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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

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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.