I always have a habit of making things feel really awkward. Take today for example: everyone was having a fine and dandy Graphic Design lesson, and it was all going well – Miss was explaining something, and told us that although it was hard, we’d get it, and that everyone finds it hard and uncomfortable at first, which I replied to ‘Yeah, just like sex’. Insert some Maddielene McCann and Baby P jokes right here, and we’ve got ourselves a pretty dam awkward event; like when everyone found out that Micky off The Bill got raped, by a man.
Dr. Sex.
I was at the doctors the other day, and for whatever reason, I was screaming behind a curtain while the doctor did her job. This job in my mind was to try her dam best to turn me on. And the only thing which hindered her scheme, was the fact my mother, being the intrusive and down right meddeling person she is, was behind the curting, asking, ’something wrong, son?’. ‘Something wrong? If there wasn’t, then why would I be screaming? God sake, woman, haven’t you got somewhere better to be? Like not in a room with your son and a very attractive doctor who happened to be called Dr. Chex, and happended to be rubbing up my leg as I attempted not to get a boner’, I thought to myself. My attempt was gracious, I thought, and I hope she noticed – I mean I’m sure she did; with ‘a young man’ as large as mine, and an ego to match, how couldn’t she? Yeah, I think she knew. I think she felt the connection between us – the illicit, sexual and quite frankly, unheard of connection; a connection that she may or may have known about, but a connection nontheless – which will inevitbly result in her further knowledge of the human anatomy, without the need for medical education and tutoring. Kanye West calls it ‘welcome to hearbreak’; I call it ‘Welcome to my cock’.
Fat people and why they are the low of the low.
Being the chauvinistic, self-righteous aristocrat I am; I felt it necessary to point out most, if not all, the imperfections in all of you, especially fat people as they are at the bottom of the food chain – just behind pedophiles and George Lucas.
I understand that in my philosophical food chain people whom aren’t on the same level as someone such as myself won’t completely understand the concept of my philosophy, and therefor my brilliance. Because of this, I thought I’d explain it in Lehman’s terms:
Fat people cannot claimed to be discriminated against in my view; they are who they are because of who they are. They can change at any point, yet they choose not to. It’s not the same as a more common discrimination such as racism because in that instance the race in which is being discriminated against cannot help who they are; they are born with it, it’s hereditary. Fat people, however, can change and should do so – they’re an eye sore and just a disgrace to the modern western world. It’s not like we need fat people bringing our credibility down even further – we already have a black president on the way and an economy to match.
Not that I’m saying that having a black president would be a bad thing, nor am I comparing being black to the awful mess which is the credit crunch because as we know: being black isn’t bad, it’s good; you get welfare checks and big penis’s. That is, of course, if you are from America.
I’m not even going to try to worm out of what I just said and claim that it was supposed to be in a metaphorical sense, because that would still make it incredibly rude and distasteful. Just like Jonathan Ross, I’d like to apologize for not only being more annoying than the Haribo advert with those two little children pretending to be the parents of their parents (confusing if you’re a retard, eh?) and having a fucking lisp, but also for being inappropriate and unpleasant. I understand that my act of grose impertinence may have caused offense, and because of this, I offer my full and sincere apology. Remember what an old friend of mine once said: I’m in it for the lulz.
Please don’t think that myself being the presumptuous cock I am would in any way make me want to inflate my ego further by being a egotistical wanker and writing a blog about my dislike for fat people, broadcasting it on an online forum for the world to see. That just isn’t me.
And why isn’t that me? Why wouldn’t I be a presumptuous cock and write to publicly undermine people of the larger variety without reason? That isn’t me because I do have reason; I have a logical philosophy and concept which do-gooder philanthropist just wouldn’t understand because they are ignorant and blind to see the truth. Therefor if there any reading now, I ask you to either go back to the De-Nazified camp in which you came from, and begin to rub your dirty emasculine left-wing balls all over any concealable race you can think of – race’s and people of whom don’t even like you being the do-gooder you are because most of the time you cause no good and instead incite even more hate on the people you attempt to help.
Take Muslims for example, the majority of white people in Britain dislike Muslims because of what white people do to ‘help’ them. They try and benefit their lives and as a result don’t benefit them whatsoever because it causes more grieve and anguish because white people get annoyed at it, even though it’s the Muslims themselves whom are fine with how things are in Britain, and do not want change.
Unlike being a racist or a philanthropist, I can give a view on something without being indoctrinated into a way of thinking by mass-media and corporate advertising; many people with weak minds, people who accept the life they are born into and the herd-behavior which comes with it will not have this capability and will therefor either go through life with just not caring, not having an opinion on something, or do the opposite of everything I stand for – for what real people stand for – and be a no good politically correct wanker whom will continue to support the decline of this once great country with their way of thinking.
This could possibly be the most random and unorganized rant I’ve ever wrote; forgive me, I’m tired.
Michael Jackson, Paul O’Grady, Davina McCall and more!
Parents of children whom attend a primary school in Las Vegas, Nevada, were shocked this week when famous pop-star, and alleged child abuser, Michael Jackson, moved just meters across the road from a primary school which teaches children aged 4-13.
What I don’t understand is their upset. Yes, he may of stuck his finger in a few childrens’ bum holes over the years, but who hasn’t? If anything their tears should be tears of joy and not distress – after all, he’s going to be doing them a favor: making sure those pesty little children never try and truant again. With MJ on duty, no one’s getting past those school gates! Although, in all fairness, no one ever would anyways considering those children are American, and therefor are born overweight, resulting in the walk across the road to MJ’s house being the equivalent to running up a hill naked with nothing but a shower cap and roller blades on.
How could you ever get mad at his face anyways? Especially if you are a homosexual, which where I’m from are referred to as ‘Manchester United fans’. I mean for god’s sake, look at him! The man’s got a freaking bum on his face. His soft, exuberant eyes open up a world of warmth of love in an avuncular manner which makes not only homosexual fans love him for the two-way entry for anal, but also for people whom lacked that fatherly figure when they were children; most notable of which include famous serial killers such as Paul O’Grady and Davina McCall.
To end of this lovely insightful blog – after a long week away – I thought I’d end with this: I always find things like this a bit of a coo; something to distract the public from the bigger picture; such as Gordon Browns’ encurbered physique and thighs.
The face.
When you see a face like the one above – a face that’s seen two world wars and one failed Indiana Jones movie – it makes your wonder what his tired, drained eyes have seen in his time, and what he’d hope to see in his final passing days.
Obviously considering his age (93), we can’t even begin to imagine the knowledge and exprience he’s gained over the years, especially after going through the blood and anguish of world war one and two. But what else has this poor old codger been through?
The usual look on his face – the look that says ‘hey, my names Fabio Capello, and despite what I’ve seen in my many days on Earth, despite what I’ve learned, nothing could prepare me for what I saw on February 28th, 1987 – both of my parents fornication in numerous positions (including ‘the crab’) – is the face of our beloved nation, England.
‘This look’ is a misleading look. It’s a stern, dominant stare which says ‘we don’t take shit’ – and if only the F.A would take into account this flaw with the face of our manager, and the state of border control thanks to the Labour party, we wouldn’t have this ‘flaw’, and therefor our great nation would not be misleading and when foreigners look to come to our country in hope for a nice British holiday (as seen on Walkers adverts) they wouldn’t be under the impression that England is a place where paki’s don’t exist, and their presence is unheard of.
In a sense, our nation is like Brenda and Audrey out of the Bounty kitchen roll adverts – from a young age, whilst growing up with these adverts, you come to begin a likeness for these kinds of women – a unhealthy likeness. A likeness which pretty much decide the rest of your life for you, with regards to moving to Thailand and fucking countless he-shes which eventually seals in stone, your life-time ticket to the sex offenders list.
Ah, sweet justice. Sweet random rants that don’t make sense.
Michelle McManus gets owned: #1
I was on Michelle McManus’s website last night (don’t ask me why), and I came across this:
“I’ve also co-written a song with the fabulous Scottish artist Horse Macdonald called ‘Safe’ which will feature on her forthcoming album.
I’ve been out and about performing at various venues up and down the country including the one and only CC Blooms in Edinburgh and the outrageous The Club in Stoke – what a night out that was!”,
- Michelle McManus.
Where do I begin with picking this washed up celeb to pieces? Let’s start with the song she’s co-written with some random drunken Scottish person, entitled ’safe’.
Why ‘o why would you do that to yourself Michelle? You must know by now you should never get involved in anything which could be linked to a joke about your weight, i.e any concealable thing which has ever existed.
Tell me, Michelle, how do I know my cheese burger is safe? How do I know that after all this time without seeing you in the newspaper, you wont just sneak up on me and take it?
No wait. I’m just being silly now – you could never sneak up on me – I’d feel the ground tremble beneath your encumbered, cellulite infested thighs.
Further more, how have you been ‘up and down the country’? That’s a bit of an absurd claim to make considering you get out of breath while having a shit or scratching your minge, don’t you think?
Love J.S. x
Moronic Monday: The US Debt Clock
G.W Bush: "We are in debt? O RLY?!".
What has 13 digits, weighs 2 tonnes and is made out of reinforced steel? Besides the scales used to measure Michelle McManus’s weight – the US debt clock.
‘Until last month, the clock had enough digits to measure US debt levels’, says BBC news.
Excuse me for asking – but I think it’s important someone did – how the fuck can you run out of numbers? Furthermore, when you are so badly in debt, why spend money replacing the existing clock with a new one with more digits? Sorry, I fail to see the logic in that, and I’m sure the majority of my readers do, too.
The United States of Americas’ logic is more flawed than a Asian without a corner shop.
Good night.
Ane Brun
Can’t be arsed to write anything tonight due to ‘troubles’ at home.
I leave you with a song that I listen to whenever feeling down, it’s truely beautiful:
Spielberg and George Lucas Rape Indiana Jones.
Yesterday, I was reading a wordpress blog about the new South Park episode, The China Problem, and being the Eric Cartman fanatic I am, I felt ablidged to read it.
Basically, the latest episode is about Steven Spielberg and George Lucas raping Indiana Jones. The author of the blog, whom previously stated that he’s a fan of the South Park series and it’s over the top jokes and humor, claimed that South Park ‘had pushed the boundaries of comedy’ and ‘had gone too far’.
How can someone be so hypercritical and find every South Park episode – which makes fun of far worse things than rape – and then claim that it’s ‘gone to far’. Wow, talk about moronic. People these days are so ignorant and bland; they go along with what they read in the media and then change their view in favor of the masses and popular opinion – quite pathetic really, especially when they try and pass off what they are saying as their opinion, and not that of someone else.
If you find something that is potentially offensive funny, don’t portray double standards and then claim that something else is not funny, and is crude – especially if that ’something’ is far less offensive and disgusting then previous things you’ve found funny.
latest episode, head over to: http://stansdad.com/
Ethiopian hip-hop ‘aint dead.
Readers, do you know what gets right on my A-cup tits’ apart from my moronic, idiotic readers? It’s that since my older sister has finished school, I’ve come to expect a certain standard of her ‘womanly duties’ which, recently, she’s started to become negligent. Yes, you’ve guessed it – the bitch is slacking!
Well, I say ’slacking’, yet that would have required her to slack from something she had previously done and – correct me if I’m wrong – I don’t think you can ’slack’ from doing shit all.
You see, my sister neglects me and spends all her time with her boyfriend, hours on end in her room, doing god-knows-what while I starve like a saddened Ethiopian child without a mud hut. I don’t know what they do, nor do I want to. I tell you, what ever it is they do, it better be more important than making me beans on fuckin’ toast like – oh I don’t know – the continuation of the human race – reproduction and ‘what not’.
Fuck sake, someone get me a bacon sarny.
Asians’ Allophilia
What is it with Asian people thinking they’re black? They are not. Just because they have black skin, doesn’t make them the good kind of black – it makes them more of the inferior types of chocolate such as hazel nut or Jewsulnut, opposed to the good kind: Chocolate Milk and Vanilla.
Of course what I’ve just said may be seen as Racist (that’s because it is) but I assure you it isn’t, and I’ll tell you why: It’s because I don’t agree with discrimination of one singular person, or even one race! Some people’s views on Blacks and Asians are very narrow minded; they think because both are of dark skinned heritage, that they are the same – They are not.
This view is quite like how people see Coke Zero and Diet Coke, in the sense that no one knows what the differences are between the two, and no one really cares either, they just prefer one over the other purely because they do.
OK, it isn’t exactly like that – but still, it’s fucking funny.
I don’t really prefer any race over another, nor do I dislike Asians or Jews (I really don’t), I just don’t like people trying to fit in with a culture that they don’t belong to – it’s sad and very embarassing. So, what have we learnt today? We’ve learnt that JS cares so much for his fellow man, he looks out for them by showing them where they went wrong and how they can fix their ‘wrong doings’ – by not acting in a way which would Allophilically embaress them. Also, if you even attempt to pick up on any contradiction in this blog you are a complete moron and shouldn’t even be reading a blog such as this when you are clearly not worthy.
Fifa ‘09 cyborgs
US mag GamePro reports:
“considerable gameplay improvements, the most significant of which sounds like “increased responsiveness” from passing, dribbling and the physical pushing and shoving that occurs in a game. Goalkeepers can reach behind their bodies if they misjudge a shot on goal.”.
For those who read any details regarding Fifa before release, you’d no doubt have read that EA were making vast improvements to the Computer AI, especially goalies. At first this sounded very exciting – Who wouldn’t want a more realistic version of Fifa? Everyone would.. Everyone but EA Sports that is.
You see, Fifa 09 is not realstic in regards to goalkeeping, and the claim that they are far more intelligent is an understatement. Fifa 09 goalies are more than just goalies, they are Cyborgs; they have IQ’s higher than that of god and have been trained by the SAS in not only the art of war, but also the art of ‘Bernard’s Watch’. Yes, not only do they posses the power to be complete annoying cocks, but also to stop time. It’s a bit like Neo off the Matrix; they have all the powers that Neo has (the most obvious: stopping time) as well as ones that Neo doesn’t posses: the ability of having a dress sense. Now I’m not taking the piss out of Neo’s attire, it’s just that Goalkeepers who look like they are squatting on the toilet whilst having a shit in shorts look better than his gay leathery trousers and coat. I mean come on, what was he thinking? To me, Neo gives off the ‘wrong vibes’ and it doesn’t exactly help with the theory of him ‘being so far in the closet, he’s practically in Narnia’.
I love you Fifa, I’m just not ‘in love’ with you.
Diatrition Courses
Peculiar title, right? It appears that amongst my abundance of readers, I have a small minority of those whom are of the ‘extra large’ variety – you know, 30% extra free and what have you – not that I’m complaining in any way, of course. After all, ‘every hole’s a goal, eh boys’? Well, that is, of course, if you discount John Terry who evidently didn’t actually know what a goal/hole was last season and has only recently found out; this was when he attended Frank Lampards’ mums funeral where he was given a great demonstration of what a hole was from C.Ronaldo who – as per usual – dived into the grave, head first.
For tonight, that is all.
I found the entrance to Hogwarts and I liked it!
No readers, don’t worry, I’m not going to talk about a half-arsed parody of ‘I kissed a girl’, by Katy Perry – the one person in the world who doesn’t actually know how to spell her own name and as a result of her chronic-dyslexia, chooses to attempt to make a career in the music industry, along side fellow ‘attempty’ and husband, Travis from Gym Class Heroes – no, instead I’m going to tell you about one of my many adventures at school..
Although, before I go on I’d just like to say this: it’s sad that someone can’t spell their own name, isn’t it? I mean yeah, I’m not super-rich but at least I can take pride in one thing (two things, actually): not being named after a Latin-American pornstar and spelling my own pissing name right. That said, she is a Contralto which – for those of you whom have never previously studied music – means she can scream in quite a delightful way whilst taking Travis’s black cock in her arse – which I’m not going to lie, I’m quite envious of (singing like an Angel that is, not taking black cock in places that not even Steve Irwin would go).
If you are colour blind, the picture above wont be relevant to you; for once in your life you’ll finally see something that is ‘normal’ and not flamboyantly gay like the trash your eyes are undoubtedly use to seeing in the media these days; for example: The Jonas Brothers. For those who have regular working eyes, however, (in other words: ‘for those whom haven’t had cum in their eyes from the day they left their fucked up mothers’ womb with the optical vision and variety of a naked-mole rat’) you’ll see something that – in a quite weird and unusual way – will astound you and maybe even move you. OK, well it won’t ‘move you’ (not that it could, you fat shits) but it certainly is beautiful considering where it is (on the Tennis Courts), isn’t it? Yes, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen come out of a random purpose built hole in the ground, in fact. Considering that my school built a new £3,000,000 building in the Summer, I did expect to come back from summer breack and be shocked by the educational improvements, and what more educational can you get than a random colorful hole in the ground? Well I suppose you could throw a few-dozen starving African kids into a pit and watch them fight over the last Penguin bar in the fridge to show the pupils at my school how unappreciative they are, and how good they’ve got it. Nah, that would be pointless considering that African AID has been doing that submilmly for the last 10 years via our TV sets. Thieving bastards. Although, to be fair, it isn’t as bad as that guide dog charity who have recently started advertising on Sky; they actually think that people are going to pay £1 (one pound!) a week to go to blind people when it’s quite clearly going to go one of two ways: 1) it’s going to benefit thousands of unfortunate blind people around the UK and help them to lead a better life. Or 2) The money won’t be invested into guide-dog training, and instead will be given straight to the blind people themselves who will no doubt misuse the funds given to them and splash out on audio audio tracks and purpus-bred dirty hobo’s to knock them off every now and then, or they will just cash it into 50 pence pieces and see how far the queen can last once inserted into their assholes. I’m with the 2nd option to be honest – not that I like hobos or want them to have a better life of course, it’s just that I’m an anti-royalist and would much rather give the Queen an exprience which is very similar to Jade Goody’s career.
On another note, does anyone else find it ironic how there’s a charity called African AID, or is that just me?
She knows, oh she knows.
Yes, sadly, it appears my sister has discovered my blog and as a result, has put me in somewhat of an arqukared position knowing that she can now embarrass me in two ways; the 1st being virtually: attacking me where it hurts with personal secrets via my blog or, secondly: storming in with a camera phone whilst I cover my man-hood with a stained tea cloth – not that I stained it, of course, unlike the twin towers, it was already there when I got there.
Fat people and buses!
I’m not the type of person to be nice to people just for the sake of it. People need to earn my respect. Although, when people are really nice to me, and have never done anything to piss me off in any way, I find it hard to just tell them to fuck off – I just put up with things they do. For example, sitting on a seat by me on the bus: You can’t exactly turn someone down can you? Not unless they’re a prick, or if you have a reason to dislike them. That’s just harsh and even myself – the cold hearted, good looking, devilish creature I am – couldn’t do it. However, when someone repeatedly annoys me, I find it hard to keep my mouth shut about it and I build up all this anger inside and let it out via a brilliant display of arrogance and wit, resulting in them feeling so little and so small, they wouldn’t even notice how fat they actually are.
That brings me to the subject I’ll be talking about today; fat people on buses.
There’s a boy that gets on my bus, quite a big fellow – a nice guy and everything – just really big. He isn’t the sort of person you can just have ago at without good enough reason to. And however much I try and bring myself to tell him where to go, telling him that ‘no you can’t sit there, there’s no room – you are too big!’, I can never do it; I can never build up the words to say to him – he’s just that nice.
Today I was thinking to my self ‘oh for fuck sake, does he have to sit there? He gets on 2 stops before school, surely he can stand like everyone else?’. It’s not like he has to sit down or anything – that would require energy – something that this boy just doesn’t have. He sits down on the seat in front of me and when he does – my god – I fucking know it. Even when I’ve fell asleep on the bus, I can still feel his presence. No, don’t get your hopes up, I’m not ‘one with the force’, I can just smell the greasy cheese burger fat that clings to his unwashed school clothes like a bad fart in an elevator, resulting in the attempt to blame your unwanted bottom-burp on small vulnerable child next to you going to pot.
I have a theory on fat people and global warming which I’d like to share: if there were no fat people, and everyone was at an acceptable weight, there would be less strain on the environment; people would eat less and the food that had previously been eaten by these selfish people could be given to people whom need it – Skinny people like myself, and Africa.
The word would be a much more better place if parents would just wake up and not allow their children to get to that weight, it’s horrible and actually makes me feel physically sick. They are a danger to the environment and a ‘eye saw’ to you and I.
If there’s one thing you do today, make sure it involes belittling a fat person to the extent that they just either kill themselves or lose weight. It’s that simple. The goverment doesn’t need education for healthly lifestyles, the gornvernment doesn’t need people like Jamie Oliver making money off fat people; hell, the overweight bastards don’t even need to spend money on a personal trainer to motivate them; the good hearted people like you and I need to do our bit for our community, and help save the life of a fatty. Do something meaningful today: Bully a fat kid.
My run
I went for a run today, aren’t you all proud of me? I went for a run, yes. However, no one thought it would be wise to tell me that I shouldn’t go at 8 o’clock in the evening when dark and on a full stomach after eating beans on toast roughly 30 minutes previously. Because of this, shortly after arriving home, I was violently sick in the toilet.
It appears that this time the jokes on me.
Being fat ‘isn’t all that bad’, apparntly.
A women who beat a rare flesh-eating disease says she survived the terrifying ordeal because she was “fat”. Clair Robinson, 23, is ‘lucky to be alive’, doctors say after operating on her for 3 days after she contracted a life-threatining bacteria which had begun to eat through the organs and tissue of her body. Cutting out the scientific bullshit: The bacteria got into her system when she contracted it while having a cyst removed out of one of her overies. Once inside, the bacteria began eating it’s way through her body, focusing mainly on her stomach (no suprise there), until she began to feel aches in her stomach. If she was lighter, she would have died. The only reason she survied was because once the life-threatening bacteria was inside her, it was all like ‘fuck this man, I’m getting out of here. This bitch is way to fat for us to eat through!’, resulting in her living to ‘eat another day’.
Why it sucks to be skinny: Volume 1.
This will be the start of a weekly number of blogs where I will state one unfortunate thing that I’ve exprienced in every day life which has been a result of being skinny.
When you step onto a pressure pad to open an electric door in a shoping center, the door just laughs at you and explains Einsteins’ theory of relativty which bassically means ‘you aren’t getting through this door unless you gain some weight, Slim Jim’.
Why being single isn’t that bad.
It seems quite unusual the way a sexy, successful, young conservative like myself writes blogs. ‘Surely he has better things to do’, I hear you all cry. The sad truth is, I don’t. If you haven’t guessed already, I’m single. Yes, I fit into the small minority of teenagers who are single (I know what you were thinking then when I said ‘minority’ – you thought this was going to be another racist attack towards Asians, didn’t you? Well it appears that unlike my readers, I’ve grown up and no longer resort to unmannered attacks towards our smelly, poor brothers).
Here’s a list of why I’m glad I’m single:
#1) Buying contraception every couple weeks isn’t a problem; I have a infinite amount of socks that do myself and my hand just fine.
#2) Every time I switch on the TV and see Jamie-Lynn spears, I can thank god that I’m not cruel enough to not only risk my penis because of sexual-infections, but also bringing a child into this world with no actual desire to raise it, but just to exploit it with attention seeking via half-arsed magazines.
#3) I don’t need to preform sexual acts for a partner. No, instead I can sit at home and masturbate – at my own pace – without the need to take into account if I’m being rough or not. This is quite evident that I’m not exactly gentle considering before the age of 11, I had a white, healthy penis with a bright future, and now instead I come home at night to beat off something that resembles a very long and thin mushroom that’s been dipped in tar – My penis is black and blue. And ladies, he loves you.
#4) Because the male anatomy is much less complicated than that of the fairer sex, I don’t need to spend countless hours on my partner, trying to figure out the exact frequency of pleasure for her clitoris. Instead, all I have to do is whack on a bit of hand wash, maybe a sock, and enjoy what ever is on Channel 4 (most nights it’s the Friday night project with Justin Lee Collins, which is quite worrying).
#5) I don’t have to worry about some skebby cow not washing her hands after pleasing me, which could potentially result in there being lil’ JS’ running around without me getting past 3rd base.
#6) Going to the cinema on Orange Wednesdays isn’t a trouble; I don’t have to give up a reasonably nice seat to some undeserving whore who may or may not let my fondle her breast – if it was a dead cert that I would be allowed to maybe bing-bong her, I would, but it isn’t. And I just can’t take that risk. No, instead I can use the extra spare seat for something much more important; peace of mind: knowing that my but cheeks don’t come anywhere near that secondary seat – as a result, I’m not fat for another day!
#7) Hanging around with her and her mates. I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending 5 hours in one store looking around when non of them even buy anything – I’d actually rather pay a young Tie boy to suck me off that spend a whole day of bordem with the slight chance that at the end of it all, she may slip her nips out in a photo and send to me that following day. Once again, readers, I cannot take that risk.
#8) Not having to tell her that she isn’t fat (when she clearly is) and having her reply – when in a bad mood – ‘in comparison to you, I am’.
#9) Embarrassing sex – If she ever felt selfless, and thought she’d give it a go on top, I’d be put in an uncomfortable position where she’d not only think that she was fat because of crushing my skinny body, but most likely also dump me as I would no longer be able to satisfy her, due to being either dead, or in a coma.
#10) Getting bored – I find it so hard to put up with women for longer than around 3 months – at which point I either distance myself from them, or tell them straight up that they are annoying – it’s like adopting a new puppy, once something new comes along – like a car for instance – it’s right out of the window.
You smoking, cunts.
According to new research, Tobacco could potentially kill one billion people by the end of the current century if nothing is done to prevent it – that’s more than 3 times the population of America. When will people wake up and realize that there is no point in smoking? It isn’t even nice to do, and it’s disgusting to be around – so why do it? You may as well just go out of your house now, go to the shopping center, buy a knife, and kill yourself with it. That is, of course, only if you would like to do the world a favor, although knowing you smokers – the selfish bastards you are – that isn’t exactly something that would be realistic to ask of you, would it?
When I read that it may kill one billion people, I was actually shocked and I couldn’t believe that people make money off killing people. It’s fucking inhumane. Furthermore, what pisses me off is that our taxes have to pay for peoples’ treatment when they eventually get cancer from smoking, and then that money is wasted anyways because most of these people have no future at all, so why bother? They are only going to continue smoking anyways, especially if they are old because they have nothing to lose, anyways. Well hey, isn’t that fair, oldies? If everyone took that view – that they had nothing to lose – then I can honestly say: I don’t think that there would be any virgin Japanese girls in existence – I’m not even joking, that’s how it is.
Harry Potter can morph into a tampon?
Is it me, or do the Harry Potter films get more and more violent over time? With a name like the ‘half blood prince’, I’m going to assume – without ever reading anything about the plot and making an assumption based on the recent trends in the Harry Potter movies – that Harry, in this next installment, is going to obtain the power to morph into a giant tampon, and take on Hermiones’ pussy in an epic battle of wit and spit.
Wow, someone quote on me on this blog and send it to the advertisement team for the Harry Potter movies, they’ll make a fair amount of dollar with me writing prologues like that.
For tonight, that is all.
