Winter's finally here & You're still a cunt

Tajikistan.


Here's a country I picked at random that I figured not many people know about. I intend to keep it that way.






90% of the country is covered in mountains.
The other 10% is a pile of shite.

Here's a picture of all the citizens of their largest town. That's the mayor on the left and on the right is one the lads.
The mayor lost his right eye in a tragic winking contest. He hit his head off a wall and forgot how to open his eyelid.






This fella here is the president of Tajikistan. He also sells dry fruit. For the craic.

Their main income is alluminium and cotton.
Their predominant export is ignorance, hence my blog.




Now back to the rest of the world. Reality.


Headphone wires or Ear handles?
You decide.



Next time you look at someone (better from behind) with earphones in, imagine pulling away their ears with the wire stands.




Live Aid.

The idea: To raise funds for relief of the Ethiopian famine by holding massive concerts and such.
In this fundraiser, they informed the Ethiopians about the celebration of Christmas.





I have a similar plan. It shall be known as Live Hate.



The Idea: First, we'll raise funds to hold massive concerts in the most poverty stricken countries around the world.
It's primary idea is for awareness, specifically about Christmas. It will be for the new generations who weren't around for the event in the 80s. All those starving children deserve to know that the rest of the world are enjoying themselves; wasting their money on stupid stuff that they don't need or possibly even want and are all gorging themselves on massive dinners. It's only fair that they know the truth. According to the bible, it'll set you free.

Any ideas for a slogan?

Teletubbies

*Since nearly a third of my readers aren't from Ireland, and not every one of those Irish people are from the North-west; I'll put a phrase reference at the bottom so you can all be educated.*

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQMKZxX-Tyo
This episode is about a naughty snake.

Once you get passed the intro, some serious shit goes down. The windmill starts goin' 90* and Tinky Winky gets the reception and the pleasure of hosting some quality t.v.

Low and behold, this wan*: "The funny lady" appears. I fail to gather the encouragement towards homosexuality in this show when there's a vixen like this one emphasising everything that you'd hear in any good adult videos.
Such as;

"Would you like to help me do the dusting?"

~ which can be heard on many tele-shopping ads. Nothing more heterosexual than references to household tasks. She also loves cock.

Po acts like a right cunt* in the second part: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YdeT6dRIlzA
When she finishes goose-stepping around the house, we're informed further, as to how naughty she really is.

"Sometimes Po is so naughty, she goes up and down too many times."

If you can find a way to go up a slide without taking a run-up, you are some legend.

"Sometimes Po is so naughty, she goes in and out too many times."

Right, the slide and the march was grand. Even Noo-noo didn't mind. But she has to go over and fuck with the door. I don't know about you, but I think she was asking for a good back of the hand. Noo-noo is no man for the naughtiness. He might be a bit of a dry shite* from time to time, but sure, there you are. He doesn't even end up doing anything in the end.

It's very likely that Po did this in spite of Noo-noo. I heard from Curly-Wurly, the lesser known teletubby, that Noo-noo used to have a drinking problem and was ragin'* 'cause all the others were mad fry bags* and only watched t.v, and used to eat all of his tubby rashers when he was passed out. So he went out and tried to suck the ring off Po, but she caught him and there was crazy slaps being dished out*. She hasn't been the same since.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_cUJsMgAVV8

This is an episode where some chickens gets fed. Hard hitting stuff.
Now, these lads aren't the regular run of the mill young fellas. James, Matthew and the baby brother; they feed the chickens everyday. And they like doing it. Never have truer words been spoken.

The young fella in the green, as you can see, is going to feed two mad boyos in the pen, but he's aware of what's happening and gets the fuck out of there before shit goes down. Sometimes the country can be more dangerous than a rusty knife....holding a knife.

We're led to believe this youngster isn't the type for trouble making, but he goes ahead and throws some feed at the cameraman afterwards, like the cheeky faced boyo he is.

O.k. So what have we learned?
1. Never trust a young fella.
2. Not sure. Lets watch it again.

Sadly, the other parts aren't uploaded, but I'll run you through it.

They watch the entire vid again, as you can see. They reflect on what they saw. For about 2seconds. Then they fuck off and eat some tubby custard and toast.



*
"This wan" - This one(person)
"Goin' 90" ~ Going 90miles per hour : to go crazy or to become energetic, very fast.
"A right cunt" ~ "right"/proper is used as an adjective to emphasise how much of a cunt you are (very much so).
"Dry shite" ~ Downer. A miserable person who sucks the life out of everything.
"Ragin'" - Raging: to be angry or upset.
"Fry bag" ~ A stoner (to be fried is to be high).
"Crazy slaps being dished out" ~ To dish out a slap is to punch/hit someone repeatedly or beat them up.

So now after reading this, you should be able to easily understand someone if they tell you the following:

"This wan was bein' a right aul' cunt to this fry bag, bein' a proper dry shite, so some other fella came over and went 90 on him, dishin' out some serious slaps. I'd be so ragin' if I was him".

Credits to John Dobson for the picture.

Grá? (Love?)

Violets are purenz bloo,
Nd Roses, dey are like reli red,
Lol itz nawt valetimes, but sure,
Can i still get head?

A man came onto a bus wearing his pyjama's.
It was perfectly acceptable. He got off at his preferred destination and went on with his life.

Girls like a chase. They don't like getting raped in a forest though.
Make up your minds! Always starting, never finishing.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albert_Fish


Here's a man who cut the bullshit. I suggest you educate yourself on the man.

Here's a quote out of a letter he sent to a young girl's mother;

"I choked her to death, then cut her in small pieces so I could take my meat to my rooms. Cook and eat it. How sweet and tender her little ass was roasted in the oven. It took me 9 days to eat her entire body. I did not fuck her tho [sic] I could of had I wished. She died a virgin."

How comforted she must have felt to know he didn't rape her.

The moral of the story is. Be a bit more direct towards men, and maybe, just maybe, you wont get tortured, raped and eaten.

He also liked boys. Here's a lesson in cooking:

"I made a stew out of his ears – nose – pieces of his face and belly. I put onions, carrots, turnips, celery, salt and pepper. It was good. Then I split the cheeks of his behind open, cut off his monkey and pee wees and washed them first. I put strips of bacon on each cheek of his behind and put them in the oven."

His nickname as a child was "Ham and Eggs".

Moving on.


Joseph Fritzl. D.I.Y King.

There's a man who can build.
I can just about put up a level shelf. He built a dungeon under his house in under 2years.

Don't let the bags under the eyes fool you. He stores wall filler in there.

Think what you will about the man, but look at that.













He should have been sentenced to a lifetime of building extensions.


To surmise this blog; Love is a strange thing. If you don't want someones love, remember to give it back. Then run for the hills.

My Thirst

Why is there an apple
Inside my bag?
But wait!
It's a peach.
I placed it there this morning.
With haste,
But not waste,
I placed it in my mouth.

The taste,
It erased,
The flavour coming first,
My thirst.

F is the most sensitive button on my keyboard

So I apologise if I'm tempted to swear frequently. Of such matters as foreigners, France, french foreigners and fornication.

That person in the distance. One moment they're someone you've known all your life.
The next, they're just an acquaintance.
Now you're face to face. You've never seen them in your life.

Autumn is a more poignant time for night. Nature nears death, but seems to be more conspicuous.
It's similar to someone who just had their torso torn open and their intestines are spilling everywhere. Maybe a bit more sentimental. I suppose you could throw some ribbons around their lungs and liver. Liven up the image a bit.

Walking through an imbroglio of snails. Landmines below my feet. A loss of a life every time. Unintentional.
"There's too many of them anyways".
I bet you would justify yourself with that too, you Nazi bastard.


This is a reading from the letter of St. Paul to the Romans;

Wel bois, wat yeh up tah? pure bord ere lol

wb

---------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, I'm Jessica.
I am a stewardess. Days working like crazy and nights Alone in a Hotel room
I would like to meet someone for intimate encounters.

This week, I will be in different cities of US... New York, Sligo, Los Angeles, Miami ...

I also travel to: UK & Canada next month

I am looking for an ongoing sexual relationship only with No Engagement!!!!

All the big cities of the U.S, and now Sligo. Why?!
But it does sound very promising.


Some nights when I'm out,
I wonder.
Which pint glass did I leave my standards at the bottom of?

I also wonder. Could I jump down the full flight of stairs and crawl to the urinal quicker than stumbling down each step, avoiding sick and crying girls.

The answer to all these questions is bound to be at the bottom of another glass.



So smash it off a table and jam it into your neck, you mess.














U tawk funi wit ur wurdz :S

1 New Message

Hi, I'm Michael Finn, and I'd like to sodomise your mum.

I wrote a rant about big brother that's too long for a status, so fancy publishing it on your blog? Cheers.

Is actually pissed off with Channel 4's decision to have a fucking ''Ultimate Big Brother'''! Aimed towards the fucking retards that don't even know what 'Big Brother' is supposed to mean, but somehow feel a connection with the attention whores clustered into a house together! I thought Channel 4 had standards, but they seem to lack imagination, and want to give twats fame for no specific reason, or airspace to an Asian poof, that has a thing for saggy women.You could tell me not to watch it, but if it's not the 12 hours of airspace it takes up, it's gonna be another shitfest like X Factor, just on time to have a bollocks cover song (which every chav will realise he/she loves, and will play it on their phones, ignorant to the fact that it's a cover) with a key change at the end and a montage of the 'X Factor journey' in a radio friendly, Christmas music video! But we must feel sympathy for their sob stories, as having a dead mum or a recovering drug problem makes you, somehow, a good singer.

In conclusion, it took Jade Goody three Big Brothers to get evicted from life, hope the trend continues, :).

There you go, you shite monger. I'm not making a habit of posting peoples rants. So if you want a piece of my exposure, you can fuck right off.
Double plus good!

Shattered

August has been a scattered month. Whataya gonna do?!

If your body is a temple, then mine is a slum.

Thinking you've eaten all your toast and turning around to find a corner of toast sitting on the arm-rest. That is quite enjoyable.

Getting mistaken for another cat by a... yeh... because you have rattling coins in your pocket is awful daft. Every time you look behind you, there it is, looking around as if you didn't know.
Sure don't we all.

My raggedy ass clothes have exposed me once again.

I may be unhealthy, but I certainly don't look it!

Look at you. Driving your own extensions of your greed.

The big problem with thinking too fast is that you can't keep at the same pace speaking, so you slur your words. Your brain will go at such a speed that it'll trip over your mouth, leaving you with an overbite. That pretty much hinders you even further. Maybe even your forehead will melt over your face in a fury of linguistic improbabilities.
Typing is a different story. I've never tripped over my own fingers. I suppose I could grab my feet and hop down the stairs.
That's likely to happen in a world where my mind moves slower than my digestive system.
Or in a house where I'm given free alcohol.

Gladly appreciated if you could oblige me to that.

As I've said before, I love making paragraphs. It keeps me happy, and it stops your attention from fading. I start losing the point and you~

Jump ahead. Wonderful!

Tick. Tock.
Tick. Tock.
Every tick.
Every tock.
One more second.
One more second awake.
Time passes,
And you wait.
Every second,
And you hear it.
"Lets count time together"; Says the clock.
"Lets hide you from the night"; Says the lock.
Inside, and behind your door.
Start drinking coffee, 'cause you'll sleep no more.
The tick and the tock from every little clock.
The watch keeping rhyme,
Keeping you awake all the time.
In a time where patience and rest comes to play,
Ticking in the night. The world sleeps until day.

What time did you go to sleep?
I don't know. I was meant to check the time as soon as I fell asleep.

For something interesting: http://uk.news.yahoo.com/5/20100824/tod-the-pizza-burger-a-2-500-calorie-fat-870a197.html

Get it into yeh!

fhjkhulj

Aint Nathin' Purtier than coffee stained mug.
The Stain is in the shape of Majorca.

I think it's a sign.

A sign that you're a bollocks.

If you fail to draw sense from that statement, it's likely that you fail at other things too.


You're awful silly.

I feel slightly braindamaged at the moment, so it may take several days to proof read this. If you're as dozy as me(you're more than likely worse), I'll prob have it sorted by the time you get around to reading this.
I've decided to eat more. And to do the majority of it before bed. It's good craic. The disgust of passers-by to find a sleeping fat prick with a pizza slice on his face...wonderful.
I don't think I'll be able to combat the gain of weight. I'll probably just do a few jumping jacks and wear bigger clothes so it feels like I'm becoming incredibly skinny.

Ah I couldn't even be arsed anymore. Enjoy your shallow lives.

The Glass Is Half Ignorant

I was topping and tailing berries. Sorting them from one bucket to another in which will go towards making jam. They both came to roughly half way, and I thought, as I was mumbling and moaning as per usual; Am I an optimist or a pessimist?
I noticed in one bucket, which was slightly more than half way up (half full), there was a little spider crawling over the berries. How happy he must have been. All the food he could ever desire surrounding him. Such a nice thought. Every thing's surely looking up for him. He picked the half full bucket and he's sorted.
So I thought from then. I too should be optimistic. In doing so, I will prosper in this world. Happy as can be. So I'm changing my style of writing and my outlook on the world.

Thanks Mr.Spider. I really owe you one :)
This has brought me to a great conclusion.









If you call me a pessimist, I'll boil you in jam.

Fuck off.

Shawty

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDAaevTq51I

Shawty had them Apple Bottom Jeans
Boots with the fur
The whole club was lookin at her
She hit the flo
Next thing you know Shawty got low low low low low low low low self esteem because she was portrayed as a conformist to common ideals.
She also had a rash.

I assume the "flo" is the floor. If not, it's possible that he means "the flow".

This could mean either of the following:

Flo Rida: Since he made the chorus, T-Pain may be talking about him. She must have drank too much and hit him. His sexist lyrics might have been a catalyst to him getting his ass handed to him by Shawty.

Flow: She was in her element. She was in the groove. Although if she then became low, then she must have lost it.

Gas Flow: She may have hit a pipeline and due to the resulting fire, she lowered herself to the ground in the hopes that she could crawl out of the scene without harm.

http://www.eflow.ie/ : She managed to hit a tolling barrier because she was distracted by the whole club lookin' at hurrr. This brings me back to her low self-esteem and additional paranoia which caused her carelessness.

T-Pain and I are both in amazement as a result of Shawty's actions.

I ain't never seen nuthin that'll make me go,
this crazy all night spendin my dough
Had a million dollar vibe and a bottle to go
Dem birthday cakes, they stole the show

Poor fucker. He spent all of his dough. I told him to hold on to some of it for later. Now he's hungry and I'm not sure what's going on with the birthday cake, but when baked goods steal your possessions, you know there's something wrong.

So sexual, she was flexible
Professional, drinkin X and ooo
Hold up wait a minute, do I see what I think I
Whoa

Once I thought I thaw a putty tat. But it's very probable that I saw what I think I whoa.

Did I think I seen shorty get low
Ain't the same when it's up that close

T-Pain has discovered perspective. He did in fact see shorty get low as he walked away, but when he came closer, shorty became bigger. See the mouse and the house.

I was on it, sexy woman, let me shownin They be want it two in the mornin

They be wantin' lern2English.

The Lonely Jehovah's Witness

He might be a Mormon. Bottom line. He's alone.
Maybe his partner went a separate way. Maybe around your backdoor. Just for the lulz, so he can rear end you with a thrust of the good book.
I got a free Book Of Mormon off two fetching lads before. There's pictures an' all in it. Makes it possible for me to say I've looked through the book and not sound pretentious for not actually having read through the book.
My interactions with religion is....

I wore a Cannibal Corpse t-shirt to mass before, back in the old days of going there.

Something of a similar quality. For those who are unfamiliar with their works.
Me, being ignorant, I didn't notice what people made of me. Let them make what they wish. It wont come true.

Commented on a song of theirs was this:

"I beat my wife to this song..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nh0iMxBFyWM

Here's a song off the featured album.

Naturally my blog is of your entertainment value, not mine. Despite you being a sad joke for me. You don't have to listen to every link I post. But I used to get a kick out of this before I eventually liked it. It'll happen to you too if you give it a chance. Of course you wont. You sad fuck.

Anyway. Three days have passed since I wrote the first paragraph. Turns out they were a charity group. I was the ignorant one, and then I drank loads of tea and wasn't too bothered.
Although they might still be ignorant themselves.

More than likely, yes.

You guys don't know what you're missing. You could be missing sleep. Grey skin is much better than any tan. Unless you're tanned by the glare of your manky computer. There's too many germs. Everywhere. Don't sleep. They'll get you.
You open a door. Germs on your hand. you scratch your head. Germs on your head. You shake someones hand. Everyone gets germs.
Wash your hands. Clean. Turn off the tap. Germs back on from before. Germs on door and key.

Yeh. Night night.

Prime

I am in the prime of my life. As are you (assuming you're my typical reader ~ If not. Leave me a comment, and prove that even you, yourself believes that you're not in the prime of your life).
Youth. Wonderful. When it's gone, we'll spend our days lying to ourselves, saying how great it was.
Look at me. I'm lying on my bed(mattress on the floor), typing above an atmosphere of my own sweat vapour, too lazy to get up and turn the light off so I'm desperately hoping that someone else will get up with a cross face, turning off the light and ordering me to sleep.
You never sleep as well as when you're ordered too. Makes you feel like a Magdalene Sister. Lie on your back and cross your heart.
I'm no fan of dust mites. That's why I keep a messy bed. It reduces their efficiency and thus lowers the chances of me waking up speaking German.

Back to the point. This is probably one of the healthiest and most hopeful points in my life. Maybe yours too. Except I'm better than you. Even if you're really athletic and useful. I've just got it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDQpZT3GhDg


I don't mean to boast. But I do.
It's hard to moan about something when you've got that swing. I'll have to wait 'til the song ends before I can bitch.

KEEP YOUR DOG ON A LEASH!
People don't put leashes on dogs anymore. Backwards world. It's far too warm under this laptop. There's a layer of sweat holding me to my t-shirt. And there you go. My shirt has now taken me off. You could probably masturbate to my blogs in the future. I'll give you detail of every centimetre I scratch of my arse.

You people never sleep. If you're familiar with night-time t.v, you'll more than likely have an AB-KING PRO in your house.
Chances are you'd be able to sell them yourself in over 15languages from one nights viewing.
The word Fantishcika is what convinced me. Although I doubted I could get solid abs in such a short space of time. All hope was almost lost. But they insured me that it was unlike those other money-wasting gimmicks. I certainly didn't want to look like that grumpy woman who didn't like abdominal workouts.
If you buy one of these things, you'll be Gauranteeash Ultaszh Resultaszh! Definitely.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1bUdmJY7Ew

Usually I watch it in German or Swedish, but I'm sure it'll be equally as convincing for you.
I keep it next to all my JML time savers.



Skibbidabebop that Lindy Hop!

A Perfectly Terrible World

*Read this incredibly fast. If possible. Drink several cups of coffee beforehand.(Seriously) Otherwise you may not get into the full swing of this.


I can dream...

If people weren't ejaculating joy everywhere. Instead of nightclubs, people went to large coffee houses. Not cafes. Coffee is as cheap as the conversation. Everyone packed into these like sardines. Scalding each other with Child Labours finest blend.
Their collective breath becomes intolerable, and people become intoxicated by lack of oxygen.
Falling on the floor, prey to spillage. Defenseless, they wrap themselves in tea bags. Dreaming of better times.
All the while, the people on the top, holding the mugs or tiny latte cups, are twitching into each other like bees attacking hornets. Warming the weaker of them to the point where they explode.
The remains are tripping over the previously thought prey. Now, ticking time bombs. The spilled caffeine has soaked into their skin. They emerge in a frenzy. The only music they hear is the screams of the others who are all having seizures.
Smashing mugs. Plates.
Dark chocolate biscuits. Filling the air. No-one.

No-one stood a chance!

Isn't that right, Mr.Irish-Tea!
Thinking it was milky coffee. The smell masked by others. Rich tea biscuits and all. Jameson hidden in his left pocket. His right. Tea bags.
The bastard.
He projectile vomits a watery-biscuit-like substance towards the crowd.
The defenseless cafe creatures wail in dismay. No match for the alcohol and tea man, they flee. Out the door. At once. They soon find crammed in the tiny doors. The surrounding shelves breaking. Explosions of leaflets and posters of French movies.

All the de-caf people in the background weeping. Espresso people are dancing on top of the weakened coffee drinkers.

A perfect little world where no-one likes eachother and everyone's really fucked off something. I forgot what I was on about. Fuck it.

You've wasted more time reading this. You'll read my next shit blog too. You pathetic bollocks.

Nature's Bitch

That's you.

You never stood a chance.

You think you can fuck with nature. Building damns, on the side of volcanoes, working in straight lines.
Trees going in all directions, standing taller than all of you. You, perpendicular to the ground. Building sky scrapers 'cause you have a tiny penis.

What does 60 seconds mean to a tree or a mountain?
You panicking to get the bus, out of your own creation. And you missed it.
By 10seconds.

50 million years for the himalayas. And you're worrying about wasting 2seconds to scratch your arse.

People carrying watches, thinking they're in control of time. You can't stop though. BAM!




You can twist the world, but don't forget. Nature has you by the balls.

Rule the skies now? You don't see birds exploding all by themselves.

Where's the black box on them? Engine failure.
The bird got tired. Or shot.

Nature will get you back.

There's only so much a man can write in a day

Luckily, I'm a type of God so there's no need to group me in there. Although I'll accept the title if it's all that's going.

The French worry me. They express love in a way that...is not. For our cynical minds to comprehend, I'll use a metaphor.

Yoghurt. I like it. Although I often see it there, I do not always eat it. I haven't had any in time longer than I can remember.

Doner Kebabs. I crave them. I'll break into sweats just thinking of them. No matter where I am, I soon find the rush of hunger. A craving. I need it, something. Just one more. Even if it's destroying me.

The yoghurt represents someone who you unconditionally love. Maybe a family member or a best friend. Nothing weird. Just a feeling of appreciation.
The kebab is love.

Now. Put the yoghurt into the kebab bread.

I think you'll find that's where the term "Inbred" derives. Thanks France. You've given us much enjoyment. Now let us please continue to be uptight about our sexuality and never get any action.

If this makes sense in the morning, it means I'm drunk.











Your life.

End it.

There's a world outside the home.

The morning. Everyone rises with The Sun, ripening their eyes, bursting the fruit of sight.

Noon. The time of the day where you're nearly awake, still wishing you were back in bed.

Afternoon. You finally except your bed is miles away. With a jump of relief you ejaculate out of the building and search for food.

Evening. The Sun is squinting and is sick of looking at you. The lights turn on, the surroundings never got a chance to darken. People flee indoors. The world disappears and a smaller one forms withing your house. A world with its own food source in a fridge. No need to hunt down berries, bulls or children. You have ham and bread. You are sorted. Tea pots exploding with gallon's of tea.

Night. The world has decided that you are a bollocks. The street lights snare at you as you walk from them to home, if you had not left at evening.

Post Midnight. You are blank minded and can do nothing to stop drooling. Yawns will lash out on you.

The other thing. You're not so great. Eh. I am? Or...Hmm. I was trying to say something. But. Well. Y'know. Have I? Maybe I should go to bed. No-one in existence is awake. Cities die and even Australia and Africa are sleeping. You are on your own and procrastinating. You only realise this after an hour of watching LOLCats. You fool.

Bed. You're there. When did that happen? You're asleep. You never seen it coming. All you know is that you are. Well. Not currently. But you'll know when you awake.

Awake. Birds. Alarm. Asleep.

Awake 2. I'll get up now so.

Awake 3. I didn't know I turned off my alarm.

Dinner/Breakfast. It's very early.

2 minutes later. Night.

I didnt even see The Sun today. Maybe 'cause it's not...
If I wake in the night I tend not to.

The Sun comes. It goes. Lights replace it. You block out your own lights with curtains.
Hello again.

Long story short. You're a prick.

Paki Pigeon Prosecuted

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/18/20100528/tod-pigeon-held-in-india-on-suspicion-of-451ab4f.html
Pigeon held in India on suspicion of spying

This one takes the biscuit. 'Cause that's what pigeons tend to do if you leave them out.
"Officials have directed that no-one should be allowed to visit the pigeon". But he gets one phone call.



http://uk.news.yahoo.com/18/20100603/tod-world-s-ugliest-dog-dies-at17-f62056d.html
World's ugliest dog dies

Poor fucker. Susan Boyle now holds the position of the ugliest dog.

"Come here boys!"


It has occurred to me that in my position of power, having such a large following of readers, exceeding 10 people, I should use my voice(metaphorically) to bring attention to a greater cause, other than to just amuse you.
So I'm bringing further attention to myself.

Hello everybody! It's me! You should amuse me now. If you're attractive(my decision, not yours), please give me your phone number and your underwear. If you're not, but are capable of making me a sandwich, please do so.
(If you meet both of these criteria, it is important that you know that I am currently single)

Such a lovely day

Yay :)

I hate it.

Let us all now have a moment of silence. So I can scream at you.

Kellog's Squares. The marshmellow bars. They're not squares at all! They're not even rectangles. Silly heads. It's a cuboid to be fair. But how many people want to eat marshmellow cuboids?

A recent survey was carried out amongst a group of Simon Cowell fans. The study concluded that they were all thick.

People are moving things around, and I don't like it one bit. Not at all. Leave them as they are. It's fine.

Here's a play I wrote just now as I'm typing:

You: I'm a prick
Me: I know.
[End of scene. I walk away happy, you kill yourself]



Wasn't that lovely? Fuck off.

The Sims.

A game where you perform tasks that you usually would do in real life, only you have to buy the game and wait for a loading screen. All the characters have speech impediments too.

Just like in real life!
While on the subject.

A child in South Korea starved to death because its parents were too busy raising a virtual baby online:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8551122.stm

Foolish humans! Can you even comprehend how crazy that is?! They spent 12 hours in an internet cafe. They could have easily bought the game and saved a bomb. You don't have to leave the home to neglect your children!

I'm perfectly aware that my blogs have shortened. Not because I'm running out of ideas. It's 'cause your attention span is getting worse. So it's your fault. Wise up!

Yawn.

I only seem to be able to write blogs when I'm tired. Not sure why. Puts me in the mood I suppose. Fuck yeh. All my readers are the people motivating me to write more, i.e. stay up late, which damages my health you know? So does everthing else that's good. Like coffee and eating glass.

Fuck. I got nothin'. Ha. Suck it.

Too tired.

I'd hate to be you. Getting your hopes up for another classic blog. And it turns out to be shit.
You must feel like a reader of Callous And Seabird.

Failure

Don't you have to be an artist before you can have artist's block?
Half the writers I've stumbled across(1) in the past minute claimed to have writers block, despite never actually writing anything prior to the statement. Such a fuckin' human.

This blog is about you.

I'm finished this blog already. And guess what? It's still longer than your poxy blog.

Drown :)

Tweet Tweet

I seen a Christmas mug with various animals on it. All smiling.
Except the bird. Does this mean that birds are incapable of happiness, or at least expressing it?
O.k. So you might say, birds can't smile, as they have beaks.
Shut your mouth. Have you ever seen a reindeer or a polar bear smile? I rest my case....
On your fuckin' head.

One of those questions in the world. Why is it that my computer tells me that it'll only take 10seconds to move these files into another folder.....and it continues to tell me so for several minutes, until it finally changes its mind and tells me that I'm gonna be sitting here until tomorrow to see the change happen.
Windows should change their notices to tell you to make a cuppa tea and read a book.

A program on facebook predicted my future:
"Conchúir dear, share your emotions with others and find out what they would do if they were you. You don't have to seek the comfort of someone who knows you well. Sometimes, the less someone knows about you the safer he or she can make you feel."

Golly. That is a bright future. Is it advice or a prediction? Maybe it's a prediction of advice I'm gonna take. Presumably from this application that is probably on thousands of ignorant fuckers pages. It's right though. I should share my emotions to people I don't know. Why should I be miserable while they're not? Here ya go. Now fuck off and cry yourself to the point where your cheeks turn to blister and the bags under your eyes from sleep loss become turgid* and chapped.

*Turgid - Full of water.
I feel I should put a word index at the end since not everyone reads the dictionary on a Friday night eating crossaints and pomegranite while writing blogs through their nose, and I feel it'd be arrogant of me to assume everyone knows what it is.
If you already knew the word. Happy days. If not, now you do, so read this again and join the group of people who know and are set for happy days.

Here's another one: ''Conchúir sweetheart, to show courage and loyalty is a sure way to get your admirer's attention now that things have become clearer.''

I'm not afraid to put my hands down your pants, and you can trust me not to do it to any other girl. Now you surely want to tell me your true feelings since I've got your attention and cleared everything up in doing so.
Note how it says that it's your admirer. If this person was already admiring you, why would you need to get their attention? Foolish.

And in the news: Cardinal Sean Brady has refused to leave his position following his handling of child abuse claims.

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/21/20100518/tuk-survivors-slam-cardinal-staying-on-e1cd776.html



To be fair. If I had a chair like that, I wouldn't be leaving either.


That's me finished for now.

Just Hold It, Don't Ask Questions

This is about taking it like a bitch. You do it everyday. Accept it.

I went to the shop yesterday to get some milk. Blankly droning towards the counter to find this girl smiling at me. How dare she?!
I know. It gets worse too.
She meant it. I could tell. I seen it in her eyes. It was obvious. She was happy.
I instantly became nervous. I could feel my heart speeding up and my breaths became gasps. My hairs stood on end, and then.
Then she handed me the change and she did it again. Has she no shame?!

I was raised to believe that only Protestants and Paedofiles were allowed to be happy. Now this. I instantly entered a state of shock, walking away. I felt a little bit happy too.
It sickened me. I snailed home, trailing behind this blonde woman who gave me the look like I was gonna attack her. I was holding 2litres of pasturised/homogenised glory. I was the least threatening thing in the world next to the Dahli Llama and Malta.

I reminded myself that this is an unforgiving world and cried myself to sleep.

Tears of mild happiness is all I could muster! Damn you!
I read the bible to further my thoughts.

And there came out a fire from the LORD, and consumed the two hundred and fifty men that offered incense.--Num.16:35

Take that! Bam! That's what you get for being thoughtful and considerate. A smiting.
Where was the smiting yesterday, when I needed it the most?

If I ever become emporer of the world, I'm putting a fuckin' tax on happiness.

Suck it.

Hare Krishna

Fuck yeh, yah bastard.
You can fuck right off,
I don't want your shitty leaflet
With its empty surprise
A donation, is it? I think not!

This is expensive roach that I can do without,

Serious cock and balls is all that you shout.
Reality comes with a smack
So pucker up and don't pout.

Suck it

So I'm staying up a little bit late, I'm quite happy listening to ambient music.
This has lead me to want to write an anger filled blog.

If anyone gives me a topic, I'll hate it, and maybe write about it. Sophie's suggestions:

Not enough people thank bus drivers when getting off the bus.
It's their job. They're legally required to let you off the bus. Plus, they're not worthy of my thanks. Although, they didn't choose to drive into a truck and kill everyone on board. To that logic, People should thank me every second that I don't undress and pluck my arse hairs.
Therefore, bus drivers don't need to be thanked if the mood doesn't strike you.

Starving children with bloated stomach's.
Lying, fat bastards. We should eat more and be more selfish. It works for me.

Getting smoke in your eyes.
It's better than a cock in the eye.

Crying children in restaurants when you're trying to enjoy a meal.
At least they're not happy.

Gore-Grind/Gore-Core/Brutal Death Metal Analysis

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Things that aren't Glee

Glee sucks balls because: It deals with teenage problems that no-one gives a shite about in the real world, never mind for entertainment purposes. It plays covers of pop songs and plays them over miming wankers.
I did endure a full 10-15mins of this just to comment on your views Shame-ass!

Now, for some things that sound like Glee, but are not.

Me. Wonderful. Need I elaborate?

Brie. A type of cheese that equals Glee in taste(or lack thereof).

Bree. A death metal scream that mimics the sound of a pig being slaughtered. Very tasty. Pork friendly, anti-Semitic and most of all, good over some blast beats. Reference "Waking The Cadaver" for an idea of bree. It's the type of thing to be done when you run out of lyrics, or simply don't want to use them. More musical value than that well structured high octave conditioned voice that you might hear otherwise in pop.
Drink some whiskey and fuck off.

Gee. Another delicacy. A type of steak and fish, situated roughly between a woman tits and her thighs.

Pee. Primarily used for spelling your name in snow, making the soil acidic levels rise and expressing your sexual preferences to a horse.

Wii. A game console that requires effort. This does not go down well with your common fat dweeb.

Tree. Where money grows.

E. A drug made from MDMA, rat poison and whatever else is under the sink of your local dealers house.

Degree. Something you'll never obtain if you take me seriously.

Knee. A small version of your elbow, often found in your disagreeing face.

Disagree. Something you don't do when I'm talking.

Plea. I hear it everyday. Because I can do everything.

Banshee. Can be found with a tub of ice-cream and saggy breasts complaining about men.

Debris. Always seems to fall from planes over Iraq BY ACCIDENT.

CD. Better than a VHS cassette, worse than a Frisbee.

Bee. Don't hit their hives with a stick. That's fucking stupid.

Guarantee. I never said this blog would be good.

Hurt me, I'm an attention whore.

So I haven't posted in a while. Blow me.
You haven't read my posts. Why not? I'm so good. My total of 5 people who read these shall be thanked by me when hell freezes over. You should be thanking me for enlightening you. I wont justify my absence, think as you will.

Believe it or not, I do have better things to pretend to be doing. Keep in mind of my laziness, I use the spite of Callous & Seabird to drive me(and to steal their ideas). Mr. Callous has reminded me that I too must establish a rota with myself. Which I will disregard.
I will make posts as often as I exercised in the past few months. I'll let you figure out that one.

So much for a new post! You just talked about it. Didn't even make an effort. Now watch this.

Sock, shoes, laces, soles, shoe box. You know that silica desiccant you get from new shoes? Or things of the like. Looks like a packet of sugar. Terrible substitute. Unless you're making a cuppa tea for someone that isn't you. Definitely a good idea. Unlike starting a blog without a clue and relying on your sub-conscious for creative ability.

Sorry for the horribly frequent/inconsistent paragraphs. No. I think I've already said this. If not, Deja Vú. Deja Vú is a funny thing. You might often get that if you watch Family Guy. Either that, or you finally realise that they recycle everything that was slightly humourous in it many times before "Friends" had even got to it.
"Oh no Joey, you've said something irrelevant to distract us from the fact that there was a serious moment for far too long (possibly past the standard users attention span) and now you have a turkey on your head!"
"Ah Chandler, are you saying another terrible penguin bar-esque joke/pun which we frown on so we can look like our sense of humour isn't equally stupid?"
Of course you are, you filth ridden, self ridiculing prick! If this series wasn't the only option for a desperate pubescent male to have a wank in the afternoon over something that resembles a female when tennis isn't on, then it wouldn't have left the studio. At least the series is over and we have nothing to worry about anymo....Desperate Housewives.

Oh dear. I haven't watched enough of it to have adequate material to collectively drop-kick all the producers of it with my neck of insults. You don't believe I can drop-kick a group of people at once with my neck? Foolish.
Although, I do know enough to cover the basics. They're not very desperate, are they? Are they horrible people? Yes. The ginger has a large forehead and is the least attractive one, next to the blonde who mopes the whole time. Given that they're so old, I'm not sure why that conversation comes up so often. Madonna and Uma Thermin don't get that kind of reception.

As a reader of my blogs, you also get homework.

Homework: Fuck off.

And don't forget. I'm great.

Anti-Social Networking

Socializing has never been as anti-social as it is now.
You don't even have to look at someone, or acknowledge their presence to have a conversation anymore. You can tell them that you're busy when you're quite the opposite. Sitting idle thinking of ways to make people think that you're not wasting your life online. Read a wiki page once a day.

"That day wasn't wasted. I learned something."

Valuable as it was, you could have actually met some people in person and given awkward conversation.
There's no Busy or Away status in the real world. No Block button. You have to face real problems other than a loading screen or someone who's just after "prawning your noob ass".

But, why face problems? Why not stay behind the username and the collection of swords in a fantasy world?
The idea of these games are an escape. But there's no escapism if you're always there.

Maybe it's time to escape from the digital world for once?

Go outside, get cold, get fresh air, human interaction. Real experiences.

Computers generate artificial feelings. But.
Maybe.

Are the simulations better than real life?

You can talk so honestly online 'cause you can't get an immediate smack or be seen blushing.
Easy. But. Unless you can break away, you're stuck. Like a cat in a washing machine.

You can keep clean but Whiskers wont be snuggling up to you when he gurgles up washing detergent on your floor and collapses.

Short story shorter.... We're all lazy scum.

Computers were designed to help our lives, now they are our lives.
Is this what we want?

Alter Ego

As far as I know, everyone has another persona. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
If you've ever been bored and then chosen not to be, it's a good technique.

I've created an alternate persona for myself, who is lazier and more useless than me.
Not like the typical favourable fantasy personality similar to Edward Norton/Brad Pitt in "Fight Club". Oh no. The only use my alt-ego serves is to feed me information based on what I already know.
Now I'm gonna mess with phrasing and alternate between each persona.
If I say something stupid, it wasn't me, it was him.

Example:
"Hey Conor"
"Hey you"
"So I'm a "you" now?! Why do you get to be Conor?"
"Because I'm actually Conor, you're just a figment of my imagination.
"Maybe you're a figment of mine?"

*Long conversation about reality, ensuring that I'm not sleeping for a long time.*


"Why do you have bags under your eyes?"
Wankers. I hate that question.
Why don't you have bags under your eyes?! At least I talk to myself. You're just ignorant.

I love making paragraphs.

Oh yeah, Personality.
I could probably drain this one, and leak a bit into it to add a bit more life, but it's not like you'd notice anyways. I Would.
No you wouldn't.

I'll throw out a question to the few who may read these. As more people read, I'll write more.
~Do you question yourself? Do you talk to yourself? and such, if so, how?

Malice and Gee-nerd

http://callousandseabird.blogspot.com/2010/01/tis-season-of-reduced-friction.html

As a direct result of Cian Touhy, I have set myself out to pwn his ass in blog form.

As this is my opening blog, it will be terrible. As will all the others. Anyone who chooses to read them has begun reading their own obituary.

It is snowing. I have established that it is also cold. Who doesn't like a snowball fight? Social recluses! That's who! Patrick Kavanagh would cringe at the thought, despite his love of nature.
I for one am appalled by the snow. The snow prevents all those plants growing.
Ironically, the snowdrops haven't started growing as a result of....you know.
I'm blaming Cian.

Dear Clouds,
Have your snow and be gone.
-Your eternal enemy.

I like to be quick and punchy like the poetic thief who not only robs your wallet, but also your soul.
Next blog will have longer paragraphs, I promise. I promise not to break that promise also.
Maybe.

I might start the next blog in a minute. Bear with me.