and documentary I've ever seen." Again, the strawman basher in him focuses on what he'd love me to be saying. The truth of it is, I'm not a fucking retard who believes everything he sees. The fact that both documentary and publication have corroborated plate tectonics leading to California's eventual separation from North America over millions of years increases the validity of the claim.

Anyway, I didn't do the raging man's diatribe. I just posted this, and this only:

DOUBLE ZINGAAAAAAA.

However, it did not end there.

Note: I actually deleted this blog earlier today, after I posted it a few days ago, because I thought it all just came down to a misunderstanding on both parts but that the fact still remained that this prick unnecessarily called me out over nothing and it should have never got this far. However, I am reposting it because it now seems like the cunt was just backpedalling and trying to cover his gaping slip up- me using his own article to prove him wrong. How very like a politician.

The conversation resumed again when he linked to a BBC news report about an earthquake in Cumbria with the oh so witty "Oh shit, get the anchors ready!" accompanying it. I can't be arsed screen-shotting again because it's a bitch to scribble out the names, so I'll just quote and paraphrase. Yeah, that was tremendously funny, guy. Sick of this bullshit, I asked him why he called me out in the first place. I even threw in a "lol" as if to say "no hard feelings!" because even though I'm right I fucking hate these instances. They frustrate and infuriate the hell out of me. I don't want to feel that any more. By the way, shut the fuck up if your response to that is "why do you care?" or "just ignore it". I can't! This is how I'm wired. This is my organic, natural, albeit inconvenient response to these kinds of events, so shut your fucking mouth.

He responded with "Oh no I still believe you to be wrong lol. But as Facebook is void of emotion it probably came across as cunt-ish" to which I replied "Yep. Why am I wrong?" and he responded with "Why aren't you?" to which I replied "You'll make a great politician. Answer me." (He studies Politics at university, and my brother's whole surrogate rationale for his behaviour is "he likes to argue"- the same explanation he gives for his academic choice in Politics. He's my brother's mate.) To this he said:

"I have already given the basis of my opinion, there are two opposing views in this theory of California breaking off. One side giving evidence why it won't, in the links provided previously, and the opposing suggesting why it may. I have chosen the former. Wrong? If a scientist can give unquestionable and unequivocal evidence that the latter is a definite than fair enough; until then I'll keep my opinion."

Now, at the time I didn't read this carefully, and all it instilled in me was a sense of relief because it looked like this whole thing might just be resolved and I wouldn't have to be obsessed with it any more. I read it as if I had misinterpreted his motive behind posting the articles (here, here & here), and instead of posting them to support his own argument he was in fact posting them to display the contrast in argument- hence the reason I got to quote his own article and use it against him. From this it basically descended into me explaining what was going on:

"So one of your articles you posted was to show that it may happen? I thought you posted those fuckers to support your argument, hence my other post quoting one that I thought you thought was to support you, but didn't. I understand that the idea I'm posing isn't a certainty but I wasn't aware you were posing a possible alternative explanation; I thought you were telling me flat out I was wrong, as if what I'm saying could NEVER be true. Now I know you just support the other theory, fair enough."

and later on:

"I think we're both neutral where the California thing is concerned, but the problem here was neither of us knowing the other knew that. We weren't arguing the cases each of us thought we were, just defending them from what we presumed the other person was attacking. My initial comment was just made in passing. I thought it would go against social etiquette and be generally irrelevant for me to entertain all the possible outcomes and explanations pertaining to plate tectonics."

Between this he displayed animal-like instinct by marking his intellectual territory in the form of passive-aggressive attempts to subvert my intelligence teamed with overstating his own. Most humans seem to prove themselves simple creatures the more time you give them. I didn't rise to any of them, but responded with honesty disproving them so that anybody else viewing might understand my position.

However, and I'm not totally bothered this is the case because at least this fucking thing has ended, I just read it now and his new stance is incongruent with his previous one. It seems now he's kind of rolled down-stream in the river that is my argument, only he was walking in that direction anyway and got to his destination with less effort and time consumed. I hope you enjoyed that abstract metaphor as much as I did. What I mean to say is that my conclusion and misinterpretation on all of this managed to end the argument amicably while not outing him as the moron he is, and even partially worked towards disproving his idiocy. But, as I know now, that's not true.

Note where he says "One side giving evidence why it won't, in the links provided previously, and the opposing suggesting why it may." He only says that he posted links for why California won't break off America, but when I say that he provided links for both arguments he doesn't address it, just rolls with it. When you use commas as brackets like that the information contained between those commas is an interruption in the sentence for clarification of the point that came immediately before it, so he's saying that the links he provided illustrate cases for California not breaking off. In the same comment he says "I have already given the basis of my opinion... I choose the former"; the former being the idea that California won't break away. Bare that in mind, because one of his gay in-between comments said "Is that possible, to support an idea but retain enough partiality to suggest that the opposing may indeed be 'right'? That would surely equal neutrality, rendering support nonexistent". This was practically right after I said "now I know you support the other theory, fair enough." But his comment there is in direct contrast to his statement about "choosing the former".

You must also note that he says I'm wrong a lot, which would go against his eventual stance on this argument. He could be saying that I'm wrong in what he presumes is my certainty in California breaking off but it's likely that if he did in fact intend to be neutral on the topic (like he claims towards the end), he wouldn't have said I was wrong, he would have said "not necessarily".

Not to mention (although I will now mention) the insanity of him accusing me of adopting one explanation for an idea there is considerable debate over when he admits twice he subscribes to the alternative explanation for the one I was posing. Fascist bigot! This turned into a Religious debate somehow.

Anyway, I should be a lawyer. I'd end every case with a video of the "you fucked up" guy.

Signs is such a dumb film.

2010-12-16T19:42:00.009Z

"Hi! I was M. Night Shamahamatime and I stole all my film ideas from episodes of Are You Afraid of the Dark. I was also white and my name was Steve. GOTCHA SUCKAS."

That's what his epitaph will say.

Apart from that scene where the alien just pleasantly jive-walks by at that kid's birthday party and everybody is terrified for some reason, what kind of alien race advanced enough to reach Earth and fuck with Mel Gibson's cornfield comes to a planet with only 4% exposed land (2% habitable) and where 96% is water WHEN WATER IS FATAL TO THEM?!?!!!!?!!!?!!?!???!? I suppose they earn some dignity back by the fact that a planet so inundated with water is called Earth. Easy mistake, I guess. Although it's not like we have a cosmic sign-post saying it anywhere. It tends to be earthlings that know it as Earth. I have no idea about our universal reputation as a planet.

That aside, maybe it's more relevant to ask how they even got to jive-walk by or fuck with Mel Gibson's cornfields, because water in whatever form is always in our atmosphere. I don't know what compound forms of Oxygen and Hydrogen hurt these bastards. But I do know that regardless, they wouldn't have made it until morning. Dew, if nothing else, would have their feet fizzling off. They're also fucking with his cornfields, and what does corn need to grow besides sunlight? Water. That's a pretty big cornfield too, I bet Mel had some irrigation shit installed set at timely intervals. I'm assuming, not baselessly, that the earth in those fields would have puddles and generally be composed of mud rather than dry dirt, so there's another opportunity for them to have their lower limbs dissolved. Humans themselves are like 65% water, as I presume are animals, so when they killed that dog, what the fuck, were they wearing Hazmat suits? There was blood all over the place. If they were then why weren't they later on? It's full of holes, like those aliens' faces when it rains. Heh.

Also, I have it under pretty good authority that water is like the number one ingredient you need to create life, regardless of where you come from in the universe, so how would it be evolutionarily advantageous for a race to evolve not just to not need water (which would make sense), but for water to kill them?

Stupid film.

It's very hard to give bad musicans' new albums a fair listen.

2010-12-16T18:03:00.007Z

Not because I've already made my mind up before I listen to it, but because it's like waiting for an injection or something at a doctor's. It feels like I'm flinching the whole time waiting for something terrible. It's actually quite stressful.

I'm talking about Kanye West's new album. I didn't even check the 808s and Whatever album. I downloaded it but I think that only happened because I came across it at What.cd and was one of the first to download, and therefore first to seed it. That fucker got me like +5GB, so I'm grateful it exists for that one reason only. I think I stopped listening to him after Late Registration. The one after that I only listened to once, I think, which was enough to realise it sucked. Then when the 808s one was floating around he personally was being a cunt, and his music was worse, so I never bothered.

However, a friend recommended the new Kanye album, saying it was much better than the 808s one, so judging by the fact that we both dislike the same Kanye shit and I remembered we both liked the first two, I checked this one out. I actually didn't even know he had one out. I'd be lying to say I wasn't a little proud of that. I went into it intent on listening it from start to finish, and I did. I also wanted to listen to it prepared for the outcome that I may like it, rather than expecting to hate it, and I did that too. It was difficult though. Many of his tracks start with autotone or corny synths. One even track started with "put your hands in the air!" Now you must understand surely how hard it is to persevere with the rest of the song (and some of these songs are long as shit for rap music), when the first nanosecond gives you absolutely every reason to skip it.

But overall, and I'm saying this about its capacity to appeal to my tastes, it was mediocre. There are three (maybe two) tracks that successfully manage to outweigh the corny and terrible with the good shit. That's the first three, although I'm considering discounting the first because it has some awful sounding Cyndie Lauper or Bonnie Tyler kind of sample as its chorus- and it drops into the song randomly as fuck, like a jump cut if you think of it in cinematic terms. The verses are decent though. He has a flow that's nice to listen to in most cases, and some of his lines are entertaining or clever, like "I'm the obamanation of this Obama nation". GEDDIT?!! HEHEHE. Although "I don't need yo' pussy bitch, I'm on my own dick" might be a good contender for Cracked.com's "Most Unintentionally Homosexual Rap Lines Ever" series.

That's the thing though! I mostly like Kanye's rap verses, even if his mush mouth does mean I can't tell what the fuck he's saying sometimes. That shit is very annoying. I know he had his jaw blown off or some shit, but for all I or anybody else know he could just be faking his wordplay bits and ending his bars with "ball" a shit load of times. I can't remember the actual word the example I'm thinking of is, and fuck listening to the whole thing again to find out.

As I say though, I mostly like Kanye's verses but he has a nasty habit of making his shitty overproduced generic black female singer or Nate Dogg derivative choruses as long as the verses, leaving me with longer to endure them. Music listening is not an interactive past time. I'm not playing Command and Conquer; I shouldn't have to keep clicking around and skipping to the good parts of your songs. As well as that, I hate most of the guy's beats, which makes it very difficult to like his music. From his wacky fucking super pitch-bent, cartoon-character-sounding samples to his recent ones full of not-quite authentic instruments, I hate them. Most of them sound like the stock beat examples you get in Fruity Loops or on electronic keyboards, horrible synthy horn instruments included. That doesn't go for all of them, but it brings me back to the "flinch" comment I made before. It's like that, I'm on edge all the damn time waiting for his musical sensibilities to fuck up a song.

Give me a RZA produced Kanye album, with no musical Kanye (or god forbid, Swizz Beats) interference. If I ever have to listen to another Swizz Beats beat, ahwl blaa'ma'awn fayshh'owfff, laa'k nik'ayge. That's a phonetic representation of what it's like to listen to a Kanye album, and in the worst case, lyrically representative too. At one point he does some pun on Kings of Leon and their Sex on Fire track, but it serves no other purpose than that. Guess what he says. "My sex is on fire, I'm the king of Leon". Genius, Kayne, genius. Then there's the King Crimson sample in another track. What is that for? So he can display his diverse influence? So people who like King Crimson get a boner? It's not even integrated into the song, it just kind of interrupts at the end of a bar and then the beat carries on again right after. It's like it's sole purpose for being there is to be noticed for what it is, which directly comments on Kanye for having chosen to included it. This is close to a problem I had with some of his other stuff- shameless block sampling. Although that creates a different problem. It'd be like he was dick-slapping DJ Shadow and real producers, and creating a bad reputation for their art.

Anyway, moving on. With the tracks that I consider mediocre, and not just plainly terrible, the interruptions of shitness are too frequent to skip without irritation, so I won't be listening to them again. It's like eating something off the bone. It tastes good when you don't have to pick out bits of bone, veins or gristle. I don't feel like eating around the Rihannas, the 80s synth horns or the autotone- an industry standard in no small part due this man's incapability to sing.

Oh, and a Gil Scott-Heron sample over a beat that sounds like the soundtrack to a corny tourist advertisement for Africa? Kanye's black and that's still pretty racist.

Thought #62 - Swearing

2010-12-12T18:38:00.002Z

Can you think of any curse words that don't pertain to genitalia or homosexuality?

Erm, also it can't be the the word "shit", although it is comically quite close to both.

Thought #61 - Bums

2010-12-10T20:52:00.003Z

Not those lovely squishy things towards the top of the back of women's legs, rather those stankin' street urchins pestering me for money and putting me in an uncomfortable position where I have to ignore them or deny them my change. Then they thank me for not giving them anything, not sarcastically. What is that, trying to guilt trip me? Fuck you. I wouldn't mind giving people inconsequential change if I was certain I wasn't being gyped by their fucking spiel, or made to feel like an asshole if I don't.

You know what? Those motherfuckers should come with personal records or a CV or something. I want a full backstory and list of transferable skills and qualifications that makes them eligible for my change. It's the only fair way to decide whether or not they are eligible for my change. As it stands, I give nobody anything. It's similar to the "we do not negotiate with terrorists" policy America has.

Fuck Google Chrome

2010-12-10T19:48:00.003Z

It is perhaps my greatest fantasy that I might one day be in such an influential position that I could make a statement like "Fuck Google Chrome" and it would instantly end their reign of shitty internet browsing. Wouldn't that be nice? Imagine you could just literally will something shitty and defective into abolition.

I'm sick of this crappy browser, but I'm trapped in it! Apart from Google Mail and Google in general tracking everything you ever type in order to provide "relevant" advertisements down the side of your page (you know those advertisements that nobody ever clicks?), they must do this in a massive amount of other ways if you use their browser too.

Tangent!

I always wonder how the internet fortune making works. It seems like TV, where the amount of traffic or viewers decide how worthwhile it is to advertise with the broadcaster/website, then the hosts receive money for it in a variety of ways. But, who the fuck clicks those links? How do they ever make a return on paying out on that shit in terms of their product being sold? I don't know anybody who clicks those links, let alone buy anything from them. It's like a circle-jerk where everybody is making money off each other and passing on the actual fruit of all this marketing down the line. It's completely reliant on the site being linked to hosting adverts on their site to get paid by another site for doing so, who also then do the same thing with another site. And that keeps going forever. It's a circle of prosperity (much like a circle-jerk, in fact) where everyone makes money, but I imagine they're constantly bemused at that fact.

Tangent over.

My main beef is that is fucking crashes all the time. It actually says "Oops! The browser has crashed!" too, with the exclamation marks and impersonal cool Google tone. Then the browser closes. The only saving grace of these crashes is that once you re-open Chrome it asks you if you want to open all the tabs you previously had open, but not if you're in incognito mode. You know how infuriating it is to have 100 tabs of carefully selected pornographic e-galleries only for Chrome to crash and flush all that hard work away? Very. The same applies to the normal browser when you're downloading stuff, because it instantly cancels them and makes you start the fuck over.

The other day, shortly after raging out when my porn closed, I decided I would switch to Opera instead, because IE sucks dick and Firefox uses major CPU. However, the main reason I tend to stick around longer than my patience would normally allow, is the pain in the arse process of familiarising myself with something new, and importing my bookmarks. I mentioned earlier that I am trapped in Google Chrome. I am. To export my bookmarks from Google Chrome into Opera I need to go to "Bookmarks Manager" in Chrome, and simply click "export as..." but you know what? That page doesn't fucking work. It just gives me an error every single God damned time. Now I can't migrate without losing all my awesome bookmarks.

Google, you cocksucking bastard.

There's no obvious point to this blog, but I managed to write two decent sized paragraphs, so figured I'd post it.

2010-12-10T13:29:00.008Z

Remember that blog about the eye-test guy who would practically rub my face with his while he was administering the test? Well I had to go for a check-up again yesterday, but this time it was a pretty lady optician. I can't be sure, but she was acting like she was flirting with me. In the short time we were together she complimented me about four times and went out of her way to engage me in conversation, with shit that didn't concern the eye-test. She also did this cute stroking my arm thing whenever she was finished with a part of the test, to signify I could relax and sit back. I'm not sure how old she was. At most, she was a young looking mid-thirties, but I think she was probably somewhere between 24 and 28.

Something they ask every time is how long I leave my contacts in, but they word it like "what time do you put them in?" which basically translates to "what time do you get up?", and "what time do you take them out?" which basically translates to "what time do you go to bed?" Recently, I've been getting up at like 3pm, and going to bed at about 6am, or not at all. During that time period I do replace my contact lenses, though significantly later than what they recommend. But I did not say this, of course! I said I get up at 11am and go to bed at 2am, which still shows them I wear my contact lenses too long but doesn't carry the unfortunate assumptions about me that stating I don't get up until 3pm might.

Social desirability, fucking up the reliability of tests since consciousness began!

The Trouble with XXL's Conception of Backpack Rap

2010-12-09T20:52:00.008Z

Somebody linked me to this article from the Hip Hop magazine XXL:

The Trouble with Backpack Rap

It's actually old as hell and I think I've read it before, but I'd like to take this opportunity to copy and paste my response to it. Here goes:

I'd like to just say "there's a (I will not spell his name like a fucking 4 year old) Soldier Boy banner down the side of the page, anything this guy says is moot" and leave it at that; however, I sense an unavoidable essay coming on.

Brace yourself.

He makes some fair points but he is addressing a minority. There are some arrogant elitist pricks that need to shut the fuck up harming the reputation of the culture they supposedly adore. Although I suspect that those guilty of this behaviour don't adore the culture at all, but enjoy the aesthetic associated with doing, and that self-awarded feeling of superiority for knowing about something little others do. If you think of it that way, in essence he's not even talking about "backpacker rap" fans; he's talking about a few dickheads choosing to associate themselves with it because they think it'll make them look cool, and because they're god damned hipster abominations.

My first beef is with this bit: "You can find these hotheads in the record store... spitting obscure hip-hop trivia with an almost religious fervor." Oh you mean like everybody who is interested in any kind of music does? Or fucking anything, ever? It's irrelevant, it just gets the expected reader and assumed opinion of that reader on-side - because backpackers don't read XXL now do they? There's an example every couple of lines or so, so I'll just leave that example up as representative.

Then there's the bit where he's talking about a letter he received about Xzibit and radio-rap in general as representing “vacuous self-aggrandizement, misogyny, and status-peddling.” My problem with this is that he presents it as if it's irrefutable and self-evident that it's not that way. It is, though. I'm sure you get the odd "deep" T.I. track where he talks about his Mum or some such shit, but to say that a lot of popular rap is not riddled with each of the observations in that comment is fucking insane. There's this too: "a baffling resentment for all that is gangsta and/or flashy and fly." How is that baffling? Nobody likes a show-off. It's pretty much that simple.

Admittedly, regardless of what scene you represent sending in letters bitching about their choice in music is sad as hell. It's like systematically going through music videos on YouTube and giving thumb-downs, except it's an even bigger waste of time because XXL are part of the same problem that they have with mainstream rap in general. They're a big magazine that rely on mainstream rap endorsements and activity in order to sell. It's in their best interest to preserve the status quo. Sending in one snide little letter to them would be like trying to convince God of atheism, so what the hell is the point? Just go do something more productive.

The way it works for me is, I have musical objections (which are irrelevant because they're all based on personal taste) and moral ones. My moral preoccupations with the majority of mainstream rap have nothing to do with rap or music. The only relevance their music holds to my moral objection is the fact that it's a medium through which they project themselves as people. I hate them as people, not for something trivial like "I don't like their music." I think it's like that for a lot of the people he thinks he's talking about. They may not like their music either, but as long as they don't irrelevantly mix that up with the moral objection, it's beside the point.

Anonymous

2010-12-09T20:44:00.010Z

The V for Vendetta mask is the 21st century's Che Guevara shirt, and has come to mean just as little if you, for rhetorical purposes, presume it ever didn't.

While we're on it, will you corny student protesters please put your fucking Anonymous and Chan site memes away? You're embarrassing. Anonymous, by and large, are children who spend most of their time pretending to be a part of what they perceive as a revolutionary organisation, but who in actuality do nothing in that area but prank phone call radio stations and "protest" against Scientology not for any kind of ethical code, but because they're a mutually agreed target they've collaborated to at most, mildly irritate. You're cool if you do that, you see. That's how it works. This is fashion. People always seem to feel really happy about themselves whenever they allude to Anonymous or the Chan sites. They end their claims on an expectant note, as if waiting for me to high five them or prove my affiliation. It's like a verbal secret handshake. Fuck you, you are not the Illuminati. You are the proverbial "cancer".

You know what the worst bit of that V for Vendetta movie was too, the corniest fucking Dead Poets Society type "oh captain, my captain" shit? THE GOD DAMN FUCKING ENDING, and it is no coincidence that these bastards decided to take that shit and turn into into their manifesto. When I say manifesto I'm using the term as loosely as possible; it was probably more of a scribble on a napkin in illegible handwriting, poor spelling and poor grammar that somebody has now probably lost and forgotten what the fuck it ever said a long time ago... if that.

Anyway, the rest of their time they spend beating off to cartoons of anthropomorphised animals fucking one another, berating women and being racist. The anonymous aspect is a joke too. It's used more for whiny little kids to insult people without fear of repercussion than a faceless political force. Anonymous as an idea could have developed into something significant, but that didn't happen. It was squandered for inane cultural vandalism.

That's the problem - anybody can assume their guise and, like with any organisation, in doing so assume responsibility for the actions of everybody else who has acted under it. This is why protesters should keep that bullshit as far from their cause as possible or break away from Anonymous to something that better defines their intent, because as far as media and the uninitiated are concerned they are the same Anonymous that leave inhumane messages on memorial web pages (griefers), or those that goad kids into suicide, or those sad bastards wanking to cartoons. Maybe the protesters aren't Anonymous at all. Maybe Anonymous IS the lazy and immoral social terrorists, and the protesters are something completely different, but that's not the point.

I agree with anarchism, but these people and people in general have proven they don't deserve it. They can't be trusted to live autonomously with morality, honesty and respect for people. If anything, Anonymous prove that anarchism would not work, because when given the opportunity to act with no repercussions, what do they do?

They microwave kittens and endorse paedophilia.

Thought #60 - Yahoo Answers

2010-12-04T21:06:00.004Z

So is this shit a service for people who don't know how to use a search engine or something?

Personally I've never had call to use it because well, GOOGLE FUCKING EXISTS. Almost every question people ask on that site can be found on any search engine in about a hundredth of the time it takes to type it out, post it and wait for some moron to do your work for you and eventually respond.

It's like going to Asda to ask them to ask Tesco to bring your groceries to Asda where you'll pick them up. Just shop at Asda.

It wouldn't be a leap to assume that most of these people type "Yahoo Answers" in Google and click the link instead of typing out the full URL in the browser either.

Thought #59 - "Not Necessarily"

2010-12-04T20:48:00.004Z

In a world of "not necessarily"s, your own "not necessarily"s require a "not necessarily" thereby imploding your whole fucking argument.

Stop saying it to everything.

Thought #58 - High Fives

2010-12-04T20:40:00.007Z

Don't say something corny then expect a high five from me. I will reject your high five and you'll be left hanging there like a chump while I'm there having to suffer through the awkwardness you created, that I must look like a dick during for not having reciprocated.

I was out once and this girl with dyed red hair and a nose piercing was going around giving people high fives. She got to me and I shook my head and kept my hands in my pockets. She tried really hard to get me to do it. They still stayed in my pocket. She conferred with my friends- who had given her high fives, and asked why they hung out with me when I'm blatantly so miserable, because obviously all me and my friends do in our spare time is high five one another and if I don't do that, then what MUST I bring to the table?

You know what she is? She's the mum at children's birthday parties that doesn't respect your right to forego bullshit like musical chairs. She makes you do it. Fuck her. She probably felt insecure about her voluntary high-five occupation after that. GOOD. I HOPE I RUINED YOUR DAY, CUNT.

Just please, keep that shit your pocket.

Thought #57 - The War

2010-11-27T20:09:00.004Z

All there is to show for it is millions of Facebook profile pictures of soldiers stood in front of helicopters with folded arms.

FML

2010-11-27T20:02:00.003Z

My brother was just jumping on my bed while talking to me and after I realised I was like "stop jumping on my bed you dick, that's how you broke it last time." Now at this point my voice cracked, like a fucking 13 year old going through puberty. His retort: "hahaha, kinda like when your voice broke?"

Oh man, I got fucking owned. Hard. I just slumped in my chair and turned around like "holy fuck, that was the worst I've ever been owned, in the most intelligent way. Get out."

What did I say about his insults, eh? No coming back.

A Brotherhood of Non-Fool Sufferers

2010-11-15T04:00:00.004Z

I was talking to my brother before about my night on Friday, bouncer event included. I then told him how after this event some bitch came up to me and my friends saying... something. I can't remember what. She's a dick, it's important you know that. We saw her earlier on practically fucking her "boyfriend" (I don't know if he was, or some dude she just met), which came off as desperate in lots of ways: for attention, for sex, for affection. She isn't fat, but as my mate pointed out she looks like one of those people who, no matter how skinny they go, always look like they're fat. Either that or somebody who was once obese but lost the weight and now has all these surplus skin folds and a disproportionate body, or they just couldn't shake the fat on one specific area. It works inversely too, I've seen humongous wilder-beasts of women and if you cut them off at the neck then disposed of the torso you'd never know they were attached to a small whale before.

Later on, she came up to us for some reason, talking about something I don't remember. I told her I recognised her from college and was trying to think what class she was in of mine. I don't think she actually was, but I had this inclination to think she was, and still kind of do though I'm almost certain she wasn't. I don't know how. One of my mate's said something about maybe seeing her in the ICT rooms, and I was like "oh, maybe the ICT suite", as I used to sit on the stage in there during free periods and basically be very fucking bored. In my madness, I once drew a vagina entirely out of the word "cunt". I still have it somewhere.

Anyway, she scoffed at that idea as if she was too fucking cool to be seen dead in the ICT suite, then she cited how she just smoked weed through college. You're so cool, egg-shape faced girl with white trash boutique skank-blond highlights; let me be like you. By this point I get it, she can stop trying so hard to project her cover-up identity in lieu of a really fucking insecure genuine one. She doesn't though. I never actually got to the bottom of from what class (if any) I knew her either, I just remember I didn't like her at college for the precise conclusions I drew from the behaviour she had exhibited that night already, and continued to.

At this point in the story, I get cigarette smoke in my eyes and I don't know if that shit stings when you don't wear contact lenses, but I do and it stung, so I was groaning a little bit and wiping my eyes. She was like "what's up with him?" and I said "got smoke in my eyes" and she proceeded to call me a "noob smoker", quite a few times. I retaliated sharply like "contact lenses!" and I don't know if that was even a factor, but it riled her a little bit. She got a little more aggressive, presumably for comic effect in an attempt to "connect" with her new found peers at the expense of somebody else: me. Say what you want about lynching, but that shit brought families together. She knows that. She started calling me "dick face". You can imagine the hilarity. That got a little more hostile and once I was done rubbing my eyes and could see again I calmly stated "yeah, well... you look like Miss Piggy, so fuck you."

This she did not take well! She went on about it for ages, none of the monologue I actually remember. It was a monologue too, the dialogue basically ended with that statement. She brought he friend over and told her I just called her Miss Piggy. I can't remember what I said to that, but it was true, so whatever. I think I just shrugged. Then she brought her twiglet of a fucking boyfriend round. He looked like a more gaunt Adrian Brody, and less handsome. She told him what I said and he didn't know what he was supposed to do. I think he felt like he was supposed to preserve her honour but in our post-modern skinny-jean wearing pussy of a society that shit just doesn't come to pass. Plus, I think he forwent preserving her honour when they practically fucked in the middle of a room. Yeah, she has honour like my reproductive system has ovaries.

This guy couldn't make his mind up anyway, and was pretty timid about it all so I left him to it and went for another piss. My final piss before we left, in fact! While I was in there one of my mates came in and said something I don't remember, but I do remember saying that if that bitch hit me I'd hit her back, that I'm indiscriminate, haha. In honesty, if it came to it I probably wouldn't have. I was fucking around. However, this faggot at the urinal didn't think so. He told me to get out of there before he smacked me. I was drunk, but this guy didn't even have his eyes open. I remember insulting his weak ass beard and the fact he wanted to dance with me to Lady Gaga earlier on (he did, I was at the bar buying a beer). Then we left. Story over!

The moral is that overkill wins and don't try to belittle me, ever.

My brother found this story pretty amusing, and he retorted with one of his own. His, though, I think more brutal. He's always been intolerant of stupidity and his insults have been said to have no coming back from. Even his one liners, take "gimp" for instance, sting and cut right through the bullshit to the basic core reasoning behind behaviour. You can't help but concede to the overwhelming truth. It hits you, I am a gimp.

He told me he was on the bus on the way back from university the other day and these two kids were fucking with him. When I say kids, I mean KIDS. They were 11 and 10. My brother is 18. It started with one of them sat opposite him, facing him. The kid and his sister asked what he was doing on his phone. My brother replied "changing tracks" and then one of them went "is that an iPhone?" and proceeded to ask if they could check Facebook. My brother chuckled and went "no". Then one kid sat next to him and started stroking his fucking knee, like "come on...". By this point my brother was like "what the fuck, go away." They eventually did and went on to terrorise the rest of the bus in one way or another. The boy kept fucking with this one dude apparently, and my brother mentioned the guy looking like somebody you just do not fuck with. He could see his jowls contracting each time the kid went near him.

This isn't my story, so I'm a little sloppy on the details but this carried on for a bit and then this kid came back and started trying to threaten my brother. Obviously, my brother is laughing and goading him back, asking him what he'll do. The kid was a scally little shit, birthed by a scally mother, who actually happened to be on the bus but downstairs. One dude got on the bus, about 18 as well and the 10 year old offered him £10 to beat up my brother, hahaha. The guy was taken aback like "what? that's not my business." I laughed at this point, because that dude's response actually sounded slightly afraid, like something you might tell a drunken hobo or a stinky old pervert just to make a quick escape, not a 10 year old kid.

My brother now had some ammo, and started laying into him about hiring a mercenary to beat him up, when the kid was so confidently asserting his "banging out" abilities earlier. The whole thing resulted in the kid punching my brother in the leg repeatedly, to no avail, and to no inflicted pain. While this was going on the stupid kid's sister was jabbing my brother with her umbrella. Now, my brother snaps, in the most hilarious of ways. He zips open his bag, grabs his water bottle and squirts it in this kid's face until it's empty, then grabs the umbrella from the girl and throws it out of the window. Done. Now both kids are crying and running downstairs to tell their mum what the mean boy did upstairs. To add insult to injury, my brother was laughing his fucking arse off when they started crying and taking the piss out of how much of a pussy the kid is.

The epilogue occurred downstairs, and he overheard the kids' mum telling them they deserved it. That's about it. The morals? Fuck morons, and feel free to parent tyrant kids in public.

We're releasing a co-written parental guide book next year called "It's Never Too Late To Have an Abortion."

A Quotable

2010-11-15T03:45:00.007Z

I was out on Friday and taking a piss in this shithole bar in a neighbouring town. I always use the stalls because basically, fuck waving my dick around in a room full of men. Some Aphex Twin lookalike already pinched my arse earlier on and I couldn't tell if he was joking when he said he was a bit gay.

So anyway, there I was stood in other people's piss swilling around the floor over an overflowing toilet, with my pants tucked in my socks because fuck getting somebody else's piss on my pants. They're reserved for my piss only. The sole of the shoe isn't so important, it's just rubber so the piss can't soak into anything. I unbuckle my belt (never been a fan of flies) and the top button and, you get the idea. I begin pissing then pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. The next thing I know, some dirty bouncer is creaking open the stall door and asking me "what's that in your hand?" and I'm like "my phone" and then he goes "what's in your other hand" and I'm all "my dick" (that bit's the quotable). He even peeks over my shoulder to check, the motherfucker. I went in the stall to evade this kind of exhibitionism and it happened anyway! Probably BECAUSE I used a god damn stall, because you don't see people sniffing lines off a fucking urinal do you? That irony aside, there's double irony because the guy I did see sniffing coke was just stood in the general bathroom area, not at the urinal, not in the stall. He was just dipping his key in his gay little bag of powder and sniffing it off there like it was a Sherbert motherfucking Dip Dab. These:

Anyway, the bouncer then asks me to step outside, so I kindly request I finish taking a piss first. I do, but then insist I wash my hands. Right about now, if I was a bouncer, I'd be sceptical as to whether this civilised guy who tucks his pants in his socks to not get covered in piss, politely asks to finish his piss, and makes sure he washes his hands afterwards is a fiend. That didn't deter him though because once I got outside the bathroom he asked me to put my hands on the wall like that scene from The Fifth Element, and empty my pockets. I did all that bullshit and waved to my buddies at the same time. Eventually he was satisfied I didn't have anything (which I might add, I never did) and told me to get my stuff. As I was getting my stuff I dropped my debit card and the minute I did that he stormed back over demanding I tell him what I just dropped. I started laughing like "my fucking card".

Jeez, a guy just wanted to take a piss.

Eughh

2010-11-12T13:22:00.003Z

Time to take a shower. There was a retard on the bus, and I think I got some of his retard stink on me. Either that or it was so fucking poignant it's all tangled up in my nostril hair. I'll hold a lighter to my nose and burn it away if it doesn't leave soon.

Thought #56 - Duality

2010-11-11T11:23:00.004Z

Citing this concept does not excuse hypocrisy.

Know Any Physicists?

2010-11-07T04:00:00.001Z

This shit'll have them cracking up.

A Monologue

2010-11-06T02:24:00.003Z

I copied and pasted this from a conversation I had with one of our fellow readers here. For some background information, we were talking about the Aaron McGruder comic-strip turned TV series The Boondocks and its racially controversial themes. Follow the link or just watch it if you're unfamiliar; it's great. Here's what I said:

We need an equivalent for the moronic behaviour associated with white culture. Something I've wondered though, is if Aaron was white. The reaction would be hostile I imagine but is it actually worse if it came from a white person, or just perceived to be worse? I'm talking as if Aaron was white but possessed the exact same intentions: to satirise stereotypical black culture so that those guilty of fulfilling or subscribing to it might learn how detrimental it is to their intelligence and culture's reputation. Do you think that'd just be a "mind your own fucking business" kind of situation, even if there was a valid point in it? Does the fact he is black mean he's more qualified to speak on it, even if the show remained exactly the same, with all its lessons? It seems to me like the fact he'd be white would distract everybody from them. Death of the Author comes to mind.

Saying that though, if you think of the reverse, nearly every black comedian that's ever existed has made jokes about white stereotypes and usually not to make a point either, just to poke fun. Going further with that idea, what if Aaron was satirising the stupidities of behaviour associated with white culture instead? I'm pretty sure that'd be fine too. Chalk it up to "black frustration", white people just sitting back like "oh, it's okay, we understand".

I don't bring this up because it offends me as a white person; I find the jokes funny (unless they're by terrible comedians) and not in the least bit offensive. I'm just comparing the principle. In fact, my annoyance lies with white people for not having the balls to reciprocate. If it's done to be racially derogatory, to alienate or for irrational and malicious reasons then I disagree with it, but not if it's honestly in jest and nobody is going to feel insulted/alienated.

Imagine a planet where race existed but it was as inconsequential as the sky and the grass being different colours. That's what it IS, but not how it's treated.

It's ironic though, really. The way white establishment typically address and treat non-white races (taking gentle steps over the eggshell path) is still racist, only inverted. It's racism that benefits the subject. It's like affirmative action has descended into white self-deprecation. Its original intent and, if I know correctly, legislation stated that race/creed/nationality/whatever be irrelevant to employers and other official organizations. Now it's as if people have quotas to fulfil. A factory with 50% white and 50% non-white employees isn't equality, it's contrived.

Maybe I should make a Boondocks equivalent about this.

Call it "White Guilt".

Thought #55 - Cripples, the Diseased, the Retarded

2010-11-06T02:22:00.003Z

Just because they're one or all of these things at once does not make them better people.

That is all.

Hey, who says it if your friendly neighbourhood Mr. Pseudonym doesn't?

When Mr. Pseudonym Pretends to be Accessible

2010-11-06T02:20:00.001Z

I actually started this blog a couple of days ago and to save me altering the tenses and sacrificing a bit of the humour in it, I shall pretend now is then. Think of it as a dream sequence, or a rhetorical present tense, even though a lot of it is in the past tense because despite writing it in the same day I was writing it after the events. Whatever though. Here I go...

I wish life had an undo button, because I just thought of a really smartass and witty way to begin this blog, but alas I forgot before I got to type it. Damn this. FUCKING DAMN THIS. I'm listening to that Linkin Park album I said I liked in a previous blog right now (Reanimation). I'm also drunk. Wanna know the answers to the questions you're asking right now? All shall be revealed.

Hello, my name is Mr. Pseudonym and I went to a Linkin Park concert tonight. Yep, I admit it. I saw Linkin Park, just like people who don't have any stake in their own music taste might do. I am aware of the sheer debasery of having committed this act, yet feel no remorse. This was me being accessible. It was surreal. It felt sociopathic to be immersing myself in that environment and pretending to be an active part of it. Imagine walking around an arena at an evangelist Christian convention when you're an atheist, and not telling anybody you are. It was fucking espionage in action, and a strange position to be in. Don't go and assume I'm being arrogant here despite what conclusions you might even justifiably arrive at, because on this occasion it's as simple as I don't like that music, or associated culture.

The truth of it is, my uncle works for O2, which is a UK mobile phone network (for my foreign brethren) and they have an executive box at the M.E.N Arena in the city I live. The story begins with me and my morning wood. I was asleep but abruptly awoken by the obnoxious as fuck default iPhone ring tone. Turns out to be my Dad. My eyes were still caked in fucking rheum - the real word for that crust that accumulates at the corner of your eyes and on your eyelashes while you sleep (look at that, you learnt something today). I answered and he was asking me if I like Linkin Park. I explained that I don't, but they used to be my favourite band when I was about 13 or something. He says that his mate/my uncle...

Pause.

This guy isn't really my uncle; he's either mine or my brother's god parent. Saying that though, we call the fucking window-cleaners uncles in the UK. It's really a very ridiculous and liberally used term.

Play.

...had put his name down for Linkin Park tickets at work, because his son likes them. However, his son, in an ungrateful turn of events, decided he didn't want to go. So my uncle was sending e-mails and ringing everyone he knew to see if they wanted to go. He really didn't want to be that wanker at work that exploited the opportunity when others might have wanted and deserved it more. There are apparently always people doing that, for any acts that are on. They have a system to rule out those faggots, but all the same, he didn't want to be perceived as one.

My Dad went with him to see Stevie Wonder last time and he recommended I try out the mad executive box with its free drink, free food and free gig, so that is what I did. I drank their San Miguel dry, half because it's nice and half because fuck Carlsberg. I found out that tickets for the actual show were anything up to £175. Even standing ones were £45. That shit is fucking insane. I thought Linkin Park were on their way out too, but I guess that comments more on my estrangement from all that bullshit than their actual level of "success."

So yeah, that's why I went and that's what happened. I wanted to experience that all-expenses paid shit, and I did. It was fun. Linkin Park weren't too bad anyway. Their new music is still as awful as I last recall and their old music still holds nostalgic value, so it ended up in the positive side of the spectrum on the whole.

Oh, and Reanimation is still a good album, once you override that sense of shame associated with it being made by Linkin Park.

Hahaha, Black Guys.

2010-11-05T00:02:00.001Z

I like how he pronounces his Ts.

Thought #54 - YouTube

2010-10-29T00:33:00.004+01:00

Interrupting everything I'm doing since 2005.

I hate it when people send me YouTube video links in IM conversations. I have to pretend to have watched them, or worse, actually watch them. Then I have to say something to prove I've watched them and pretend to appreciate them, or express my disdain so subtly that no further dialogue continues on the topic. It's the instantaneousness of it that annoys me. It's not like it was left on my Facebook page and I can check it later. It's live; I'm expected to react to it live as well. Ugh.

People should know I don't ever give a single god damn fuck about whatever video they want to link me to. Stop that shit.

Curing Curiosity #3

2010-10-28T18:12:00.007+01:00

Ever wondered what £139 in 20ps, 10ps and 5ps looks like? Come on, everyone's seen that. Ever wonder what £139 in 20ps, 10ps and 5ps looks like next to a cup of tea?! I bet you have but haven't seen it. Until now. You're never broke when you keep a large novelty Budweiser money bank full of change around. Saying that, you have to be pretty broke to count it out like this and actually use it as money.

I Know My Asians

2010-10-17T03:15:00.001+01:00

The question is, do you?

This Was Fun

2010-10-08T13:51:00.002+01:00

Thought #53 - Giraffes

2010-10-06T18:56:00.001+01:00

Seriously, did Dr. Moreau invent these creatures? What'd he do, pit a cheetah, a zebra and a brontosaurus in a three-way?

PlayStation Move

2010-10-05T16:28:00.005+01:00

Is surprisingly fun on Tiger Woods 11, not enough to make me buy the thing if I didn't get it free though. Playing that game feels quite realistic, although if you don't create the reference point for the ball patiently enough you find your golfer's arms twisting inside-out like that black dude on that twisty machine in Saw 3.

It's better than the Wii anyway, which from a perspective interested in innovation is good, but to Sony it probably won't earn its stripes until it outsells the Wii, regardless of innovative technology. Also, it's still innovation in the wrong direction to me.

It's also more sensitive and has more dimensions than the Wii. The camera registers all movement within its view so that means the remote can do things on a 3D plane, rather than 2D. Of course it's only the illusion of 3D represented on a 2D plane - THE TV, but it's more than the Wii does. Move registers backwards and forwards movement, covering every potential angle there is. However, on one demo game I played you had to thrust the virtual representation of your Move remote through a hole which was hard as fuck to do because it's only 2D represented as 3D. You have no reference to judge how far something is forward or back.

At the moment it's a novelty. In fact one of the demos that comes with the remote is called Tumble and you basically stack blocks using your remote. After about 5 minutes it occurred to me, I'm stacking fucking blocks on top of one another; this isn't advancement, it's regression. Also, I can feel my intolerance towards having to stand up to play a game growing bigger and bigger.

There is the EyePet thing too, which was pretty boring and again just a worthless novelty. It was like a better version of a Tamagotchi or a shitter version of a Furby. At least you can touch a Furby. Guess what the first thing I did was though? Yep, I got naked and stroked my EyePet with my penis. I think that's about the most fun you can have with it. Just like the most fun you can have on Home is trying to get people to chase you, its designed purpose is not as fun as the perverted or annoying one you create.

But yeah, my general sentiment is that it's alright, but not worth buying unless you like the Wii, and most people that actually play video games do not. And to Sony, how about you work on the very basic idea of cross-game chat instead of dildos and webcams? The Japanese eh? Perverts.

A Note on a Couple of Phrases

2010-10-04T02:28:00.004+01:00

The first:

"It's always in the last place you look."

Guess what? No shit. It's in the last place you look because you stop looking after you find it, not because everything you lose somehow ends up in an enlighteningly absurd place.

The second:

"It's always those you least expect."

No it isn't, because if it was we would be expecting to expect the previously determined "unsuspected". In short, if it was, this phrase wouldn't exist.

That is all.

The PlayStation 3 Story - Epilogue to the Epilogue

2010-10-03T18:18:00.007+01:00

I think I spoke too soon yesterday. Today was a fucking ball ache.

I got up at 10am to get all this PS3 shit done early but it turns out formatting a 60GB PS3 hard-drive takes 3 fucking hours and 35 minutes, so I actually twiddled my thumbs until it was done. Then I went to HMV to trade it in. They were out of 320GB models. Although there were no senior members of staff there at the time so I wouldn't be surprised if the incompetent cocksuckers lied because they didn't know how to trade a console in. That had a subsequent knock on the way the rest of the day went. It's a Sunday, by the way, and for those among you who have never left your house, Sundays are bastards for retail. Everywhere is understaffed and shuts earlier.

Then I went to Game who only offered £110, so then I went to Blockbuster who only offered £90. I'm sure you see the recurring pattern.

The nearest HMV was in a neighbouring town, and it was closing in on 3.30. The shop shut at 4.30. When I got there they had a 320GB model and everything I wanted (although it turns out it wasn't Tiger Woods and Resi, it was Tiger Woods or Resi), so I handed over all my shit. By the way, I'd been lugging this heavy as fuck PS3 around in a back-pack for most of the day. I hadn't shaved either so my face itched. I was pissed off and hot, sprint-walking around town in pants that kept wanting to fall down. It was raining, also. Anyway, I handed over all my shit to the girl and it turns out I missed one little feature of the full PlayStation 3 set: the shitty composite to scart adaptor, that I've never used because even if you don't have a HDTV, who the fuck is buying a PS3 and doesn't have at least the red, white and yellow composite sockets in their TV? Shit, who doesn't have that in their TV, period? I had to go home and pick up one of the eighteen hundred I have lying around. These adaptors have been in use since PlayStation 1 for dick's sake.

Once I got home I tore my room apart because guess what, I couldn't find the official PlayStation one. I found a shitty third-party manufactured one in like 5 seconds. There must be a hole in reality that all these composite to scart adaptors fall into and just remain for all eternity, never to be seen again. I ended up going in the loft and robbing the one out of my Dad's PS3 box and giving them that. I made it back in time. Had like 5 minutes spare. Now I wish I didn't sprint-walk and instead took a leisurely stroll.

Oh, and I had a stroke of genius in the car on the way back, after destroying my room. I could have just given the woman the adaptor out of my new PS3 box and saved myself the silly ass journey. WHY DID I NOT THINK OF THAT EARLIER?

But yeah, this is the end of the end. I now have another PlayStation 3, but a new problem has arisen. I have no Glastonbury ticket.

Apparently they went on sale today and I god damn fucking missed it. My mate told me the other day that registration was on Sunday from 9am, but then a few days later he told me that registration was like Thursday or something, so I thought he was correcting himself. Turns out he wasn't and Thursday was registration, Sunday was buying the tickets. Could it have fucking hurt to just put in the registration confirmation e-mail "don't forget tickets go on sale on Sunday" because I didn't know. I don't listen to the radio where this was no doubt mentioned every half a second. It wasn't made clear on their site either because if it was I would have NOTICED it. See how you notice the word "NOTICED" there? Like that. Caps is all I'm fucking asking, cocksuckers. There's a resell period in February when all the people that decide they don't want their tickets sell them back to the retailer, I'm hoping I can jump on that and get a ticket. It's probably doubtful though.

Ugh.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the, albeit mundane, PlayStation 3 ride. It's fun for a little while but then it breaks and you get stuck upside down in the middle of an amusement park, your money emptying itself from your pockets and floating down into a big Japanese guy's mouth.

The PlayStation 3 Story - Epilogue

2010-10-02T22:52:00.004+01:00

The story has come to a close, brothers and sisters.

The resolution goes like this. I took the PS3 to an independent repair shop today and they re-soldered the motherboard for £50. They're pretty open about the fact that it's not a permanent fix and they're really just providing a means to salvage your game data. By the way, just for reference, that's what honesty sounds like. Oh, and of course it was the soldering. They didn't even re-solder it, just melted what was already there with an ultraviolet pen. It took them 45 minutes.

Tonight I backed up my PS3 to my external hard-drive and now I have all my save data. I'm still unsure whether it will let me restore it to a different console because on top having all of the pride but none of the honour of their fellow samurai, Sony shit in your cereal by encrypting your fucking data when it backs it up so it can only be decrypted and reinstated on the same console. WHY SONY? I already steal your fucking PSN games by logging into my friends' accounts and downloading what they paid for, free. I'm hoping though, that I can format the new hard-drive so it allows me to reinstate it. If not, I already manually backed up all the non-protected save files, I just have to copy them back to the PS3. I Do lose Skate 2 and 3 data though. Fuck, why are protected save-files as well, to stop sad bastards cheating trophies? Who gives any kind of fuck about that?

So tomorrow, as unethical as this is, I'm taking my newly repaired PS3, knowing it will break soon (the dude at the shop says they usually fail again within 3 weeks to 3 months) to HMV to part-exchange it. It's unethical because they then sell my console as a pre-owned one and if somebody buys it it will break on them. However, it will be within warranty, so they'll get a replacement, so I feel a bit better about that. I'm sick of this bullshit though, so when it comes down to it, fuck everybody. I have no problem shafting HMV.

I'm getting a new 320GB PS3 Slim with PlayStation Move (gay, I know. I'll explain in a second), Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2011 and Resident Evil 5 Gold Edition for £284.99. They're giving me £140 for my old PS3 so altogether it comes to £145, plus the £50 for repairing. It's expensive (although not by comparison to RRP) but it's an investment. Also, I've wanted a bigger hard-drive on it for a while and there's only about £50 between the cheapest deal and the most expensive. Fuck it, I'll splash out. It's better than paying £131 for a refurbished launch console, losing all my save-data and having to wait weeks for it to be returned to me. Oh, and that other thing: It'll break again.

I'm sure this overheating bullshit will happen again in this new console, it will just take longer to because the PS3 Slims have a lower operating temperature. However, I am prepared as I now have knowledge of this consumer sales act, or whatever the fuck it's called law, which I shall divulge momentarily.

But for the moment, here's me explaining why I got PlayStation Move: to buy the 320GB PS3 without anything but a pad it still costs £284.99, so I effectively get all this other shit free. That's about it, really.

Okay, here's the information I promised. Apparently there is some legislation that very little know exists, probably because anybody that wants to sell you something will never tell you it does and who the fuck reads Which Magazine anyway? It says that after purchasing something, anything, you are covered for at least 6 years providing you have the original receipt and if it fails to fulfil its function, you are entitled to a replacement. It's something along those lines anyway. The sentiment is the same. You need an independent report assessing the product from somebody like the dude that repaired my PS3 (he charges £20 for it), and you basically just wave that badboy in the face of the monkey behind the till. Then they drag their knuckles to the store room and have no idea why they're giving stock away, but have to. 'Tis the law, apparently.

However, my PS3 broke once already and in sending it back to Sony I apparently forwent my bloody rights when they replaced it with a refurbished unit. So be warned, sirs and dames! Even when Sony are doing shit for free they aren't doing shit for free. I no longer have the original product I bought from Argos all those years ago so couldn't lay down the law, as it were. Some other poor bastard half way round the world probably has it now, and he's probably ranting to the imaginary people that read his blog about getting the Yellow Light of Death.

So kiddies, that's the end of this fairytale. Now can you tell me the moral of the story? That's right! Never buy anything, ever. It just breaks and costs you more money.

Thought #52 - The Army

2010-09-29T23:56:00.005+01:00

For most, joining the army isn't an act of bravery, it's an act of desperation. They're too worthless to the world for their life to mean anything more than its absence.

Sometimes the people joining up aren't dickheads, they just aren't too intelligent and didn't do well at school, or mercifully, they think they're making a difference. Awww. This idea still applies, but in that context it's sad instead.

I'm just sick of all these dickheads I went to school with joining the army because they can't do anything else, then suddenly being revered. It's a sick joke. The very opposite of karma. It's a win/win for their legacy. If they die then they a hero as far as everybody is concerned, if they live then they fucking live a hero too. Joining the army is the social equivalent of confessing your sins, and just about as illusory. But this world runs on illusions. Gestures mean more than fact because gestures are easier. Gestures only vaguely suggest and let you fill in the gaps with what you want to hear. Facts are too definitive and threatening to the favoured romanticized interpretation.

Ultimately I guess they're not really rewarded, as they run the chance of getting shot in the face quite regularly, but I hate when people think they're something and don't know they aren't. Also, when that frame of mind is constantly reinforced, it makes me want to start ruining lives.

The PlayStation 3 Story

2010-09-29T17:25:00.005+01:00

I feel like having alluded to the, at the time, non-existent PlayStation 3 story in the previous blog I overstated how interesting it actually is. The reason the previous blog displays the cyborg innards of my PS3 is because, well, it broke. It didn't break in any normal fashion though, the prick. It had to teabag me first, then proceed to teabag me further. "T-bag" or "teabag"? I prefer "teabag" because dipping your balls on somebody's face is much more similar to the act of dipping a teabag in boiling water. I almost said "dipping a teabag in your tea" there, but who dips teabags in tea? That's like putting toast in your toaster. Besides, "T-bag" sounds like a gangsta rapper.

Anyway, last Thursday Dead Rising 2 came through my letterbox. One sec though. Have you noticed I always stop half way through stories to talk about something else, or deconstruct something I mentioned? I like to keep these blogs stream-of-consciousnessish, so if you were wondering, that's why it happens. With that said, you probably think my consciousness has ADD the amount of times I double-back on myself and take alternate routes before coming back to the original one.

Now cometh the inevitable segue between irrelevance and relevance: "anyway".

Anyway, I was playing Dead Rising 2 all day, happily I might add. It was splendid. I set it up to load the online mode, and then quickly went to get a drink but when I came back the console was off. How peculiar, I thought. I turned the console back on but the standby button was refusing to power it up, so I turned off the main switch and turned it back on. The console powered up and I went into the online option on the game again, but then disaster struck! The screen froze and the console powered down. Then ever subsequent attempt to turn on the console failed. I realised after a few tries that there was a little yellow light blinking before the red one went flashing for all eternity. I ran a web search and literally shat myself when Google assumed my search before I finished writing "yellow light PS3".

Before I continue, bare in mind that the original Dead Rising is one of my favourite games ever.

Now I shall continue. The Dead Rising 2 disc got stuck the fuck inside the disc-tray. On its day of release, no less. This is a game I've looked forward to for about a year and on its release date the bastard gets stuck inside my fat fuck of a PS3. Colour me teabagged. I don't think anybody was owned this hard since Shakespeare died on his birthday.

In short, fuck Sony. However, you know who I blame for this? You guessed it! Microsoft! They made their console out of shit with the durability and longevity of sticks and bits of chewing gum so everybody else had to to catch up with their stupid, purely quantity, quality-less productivity. Bah, that's not wholly true, but whatever. It played a part.

My PS3 is a launch console so apparently this problem has been eradicated in newer consoles but that holds no relevance to me. It's like those Natwest adverts that parody banks that only give benefits to new customers. All that information does is reassure new customers, while the rest of us old customers are pulling at the suits and hair of Sony affiliates, trying to get their fucking attention. I rang Sony and those bastards want £131 off me to repair the console, or swap it for a refurbished one. But not even a newer console where this problem doesn't exist; they'd just give me another old one where it's probably likely to occur again. They say they make no profit on it too. Are they soldering with fucking gold? Seriously.

I should also mention that the PS3 has broken once already, late in 2008. It stopped reading discs. Sony replaced that for free when it wasn't under warranty. I realised recently that that's the only problem they will admit blame for, and replace for free. Probably because it costs nothing.

I got totally lawyered on the phone too. I asked "is it not true the brittle solder used in older PS3s causes it to crack, typically causing this problem?" in an attempt to get them to admit inherent fault, because it's not mine is it? The console has barely moved more than an inch since I've owned it. It's well ventilated etc. Eat a dick. Their answer was along the lines of the fact that the yellow light doesn't connote any specific problem, just that there is one. They cannot confirm or deny that it is the solder until they get it and have a look, and once they get it you realise it's like North fucking Korea over there. Never confirming it as an inherent fault keeps them from losing money on a mass recall. Also, Sony have never revealed the cot damn number of consoles with the solder problem because it is "commercially sensitive". Oh right, that makes it okay then. As long as nobody knows you're the closet rapist all the parents are hiding their kids from, that's fine, because that would hurt your reputation, wouldn't it? Fucking immoral cunts.

Fuck that one year manufacturer warranty too. It's complete bullshit. You just end up with consoles with life spans of a year because after that it's not their problem. Consoles should last for at least as long as their generation. That seems like a fair compromise. I know it's hard to judge when a new generation will occur but shouldn't they all be aiming for total quality anyway? My PlayStation 1 still works for fuck's sake. They should be at least assured until the end of their generation, unless you drop it in a swimming pool or something to actually fuck it up yourself.

I sent an e-mail to Sony too, saying "Want to hear something interesting? I own a PS3, I do not rent one. With that said, why is it that you expect me to pay to fucking use it every year? Fix your product."

Ugh. The reason you see my PS3 in half, anyway, is because I'm not paying £131 for it to be repaired and my Dad used to build the cock-pits of aeroplanes so a PS3 shouldn't be that complicated. He figured it was the solder, and if it wasn't, he presumed he could fix whatever else it was. You should see how you get into the PS3 as well, it's like Cluedo with a secret bookcase switch and shit. The central rubber grommet that is usually for gripping the surface if you stand your PS3 on its side pulls out, and there's a screw behind it that loosens the shell of the console. However, to do this, you have to rip off the "this will invalidate your warranty if removed" sticker, which I felt bad about even though it's already out by years.

As it turned out, the PS3 is a fucking fortress. The main motherboard, where all the soldering is, is protected by some crazy metal plate on either side. Once you get to that centre you can practically strip the console down millimetre by millimetre, so my Dad was like "fuck that". I read estimates of it taking like 4 continuous hours to strip and reassemble a PS3. He did get my Dead Rising 2 disc out of the blu-ray drive though, which I was happy about. Now I play it on his PS3 until mine's fixed, saving my data to a memory stick for seamless play! Speaking of fixed, I found a shop in town that re-solders the console for £50, which is still expensive but significantly better than Sony's alternative. I think they know that though. Sony's price is ridiculous, so by comparison, what would normally be quite steep, doesn't seem so bad. Also, if they don't fix it, it's free.

So that's basically it! I take all the moderately "nice" shit I said about Sony in the past back. It's still a better console than the 360, but it's a shame its parents are drunken child-beaters.

I hope all that deflection and diversion made the story fractionally closer to the impossible expectation I created.

Curing Curiosity #2

2010-09-27T16:12:00.006+01:00

Ever wonder what the inside of a PlayStation 3 looks like? Well, here you go, complete with blacked out serial codes because I don't trust you motherfuckers.

If you're wondering why I tore my PS3 apart, await the next post. Also know as here. Ahem, click "here".

Mr. Pseudonym 1, Universe 0

2010-09-27T15:51:00.005+01:00

I think the universe has some seriously fucked up event heading my way in the near future, namely seeing MF Doom at the Warehouse Project. For those unfamiliar, the Warehouse Project is basically a giant sweat-box that sits underneath the train station at Piccadilly, in Manchester, that hosts gigs. There tend to be 5/6 artists playing in one night and they last until the early morning in most cases. None of it sounds appealing to me. I hate large venues and if it wasn't for the music, gigs would make one of the top 5 places I hate to be. I've been flip-flopping about whether I want to go or not. I like Doom, but fuck standing around for 5 hours in a crowd of dickheads, suffering through the shitty acts that are on before him. One of the DJs is from the XX, a band that writes songs with about as little music as humanly possible. Fuck those guys.

I just read now that Doom has frequently not showed up to gigs in the past, and arranged some imposter to stand in. What the fuck? Imagine I went through all that bullshit just to see Doom -an artist I only really like 2 albums by anyway- and the motherfucker doesn't show up.

I'm not going. It's like volunteering myself to be cock-slapped by the universe. I'm denying it the pleasure.

Another Thread in the Keffiyeh

2010-09-12T14:20:00.005+01:00

I was in Tesco yesterday evening and my friend pointed out this god damn abomination:

I'll clarify, even though I shouldn't have to if you know a fucking thing about me and the things I write on this blog, but I didn't buy it. I just took the photo in the shop and put it back on the shelf. Also, if you're wondering, yes, that is Mr. Pseudonym's thumb.

I just ran an internet search on the bastard above and apparently there's a shit load of others in the same vein. Case in point:

Here's a further list of their drinks, followed by their taglines:

Trashy Blonde - "you know you shouldn't"

77 Lager - "juxtaposition pilsner"

5 A.M. Saint - "iconoclastic amber ale"

Punk IPA - "post modern classic pale ale"

Hardcore IPA - "explicit imperial ale"

Paradox - "whisky cask aged imperial stout"

Tokyo - "intergalactic fantastic oak aged stout"

Tactical Nuclear Penguin - "beer for the dedicated"

Sink the Bismarck! - "IPA for the dedicated"

They love their pale ales. I have to admit though, I didn't know what the shit that acronym even meant 'til 2 seconds ago. Thought they were going on about the international phonetic alphabet. Forget that though because HOLY MOTHER OF THAT FUCKING CUNT GOD, THIS IS THEIR WEBSITE'S INTRODUCTION:

"At BrewDog we are setting the record straight. We are committed to making the highest quality beers with the finest fresh natural ingredients. Our beers are in no way commercial or mainstream. We do not merely aspire to the proclaimed heady heights of conformity through neutrality and blandness. We are unique and individual. A beacon of non-conformity in a increasingly monotone corporate desert. We are proud to be an intrepid David in a desperate ocean of insipid Goliaths. We are proud to be an alternative."

Congratulations there dickhead, max-string combo. You dropped the whole poser dictionary in one paragraph.

Also, one of the founders wears a trilby:

It is believed the secret ingredient is hipster sweat.

Do I really need to say much more? This looks like the British equivalent of the Pabst Blue Ribbon beer of American hipster horror stories. However, I'd not be surprised if needs-a-fucking-apostrophe-Selfridges imported that shit before this came along. This is the total epitome of the aestheticization and exploitation of the things hipsters sweat over, wishing they had, yet can never attain: intelligence, sincerity, non-conformity and independent thought. They just go about their pretend variety of independent thought, chugging this illusion on the way. But alas, the illusion is all they require. And on top of all that IT'S NOT EVEN APPLIED RELEVANTLY. What the hell does beer have to do with anything? It really is just name-dropping. It's so shameless, fuck.

God damn it. I hate these cocksuckers.

The new face of the word 'Vulgar'

2010-09-11T00:20:00.002+01:00

I recently coined the following terms in a swearing nerd rage, and I believe they redefine the concept of vulgarity.

They are:

"Cunt the fuck off!" and "What the motherfuck?!"

You heard it here first.

Thought #51 - The Extended Honesian Hypothesis

2010-09-09T22:14:00.003+01:00

All irrelevances in any given situation can be rendered relevant if the people concerned are stupid enough.

See The Honesian Hypothesis for further clarification.

More like Dicks of Leon. HA!

2010-09-07T04:32:00.008+01:00

When we signed the deal with RCA, it was just me and Caleb. The label told us they were going to put a band together, but we said, 'We're going to buy our little brother a bass, he's a freshman in high school. Caleb will teach himself the guitar. Our cousin Matthew played guitar when he was 10 and I'll play drums.' The record label agreed.
-Some monkey from Kings of Leon.

I just read this on Wikipedia and subsequently on its source site to verify. No, I don't like Kings of Leon, some dude on Last.fm was trying to tell me how Europe has 'better' music taste than the USA. I was saying how that it's a really romanticized idea and that Europe isn't the fucking promised land for 'good' music. Notice the inverted commas? Yeah, that's because there's a highly subjective element associated with his remark, and because he actually listens to stuff I think is shit. I actually don't know why he added me. I think because I'm European. Eugh. I'm not even European in the widely generalised sense this dude harbours. The UK is the least 'European' country there is and beside that fact, we're practically a cultural exclave of the USA.

Anyway, he mentioned how the USA doesn't appreciate what he regards as good music, and mentioned how Kings of Leon were popular for about five years in Europe before they were in America. I was looking on Wikipedia for their sales history and it turns out they weren't really popular anywhere outside of the UK until that burn fetish track, and that was because there was a big market for Indie at the time. I don't doubt that people liked Kings of Leon's music but it was the initial lack of objectivity that annoyed me. There were a flurry of other Indie bands that came and went in a hurry as well, all off the back of it all. Anyway, to me it seemed more to do with credible conformity than it did with "better" music taste. And I'd argue that it wasn't better at all, which brings me back to the initial quote.

So here we are, back at the start. Seamless circles make me hard. That quote is actually literal fucking proof that aside from making boring music they were likely incompetent musicians to boot. They're straight admitting they got signed and half the band couldn't play shit.

That's sick to me.

I'm running out of blog titles I haven't already used, not that Blogspot cares; I just do.

2010-09-07T03:10:00.008+01:00

Apparently now you get statistics all the way up to how many loose pubes were shaken from each visitor's body before they left the blog, but forget that shit for a minute.

What the fuck was this^ about? Am I a hit? Is that what this means? Fuck, If I monetised this page, well I coulda made, erm... 31... divided by the... LIKE 20p! SHIT. But Mr. Hicks wouldn't approve of that now would he? This also begs the question: what the sweet Jesus happened in August for this shit to be like that?

I bet I made the news for blowing fart bubbles from my arse-hole with Fairy Liquid again.

Thought #50 - Idealism

2010-08-02T16:29:00.005+01:00

Idealism as a philosophy basically describes anything that isn't reality. It's gathered a semantic following though, as most words tend to, and its most frequent context connotes a romanticized, naive or unrealistic cultural, social, philosophical or political paradigm.

As sad as that is to begin with, it now seems as though the word is closer to its original definition than ever before, as the complacency of humans has reduced it to portray any alternative to what has already become our reluctantly accepted reality; not just the unrealistic, naive or romanticized, but any little deviation from our present reality.

Now your free will is idealistic.

Thought #49 - Morons who happen to be soldiers

2010-07-31T02:32:00.005+01:00

It's good to know not all cannon fodder is a waste of human life.

Know any soldier pricks? I don't, but the comrade of one I do know said something moronic recently.

Mentally Divergent

2010-07-31T01:57:00.003+01:00

Remember the blog 'Parallel Universes'? I spotted another one.

I was watching Twelve Monkeys earlier tonight and Bruce Willis's character at one point goes "All I see are dead people." TEHEHE, GET IT!?

I do.

So it's been a while, right?

2010-07-30T00:16:00.003+01:00

I believe the reason for this is down to a mixture of explanations. One being the fact that I've started using Twitter, and the intermittent "Thought #xx" blogs I do have taken the form of tweets rather than small inconsequential blogs. They'd normally sustain me from blog to blog and keep the blog in my mind so that when I do think of something this is the first place I think of saying it. However, I don't post shit I post on Twitter because I don't want the insanity of this blog to affect the opinions of the people that hear my music. I like to remain relatively faceless where my music is concerned. Forget me, just listen to the music. That kinda shit.

Another reason. I had exams throughout May so the blog wasn't my main priority, and then I did practically nothing during the whole fuck of June. I have no idea what other excuses I can conjure up, but that's about the extent of it.

In the time you've missed me I've graduated from university, turned 21 and masturbated approximately 264 times, only 184 of which resulted in ejaculation- I like to push my luck and see if I can squeeze out the ever rare three-hit combo spunk. You need to catch it on the volley, so to speak.

I don't know what to blog about, but figured I should throw this one in to keep the blog in the air.

Any ideas?

Thought #48 - Nicholas Cage

2010-04-11T03:00:00.001+01:00

FUCK HIM AND HIS FUCKING MUSHMOUTH AND HIS FUCKING SHITTY REDNECK ACTING.

Talking to my Mum earlier

2010-04-11T02:50:00.002+01:00

She was recently in Spain with my Dad, Gran and Aunt. She was talking about this dude they met who bought them all dinner one night. He said he was in "waste management".

He's totally in the mafia.

Curing Curiosity #1

2010-04-06T16:52:00.006+01:00

This may evolve into a full fledged theme on this here blog! Basically, if I do something and it yields a result and that result can be photographed, and you weren't quite sure what that result might be unless you tried it... well, I post those results. I'm not taking requests though. This will just be accidental deviations from normality that seem to be somewhat enlightening.

So, ever wondered what happens if you sprinkle the Super Noodle powder on your Super Noodles and then put them in the microwave for 3.45 minutes after forgetting to add water before you put them in? Me neither, until the results were presented to me today.

This is it:

Yup. That. Still stinks around here.

I take it back

2010-03-29T15:48:00.004+01:00

All of what I said about ShopTo.net's greatness, I take back. They're slippery, treacherous motherfuckers. This next part could either concern ShopTo or just the general shittiness of the Royal Mail, but I ordered the latest Pokemon game for DS way before it came out. It was released last Friday. I didn't get it until today (Monday). What the fuck is that shit? It's meant to be first class delivery. It was dis-fucking-patched on Wednesday. I usually get games Thursday, a day before their usual release date.

So yeah, as I say, that could be the Royal Mail, but I was then all ready to claim back £3 on the game because ShopTo say that if you preordered and don't get it by release date at least, they compensate you £3. First of all, they give you shitty store credit that expires after a month or so, and secondly, that apparently only applies if you use first class RECORDED DELIVERY, not regular first class post. Who the fuck has time to sit around in the morning (to early afternoon) waiting for the postman to deliver a package that actually could just slip through your letterbox for you to pick up when you come home if it wasn't for the fact that you had to sign for it? Shit, everybody is at work or somewhere else whenever the postman is about. Fucking gypos.

Thought #47 - Apologies

2010-03-24T16:01:00.004Z

If you're the kind of person that says sorry for shit you aren't sorry for, or just to pacify the other person even though you're right, then your apologises aren't worth shit when you are sorry for something.

Thought #46 - Ringtones

2010-03-24T14:30:00.005Z

When one is heard it translates into something a little like this-

"HEY EVERYONE THIS IS MY PHONE GOING OFF, HEAR THAT? YEAH, FUCKING MUSE. I LOVE MUSE, DID YOU KNOW? YOU SHOULD KNOW NOW I JUST TOLD YOU, HEY YOU! STRANGER! YEAH YOU WITH THE BEEHIVE DO, I LOVE MUSE, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT. I'M A BIG DEAL YOU KNOW, YES VERY IMPORTANT. THAT'S WHY MY PHONE GOES OFF, BECAUSE PEOPLE WANT ME. THEY KNOW I LOVE MUSE TOO. IF YOU LIKE MUSE I'M SURE WE COULD BE GOOD FRIENDS, JUST KNOW I'LL ALWAYS LIKE THEM A LOT MORE THAN YOU AND WHOEVER YOU KNOW THAT LIKES MUSE BECAUSE THEY'RE MY RINGTONE AND MESSAGE TONE AND MY ALARM."

Real people use vibrate. They're like socially approved poser badges.

Tehe

2010-03-24T14:29:00.000Z

All these people on Facebook making new friends every day. I feel left out.

Oh... wait.

Saw in its senile years

2010-03-22T03:11:00.003Z

"I want to play a game..."

"BLAPAAYHAUHHAHAGFAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT'S GOING ON?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! [generic OMFG response]"

"I've been watching you..."

"KLHVAIUVUIAGV"

"Yes, I saw you in your car today..."

"OIAVCPUHAPFUHAFKOPAF AAAHHHFH"

"You drive everywhere you go...."

":AKLA{AIOHAIOFHKAFK AHHAHUHHHUFHFUHFHHHUFHFFUUFHU"

"You went to get a pint of milk, no?"

"(calming down) y-y-yes, the milk, yes! I did..."

"Yet you live just a minute's walk from your home..."

"..uhh, yeah, I-I guess I do."

"HAVE YOU ANY IDEA THE SIZE OF YOUR CARBON FOOTPRINT?!"

"Whaat?"

"YOU DRIVE EVERYWHERE YOU GO. YOU ARE KILLING THE PLANET. NOW, THE PLANET SHALL KILL YOU... In fact I'm quite surprised you've not noticed that you're dangling over a volcano right now..."

Others might include playing too many video games and neglecting real life for a virtual one, oversleeping and missing out on life, not giving to charities and neglecting fellow human beings, farting and harming the planet via methane, mild misanthropy, being gay and neglecting the continuation of the human race, sitting too close to the TV and harming your eyes.

Sick Bastards!

2010-03-20T15:23:00.005Z

You know games like Bioshock 2 and Assassin's Creed 2? No, not just popular sequels to already popular games, but those games in particular and some others. Basically, they have extra downloadable content available for them, or are due to. Did you know that the content is actually already on your game disk? You just buy a shitty code to unlock it.

I thought the whole point in DLC was to give you extra shit, not hold back shit that is already on the fucking game disk, and then extort you for access to it. They're the fucking mafia. They figuratively came into your house, stole your shit and now want to charge you double to get it back. Fuck those bastards.

Assassin's Creed 2 actually removed two chapters from the game so that they could release them as extra DLC, or as it should be called "corporate circumcision content" or some other phrase a lot more witty than that. Point is, they stole your foreskin. They did. Imagine KFC taking off all the deep fried aspect to their chicken. The spotty nerd behind the counter is like "oh you want the skin? £16 please." They want to charge you extra for something you should already have. Those two chapters for Assassin's Creed 2 come to about £16. The game was £30 and had 10 chapters.

Speaks for itself.

Pretty Girl Gives Way

2010-03-19T00:23:00.006Z

This should pretty much be a headline in a newspaper. I was on a packed bus earlier today and it was time for everybody to get off. I was sat at the front because there were no seats and everybody had already stood up and were queueing to go downstairs before I could even be arsed to. But I did, I got up. I was stood there while everyone was passing right by, not giving way. Then this hot as fuck beyotch just stopped and let me go in. I was a bit pissed off to be honest. At first I was like "wow, that was pretty considerate" but then it slowly fell into this kind of "if she's hot as fuck and nice and considerate then what the fuck, that's totally not fair," mainly because that turns shit on its head. Attractive people are dicks! That's how it's meant to be. They can't take nice as well, then how the fuck are we regular motherfuckers meant to feel good about ourselves?

I hope she's really really dumb, and her giving way was just a stupid people tendency. Unless she wanted to flick my balls, in which case, WOO.

That didn't make the news though. Instead, my local Post Office being robbed did. Fucking cunts! I had shit I was waiting for.

Student Survey

2010-03-16T19:17:00.003Z

Those student survey guys are more persistent than the Gestapo. I got like 200 e-mails asking me to do it, to which I just refused out of sheer "FUCK YOU FOR SPAMMING MY SHIT", then tutors were plugging it, then I got about 3 forms in the post and then some bitch just rang me to get me to do it over the phone.

For something that's optional they sure are pretty totalitarian about it.

Seriously, how fucking helpful is a multiple-choice questionnaire? The fucker didn't even have an "neutral" option. I have to mildly disagree, strongly disagree, mildly agree or strongly agree with everything. I don't give a fuck about any of it so your questionnaire results are flawed, inaccurate, unreliable!

Eugh.

Spambots of the future

2010-03-16T18:32:00.005Z

Will be people! Real people! I was on MySpace before and this girl sent me a message asking me to add her on Messenger. It looked pretty fishy from the start. I suspected her of being a spambot but I went to her page and there was no site she was trying to link to, so I figured she was just weirdly forward. I replied saying "sure, what's up" and she asked me to add her on MSN, not fuck about on MySpace. Still smelled fishy, but I did it. Even if it was a paedophile it'd be like going to a zoo or something, where I'm safely behind thick plexiglass or bars. And anyway, I hear paedophiles are into the Brazillian pubic cuts, but ironically it's more like the Amazon down in my butthole. So anyway, this was a strange surprise. The spam was from a real person. I felt like I should talk her round and save from her vice ridden way of life. Like I was a regular Richard Gere, but I didn't. In fact I only though that, didn't even try to tempt her. Anyway, here's the short conversation. I say "her" with speech marks because that's the premise I'm meant to believe. However, I suspect it's probably a fat dude with hairy feet and a wife-beater vest sat on there trying to scam me.

Me- Yo

"Her"- hello

Me- So what's up? Pretty random message on MySpace.

"Her"- tnx for adding me. hve u seen my profile there?

Me- Yeah

"Her"- okc. cn u sign up to my link

Me- Ha. What link would that be?

"Her"- okjust follow my instructions and i will guide u so tht u wont be chgre ok. btw u got a cc or dc for age verification?

(after a moderate pause)

Me- What's your link?

"Her"- ok wht card are u using? tell me wht card so tht i know wht link i will gve u so that u wont be chrge

Me- Fuck that. Tell me what you want me to sign up for.

"Her"- u just need to sign up to my link so that i cn access u to my cam

Me- I thought you were spam to begin with, but REAL PEOPLE spam, not bots, that's pretty fucked up.

"Her"- come on. im also here to make new friends and mybe a serious relationshp too

Me- Haha. That's what every camsite spambot says.

"Her"- wna check frst my link?

Me- Go for it.

"Her"- ok, btw wht card are u using?

Me- LMAO

(after a moderate pause)

Me- This was an enlightening experience, cheers for that. But now, you get blocked. Enjoy being a sell-out. Peace.

"Her"- k

Haha, the ending makes me laugh.

TV Ratings

2010-03-12T00:21:00.003Z

How are these measured? HUH?! TELL ME!

Do they know when my TV is on or off? What if I have the TV on but I'm in the room? What if the TV is on mute? What if the TV is on stand-by? The signal would still be coming through because the TV isn't technically off, and when I turn stand-by off it will be on the same channel. What about if I have a cable box, Sky, or Freeview? Those fuckers never turn off, only your TV does. Does that mean I count towards ratings of whatever TV channel I left on when I turned the TV off?

Hmph.

LOBBBBALAAAAAA

2010-03-12T00:12:00.003Z

Mr. Pseudonym became a fan of "watching the adverts after forgetting what I'm watching is recorded on Sky+ so I don't need to watch the adverts."

Imagine a world like this! You're right, we don't need to imagine.

Sony present...

2010-03-11T13:33:00.004Z

...A dildo with a golf ball attachment.

This apparently means that PS3 are trying to cover all bases (as American as that phrase, and come to think of it concept, is), what with the Wii selling more shitty games than either of the 'real' consoles and 360's project Napal/Nasal (I couldn't decide on which was more witty). I don't mind that they're doing this if it doesn't impose itself. Like, the option is there but doesn't contrive games just to have it. Sixaxis does that sometimes, but I don't mind much because by its nature it's pretty limited. All it really does is make you turn valves in Resident Evil 5, or make you repeat the action 4 times before failing to dodge out of the way of cars during quick-time events in Heavy Rain.

I don't like this route anyway. Fuck making video games for non-gamers. I'm aware that market is bigger but shut the fuck up and just make real games. God damn gimmicks.

So now some Wii games are coming to the PS3, which sounds retarded to me. It's bad enough that games are released across the 360 and PS3 platforms, because each time I buy a multi-platform game for PS3 I'm probably buying something with about 30GB free space on the disk because the 360 is the standard for console gaming, due to some FUCKED UP CONSUMER MANIPULATION ASSOCIATED REASONS. It used to be that the most innovative and powerful console set the standard and all the less powerful consoles had compromised games, so they had to step their shit up. But releasing Wii games? Are they going to be toned up and remade? Or are they going to meet somewhere in the middle? Which isn't meeting in the middle at all because the middle would still be too powerful for the Wii. It's like a god damn PS1.5. BUT THERE SHOULD BE NO COMPROMISE ANYWAY. What the fuck is the point if your console doesn't live up to its capabilities just because some retards are holding it back? There shouldn't be blanket video game manufacturing. Each one should be made for each console, not aggregated and made into the common denominator.

I watch House right, and a character was in it once who was a genius. He said this while talking about his wife (or something like this, the message is the same), which I believe to be relevant here- "I have an IQ of 160, she's intellectually closer to a ferret than to me. It's bestiality." See what I'm getting at? That's what releasing Wii games for the PS3 would be like- bestiality.

Vaniller than ever before

2010-03-08T23:37:00.005Z

Hasn't Vanilla Ice spent the last 20 years apologising for 'Ice Ice Baby'? I guess a spot with Jedward was just too fucking great to pass up that it overruled that.

Cocksuckers.

...

2010-03-06T18:37:00.006Z

Oh right, you like Modern Warfare 2 for it's realism? Yeah okay, because there's nothing more real than fully operational 100 year old shotguns with infinite range or superpowers that let you teleport to your kill and run 20mph even with a heavy sniper rifle/rocket launcher either in your hand or on your back.

Eat a dick.

Balls

2010-03-06T17:03:00.002Z

This is the penis with oversized balls I drew on a post-it note and stuck to my brother's computer for him to find when he returned from the shower. Fun.

Cheery

2010-03-06T16:26:00.002Z

Nobody can fuck with this. Cherry flavoured anything is the shit. This is about as great as the 4 bottles of banana flavoured Yazoo milkshakes chilling in the fridge. Today is a great day for sexy tasting novelty drinks.

MySpace Throwback

2010-03-05T02:34:00.006Z

Okay so back in the days of MySpace, I would fill out these fuckers and post them as bulletins, normally answering with deliberately retarded answers or just deconstructing the questions. Answering in this way validated such an inane task as I was mocking what I was doing. So I got the fun of filling these fuckers in, but also the fun of taking the piss out of them. This pleased me. So, now you get to experience the comedic delights that once were.

This one is particularly retarded as it misses out numbers. This is actually quite representative of an authentic MySpace quiz. Silly bastards that write them.

1. If your doctor told you TODAY that you were pregnant, what would you say?

"How far would it have to go before you reconsidered this diagnosis?"

2. Do you trust all of your friends?

That depends on what with. Some can't really be trusted with being themselves. I'm going to say, for your garden-variety, all-purpose, never beyond the call of duty trust, yes. For more specific things, only a few are eligible for a yes.

4. Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?

(Oooh, classic MySpace quiz question) If we understand the question to translate to the idea of cause and effect, yes. But if you mean fate, fuck no. But Quantum Theory would suggest that shit can just happen regardless of reason. So, I shall modify. Everything man does happens for a reason.

5. Can you make a pound in change right now?

What does that even mean? If I stand outside and dance like a talentless hobo can I make a pound in change? Can I physically smelt down a pound coin? Or if I reach across my desk and grab five 20ps? Or does that not count? Does it have to be in my pocket? Fuck you.

6. Which one of your friends do you think would make the best farmer?

The one with the Belgian relatives. All that country has is cows and war memorials that look like they were designed by IKEA.

7. Are you afraid of falling in love?

Um, you can't fall in love. Just like you can't fart in love, or any other fucking abstract, symbolic rationalisation of how a person becomes "in love". It's just a fucking chemical anyway. You're a test tube.

8. Last concert you attended?

Oooh you're gunna be impressed now. Just watch. The latest concert I went to was the Tomasz Stanko Quintet, in November 2009. It's Jazz! Now doesn't that make you want to come over in your beret/flat-cap and discuss important matters with me? I'm sure it does.

9. Is there someone who pops into your mind at random times?

Stalin. Also Hitler, and Lenin. Churchill. Tarantino. Nobuo Uematsu. Rasputin. Pope Jean-Paul. God. Jesus. Moses. King Edward I. This could go on all day. Yes, there are many. Go ahead and assume that anybody I'm aware exists, has existed or has been invented in fiction 'pops into my mind at random times'.

10. Whats your most favourite scar?

"Most favourite?" By definition, favourite IS the most. I bet you say "worsest" too huh? Probably the one on my eye-lid. That wasn't actually inflicted by the dude that held a razor blade to it. It was inflicted by my brother's witch-like fingernails at one point. We were wrestling and he caught me in the eye. Either that one or the small one near my nose. OR the one on the back of my left hand. I think that was my first, save the belly button. I was pushing this plastic car when I was about 5 or something, and the ice-cream van was coming and I wanted a motherfucking ice-cream. So I was running with it and pushing it and I fell down. The pavement was the horrible, no longer council approved rough as fuck paving with little jagged bits pointing upwards. It was a bitch to skate on, I remember; and rub your skin on. Anyway yeah, it tore the skin off and must have been pretty deep because it's still there. It looks a bit like Australia, if it had a big stake through it.

11. When was the last time you flew in a plane?

Hold on, flew inside a plane? Never. I've sat inside a plane as it flew, but not the former. Reword your shit, gawd. It was last summer anyway. Back from Prague. I could swear we fucking time travelled, or I blacked out. One point I asked what time it was, so I could extrapolate how long until we landed and it was like 2 hours. Then I asked like 5 minutes later and it turned out we were half an hour away. WHAT THE FUCK? I was happy about it though. Fuck the armrest cold war going on between me and the cunt I was sat next to.

13. What features do you find most attractive in the preferred sex?

Their face. My only criteria for how attractive a girl needs to be is just cute in the head area and +/-2 of the average body size. How that's quantifiable or what unit of measurement the 2 is, I do not know, but +/-2 just sounds right. That says to me that she can be a wee bit chubby or a wee bit skinny and we're good to go.

15. What is a goal you would like to accomplish in the future?

I don't really have goals. I just do shit and see what happens.

16. If you were to wake up from being in a coma for an extended time whom would you call?

Fuck, you have something as exciting as a coma happen and all you can ask is who I'd call? You boring motherfuckers. To answer the question though, probably my Mum. YEAH WELL YOU ASK A BORING QUESTION YOU GET A BORING FUCKING ANSWER DON'T YOU!?

17. How many kids do you want to have?

I used to think none. I thought it'd be selfish to bring them into this fucking world, and also feared they'd become one of the stupid morons I loathe so much. AND, I had a really selfish idea about it, that my life was mine, and nobody had the right to say I had to devote however much time to anything other than what I wanted to do. I joked half seriously that kids were the last resort when attempting to resolve an identity, or existential crisis. "OMG I HAVE NO PURPUSSSSS. OMG I KNOW I'LL HAVE A BABY." It played out in my mind like some kind of Lil' Self-Awarded Purpose Starter Kit. For some people it is. They really shouldn't have babies. They should kill themselves. I have, however, changed my idea on it since. I would like to have a child with somebody. I shall not divulge why, because I don't really know why. It was just a gradual shift in opinion. No more than 3. 3 is a big number. There's your answer.

18. Would you make a good parent?

Everyone likes to think they would, but I have no idea. Good parent or not though, that kid wouldn't be a stupid ignorant cunt. That, I can ensure. Unless I'm hit with some major shit working against me, like... them having Down's Syndrome or something.

19. Where was your profile picture taken?

Dunno. This isn't MySpace. I SAID THIS. I do have a picture on Facebook though where I'm taking a shit out of the frame. It's awesome. You'd never guess which one it is.

20. Honestly, what's on your mind right now?

That hot psychiatrist bitch from The Departed showed her arse in this film about an hour ago. When this finishes I'm totally gunna Google that shit and beat off to it. Also-, hey, that's Elliott Smith (music in this scene (the film is 'Up in the Air'- not as bad as Juno, some shameless "funny" scenes though, that serve no real purpose than to impose a nose chuckle. I kinda wanna fuck George Clooney as well, so that probably makes me like this film a bit more (Hm, I think I have a thing for older men. I'd love an orgy with Hugh Laurie and George Clooney))).

21. If you could go back in time and change something, what would it be?

Eh. This is such a quiz question.

23. Who was the maid of honour in your wedding?

I'm starting to think this here quiz was for the species with a vagina.

24. What are you wearing right now?

My Silverback Gorilla head slippers (not real gorillas), grey ankle socks underneath white sports socks, grey Nike sweat pants (hell yes) and a shitty grey hoody from Matalan or somewhere. It's fucked up. It's baggy as hell but only horizontally. It's really short. If I move my arms at all you get to see my midriff, or if I bend down or whatever. It used to be huge as well, but the second I put it in the wash it tensed up and shrunk like a 10 year old boy's bum-hole when you stroke it.

25. Righty or Lefty?

Big, BIG, question. You could consider me ambidextrous if it wasn't for the fact that which hand you 'are' is which ever one you write with. I write with my right hand, I kick with my right foot, but my dominant hand on the piano is my left, I shoot a basketball left handed, I beat off with my left hand. Also, I generally prefer my left hand- it has that scar on it, and the ganglion, and the more prominent vein.

26. Best place to eat?

Anywhere that serves real Nachos with that cheese that seems to only exist in the place where they serve real fucking nice Nachos. I think the cheese company only sell it to restaurants so that they have a monopoly on the real fucking nice cheese that fixes the Nachos.

27. Favorite jeans?

YER MAW'S HAHAHA. Naw, but really. I only have two pairs of jeans that I even wear. One pair aren't even jeans. They're cargo pants. I'd say those but if we're being purist here, the other pair.

28. Favorite animals?

This is possibly the hardest question on the whole fucking quiz. I don't god damn know. Fuck off.

29. Favorite juice?

Apple son! If they made Cherry juice I'd be all over it, but alas, they do not.

30. Have you had the chicken pox?

Yes, yes I have.

31. Have you had a sore throat?

Almost every fucking month a sore throat creeps in. Fucking bastards. It's not so bad if it's just a sore throat, but it tends to be those irritating as fuck inner-ear itches that get you right at the back of the throat. It feels like a hair is trapped there, but you know what's tormenting about it? THERE IS NO HAIR. You hock your fucking guts up all day trying to dislodge that hair but nothing. Nothing! Although I'm sure if you hocked enough you'd eventually suck up a hair all the way from your arse-hole into the back of your throat.

32. Ever had a bar fight?

Nope, my name's not Hoss either, and I don't have a 50s pin-up girl tattooed on my arm, or rock leather chaps or big boots. Plus, my facial hair is piss poor. I'm not what you'd call the bar fighting type.

34. Shoe size?

11, UK size standards. That is all.

35. Ever been in a fight with your pet?

If I have I'm pretty sure it'd be one sided and the pet's side wouldn't even know it was a fight. I'm gunna go out on a limb and say no.

36. Been to Mexico?

Wait... Mexico exists in real life? I thought it was like Atlantis, or Babylon. A mythical land where American ex-patriots dwell after robbing banks! Either that or just a sitcom conceit so that they can crack jokes about poor people and cleaners.

37. Did you buy something today?

Yes, Solaris and a WoW account, suckaaaaaaaaaaaaw. I was on the bus from university into town and had an extra £5 and some change, so I figured I'd go to Fopp and see what there was. It was mostly shit, or I have it already. I bought Solaris. I've been playing the World of Warcraft trial for a few days and it's fun enough. I'm sick of not being able to open the mailbox where my brother sent me 5 big dirty bags so I can hold more shit, and not being able to use the auction house and so forth. It's like £8 for a month. Think about that! Most games last anywhere from about 8 to 14 hours. I played 20 hours of WoW without paying a fucking thing. The trial lasts 10 days. You can argue that you get to keep other games and play them whenever you want, but how many of the games you own do you even do that with? I do it with about a fifth of the total games I own, and that's optimistically speaking. If you like WoW, it's great. Your money goes a long way and the game doesn't end. They don't trap you into a subscription either, you can just pay as you play, and they never delete your characters even when your account isn't active, so fuck you.

38. Did you get sick today?

Um, no.

39. Do you miss someone today?

Not until you made me remember you dirty rotten motherfucker!

41. When is the last time you had a message?

Text message? Carrier pigeon? Does somebody telling me something, ANYTHING, count? I'll go with text message. Earlier today. O2 are trying to sell me Dancing on Ice priority tickets again.

42. Last person to lay in your bed?

ME DURRRRRRRRRRR.

43. Last person to see you cry?

Probably some random family member at a funeral. Yeah, it's true. Mr. Pseudonym is in fact human.

44. Who made you cry?

What, ever? Or are these questions all relative to the previous question? HAVE SOME FUCKING STANDARDS. But for the purpose of this question- the fucking dead guy did. Or maybe just the overall funeral shit. When I was told (it was my uncle) I didn't cry or anything. I was just like "...oh" but funerals are sad as shit. I couldn't tell if I was sad at my uncle dying or because it reminded me of when my Grandad died. He shouldn't have. It was NHS fucking negligence. He survived double heart bypass surgery and survived whatever was wrong with him 5-7 years later when he got sick- survived the operation and was stable. Then he got pneumonia and died because they decided to put him on a normal ward that, as is evident, he wasn't well enough to be on.

45. What was the last TV show you watched?

South Park. Got it on now in fact.

47. Who do you think will re-post this?

Fucking nobody. This isn't MySpace. That's the point.

49. Who was the last person you gave advice to?

Who the fuck cares?

51. How was your last kiss?

Tasty.

52. Last book you read?

As in completed, or last book I read a word from last? I'll answer both. The former: Bill Bryson - The Lost Continent. The latter: Art Spiegelman- Maus.

53. Last time your were drunk?

Ooooohhhhh I don't even know. New Year's Eve, maybe? I think I've been drunk since then but I can't remember for shit.

54. A memory..

What the fuck is this? This isn't a question. You want a memory? Pick any answer from this quiz and go ahead and assume I remembered that.

55. Ever hated your best mates Girlfriend/Boyfriend?

Not hated, but one turned out to be a bitch to my friend all the time. That surprised me, I got on with her until this came to light, then I was distant. I'd only really been around them when they were "out", not really in domestic situations, or after prolonged exposure to one another. We all went to a music festival and it became apparent she could be a biiiiiiiiiitch.

56.Lights on Lights off?

Lights on. Fuck the melatonin creeping in and making me tired. Or was that a really naive answer?

57.If you could be anyone for a day who would you be and why?

Real or imaginary? I like imaginary. Okay, a dude who gets to be anyone he wants for all infinity and can change whenever he wants, but also the power to be himself when he wants. That guy sounds like an economical choice.

58.Marmite?...love it or hate it?

Never tried it SO FUCK YOU. It's not an ultimatum if you've never tried it. Don't come in here inflicting your fucking marketing campaigns on me. You'll be asking me to try the Pepsi challenge next.

59.Angelina Jolie or Jennifer Aniston?

Angelina Jolie, I guess. I don't care much for either of them.

60.Last song played on your iPod?

I think it was Mos Def - Mathematics.

Today

2010-02-24T01:12:00.003Z

This isn't all that interesting. I haven't written an interesting blog for a while.

A fucking cocksmoking busdriver strikes again. I asked for an any-bus daysaver and the cunt gives me a regular daysaver, but I don't find that out until the second bus I get on rejects the ticket. Fuck, I made a special effort to enunciate ANY, BUS, DAY, SAVER too. You could argue that I should look at my ticket and what I've bought but grrrrr, fuck you. I shouldn't have to anticipate other people's incompetence. So basically, my 4 bus round trip to university cost me £7.10 today. The fuck is that? £3.50 for the daysaver (gets me on two buses), then £1.80 for the other two buses. When shit happens that I don't expect to my mind kind of wanders and I do things without thinking, like forget to get my change or ticket or something. Just small stuff like that. When I got on the second bus the dude just went "you can't use that" so after a brief dialogue about how it's Stagecoach only, I paid with a £5 note to take me to university. As he was getting the change, I picked up my ticket and also the £5 note and went to walk off. He noticed though. I was thinking how badass that would have been if I pulled it off. Major sleight of hand skills. I wasn't aware I was doing it either, so that just made it seem all the more normal. If I had the silly fuck that gave me the wrong ticket in the first place I might have got away with that shit.

On the way back, instead of going straight to my bus-stop I went and bought a film. On the way there this NSPCC bitch collared me. Neo-hippie. White girl with dreads and get this, her fucking gums or teeth were pierced. Terrible. It's like you have to be a freakshow to be one of those various corporation's high street fishermen. Especially the charities. You just don't care if you don't dress like a tree. She engaged me, the fucking cow. It got to a point where it was too late to walk off, so she started talking about how only 1 in 5 kids that ring their helpy helpline get through, so they need more money to presumably overcompensate on the telephone front. They said that if they get another either £1.8 million, or £18 million then the government will give them... I dunno, money? That doesn't make sense, but I wasn't really listening, just wondering when the fuck she was going to ask me for something. She talked about bullshit for ages, like where I was going, what I do, what I study (after she discovered what I do). I needed to say "Fopp" 10 times before she knew what the fuck I was talking about. Kept thinking I was saying "flop." Great. I pointed in the wrong direction for Salford, she laughed at that. Good connection. They teach you that in NSPCC social manipulation school? Fuck it. She eventually asked if I could sign up for some... thing, that means the NSPCC take out whatever amount of money per month I define. I was just like "...consistently? I don't work, I can't judge how much money I'll need at any one time SO FUCK YOU" ...not that last part though. Then I just asked if I could give her a couple quid and fucking leave, she said they don't have permits to collect money in the street. Then I said I'd check the website if I wanted to do something like that. She said I could sign up right there. I'm like "...in the street? I don't know my bank account details and shit." Then I hope that left her wondering why the fuck they do this in the street. She patted me on the back as I left. I don't like that. It's like bringing in your other hand when you shake a person's hand. Implicit dominance tactics.

After Fopp, I made it back to my bus. Towards the end of my journey I was staring out of the window and this disgusting fucking Gollum looking cunt pretty much arm deep in his pants was walking down the road. I figured I'd just stare at him until the bus took me beyond view. After no longer than 2 seconds an arm made it out of his pants to throw up this skinny fucking twiglet of a middle finger, presumably at me for staring. Usually I'd obsess about dickheads with irrational responses to things, and when they shout from their car or whatever. This time, nothing. I didn't even respond when he did it, nothing changed. I barely even realised and I was staring right at him. Usually hair on the back of my neck would stick up because it makes me rage like a motherfucker, this time I dunno if I was tired or what. Just didn't give a fuck. Still don't. Thought I might. Don't.

Black dudes realising they're black

2010-02-22T01:23:00.003Z

Have you ever encountered or even passed in the street a black person who's only just realised they're black? I say passed in the street because it's really that easy to tell. They're just so nerdy and uncomfortable that you can just tell. All it takes is for them to say any one of the stereotypical media-enforced black people phrases and you're like "HOHOHO, WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE THEN?"

I was sat waiting for a class the other day and this black dude walked past chatting with a load of white people and he suddenly came out with (in the 10 seconds our existences overlapped) something like "illin'" in the gayest fucking way possible. Pretty sure he pronounced the G too. Nobody was laughing, it wasn't ironic. What the fuck at self-appointed token black guy roles. Fair enough if you're from the kind of culture that speaks like that but this guy is English, which is probably the most basic reason not to say shit like this. Nobody in Britain is like that. The stereotype is innately American, so this makes his façade all the more obvious. So even if this guy was American, he's not going to be from that culture that exists in America because that type of culture isn't the type that moves to the UK. In America he'd be middle class too.

I bet all his white friends think they're super cool for knowing a black dude, no... a stereotypical black dude! And I bet he loves the fact he's the coolest guy in the crew. It's even worse when the dude is Pakistani or Indian. Fuck me, that's pathetic.

Learn to live right.

This shit is fucking hilarious

2010-02-13T04:28:00.004Z

You might want to clear your browser history and cookies after watching. Gotta love the marching slow motion dicks. And their cute little faces.

Target Demographic

2010-02-11T16:57:00.005Z

I just saw this advert on a website. Way to target your demographic. Young people are sluts; and also Facebook users.

WTF Moment #9 - Law Abiding Citizen

2010-02-07T22:33:00.003Z

It's been a while eh? This made me laugh a lot.

Ugh

2010-02-07T04:18:00.004Z

I just read over the members of one of my a classes at university and one of them is a bitch. There is nobody else on the whole of my course I would rather not be grouped with. She's dresses and looks like a 20 year old Cruella DeVille and sounds like Stan's sister from South Park. She has a major hard-on for Morrissey and name drops like a motherfucker. In fact one of the first things she told me when I met her in the first year was that she slept a member of The Courteeners. She invited me to go for lunch with her once but I said no. You know what I was doing instead? Nothing at all. Sitting on a bench in the cold waiting for my next class. She's a posing slag. She likes to attempt to alienate people in a semi-unique fashion too. She'll reference somebody obscure and talk about them as if everybody knows who they are and as if she's their greatest fan, or fucking knows them. It's corny and makes me cringe like a muhh'fuckuh. She asked out my friend too, and got shot down. She hates Rap as well, and it's not just ignorance either, it's not just the fact she isn't aware that there can be good Rap, she is just opposed to the idea, with little to base it on. So yes, she is a fuckhead. She's really outspoken too, and not in the kind of way that's a good personality trait, she just spouts of her thin fucking dumb mouth all the time, and if anybody's likely to say some insulting or stupid shit, it's her. So should she say it about any of my writing, bitch is catching a foot in the head. The most recent conclusion I've come to is that she's like a post-Hipster. She surrounds herself with working class shit, to the point where it's just a caricature of what working class is. Like "yeah, working class people swear a lot!" She commented on the fact she liked my name once, because it was blunt, and plain. No frills. That's the thing though. It's like some double bluff thing where she's being ironic about irony. Like holding a mirror to a mirror. Fuck that.

Ugh.

You know what's a difficult task?

2010-02-06T20:17:00.000Z

Trying to advertise HDTV via adverts on a regular TV. They resort to showing you vivid images of nature or shots of the planet which is just as pointless as showing a magnified image of a scrotum to show you the capabilities of HD.

They should just say "we can't actually show you what HDTV is like on your shitty outdated red-neck TV, but you know what? This thing is the truth, so go buy one. Seriously." Then they wink and point with a shit eating grin. But instead we get "hey, look at nature, this shit didn't exist before HD. I guess if you want to see nature and shots of the earth you'll just have to buy a HDTV. I mean, if you can do without, then cool. But can you?"

I swear to fuck I'd buy more shit inspired by advertisements if they were just candid about their intentions.

Carling (actually I wouldn't, it tastes like shit)-
What they say: "this beer is the shit, look... it's associated with football, that means it tastes good. We show you how good our beer is by showing you how good everything else we don't make would be, if it was made by us."

What they should say: "this beer tastes like shit, we know, but you buy it so... go get some more, I guess. You know we don't make all those products that would probably be the best in the world if we did, so we resorted to making shitty beer instead. You're meant to know how good Carling is by the adverts that have nothing to do with it. Is that cool? Above all though, we just want your money."

Pepsi Max
What they say: "you're so fucking cool for drinking this. Really. Wanna skateboard? Pepsi Max lets you do that. It's like the fucking Matrix in here. Anything you want, we got it in this can of fucking glory. Pepsi Max is the miracle cure. EXTREMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! You can do that self-assured cool dance if you drink this shit. Everyone will know how slick you are."

What they should say: "none of that shit will happen. It's really just a drink. It's not even good at being that though, there's so many chemicals in it, plus we sneak in a little ingredient that makes you more thirsty after drinking it, so you buy more. Above all though, we just want your money."

Lynx
What they say: "NEED BITCHES!? BUY LYNX."

What they should say: "this deodorant won't get you women at all. All our scents smell the same and nobody likes them. Only people who wear tracksuits buy this shit and they use it as cologne and have no teeth. Perhaps its most useful function is that of a flamethrower, so I'd buy it for that if I were you. Above all though, we just want your money."

Thought #45 - Cutting Corners

2010-02-04T16:54:00.004Z

If you don't cut corners you're a square.

I could really do with that sunglasses wearing, self-assured cool guy emoticon to accompany this. I came up with it in conversation. That's rare. People usually think of clever things afterwards, but this was relevant to the conversation. It was a great moment.

Okay, here's a compromise

2010-02-03T19:29:00.000Z

I'll dumb down when people get smarter, thus meeting them in the middle.

HAHA!