Hey All, Best Read This First:
Greetings and a warm welcome to my blog.
First things first
This blog contains words and references offensive to those who never made it through the maturation process.
The intellectually and psychologically impaired will find nothing here to enjoy.
If this applies to you, dear reader, you're welcome, and strongly encouraged to leave now. No hard feelings on my part.
I'm trying to make this clear to the 'boo hoo brigade". If you CANNOT grasp this simple concept. This page is NOT FOR YOU
REPEAT: WARNING: BLACK IRONY. NASTY SELF PISS TAKING HUMOUR. FUCK OFF NOW IF YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THIS. I WON'T MIND. EVER.
*PS: I'm pro Palestinian, pro animal rights in a way that pisses many people off. You should consider fucking off now if you object to this kind of thing.
PS This blog is not really fit for human consumption, it's best read as it was written, drunk on vodka or otherwise high as a kite...Enjoy...
Hello guys, I suppose I should do something vaguely Jingle Bells so that I don't look like a complete social misfit. I'm going to concede in advance that I won't carry this off too well. I'd really rather discuss the fascinating twitter conversations I've been having lately as to whether ear size correlates to penis size. If you look at my ears, it's an argument that serves me quite well, therefore, I argue for the affirmative. I have a dog friend with floppy ears, I feel a mixture of pity and delicious schadenfreude for him.
But this has nothing to do with presents. Ok, I'm very easy to buy for. I have distinct interests and tastes. My favourite things are: Radiohead, Robots, Rosary Beads, Russian Roulette Wheels, Reading, Vodka and drugs. Simple. Easy.
Naturally, I never get any of them, instead I get revolting little figurines of Shakespeare (why for God's sake?), bizarre looking ugly stuffed animals that resemble nothing I've ever seen and bottles of Baileys. I don't want any of this shit. Last year, my Cunta Kinta got me (I'm not kidding) a complete set of Beatrice Potter's fucking animal stories with, Oh dear God... little musical buttons on it... Not to be outdone, my sister (she with the suicidal husband) got me (and I can barely believe this happened) a goddamn bead making thing, I'm supposed to make a fucking dragonfly out of it. The instructions with this cheap arsed shit from China were barely coherent. But what was clear, was the advice on the packing that it was intended "For ages 5 and up" I gave it back to her last Christmas, with a smile.
The worst present I ever got was a hot water bottle. Not in a nice shape,no fancy fabric patterns, (cos that would have made all the difference) just a fucking ugly blue rubber hot water bottle. Everyone in my family knows I hate those things. I would rather throw myself in the pits of Hell than use one, if you want the truth, I find hot water bottles creepy, they're like hugs, everyone else likes 'em, but I find them sinister. Shocked, I rather impolitely burst forth with "What kind of a fucking retarded Christmas present is this?, You got me a fucking hot water bottle?! are you insane??!!"... Naturally, I've since been considered difficult to buy presents for, as well as rather rude and ungrateful.
The present exchange that made me laugh and laugh till my sides hurt occurred between my weirdo Onkel Alex and his niece. Unky Alex is the stingiest man you will ever meet. He gets women to buy him dinner, drinks, etc which they do as he's very handsome, then he dumps them without mercy. He gets family members to tell them either A: he no longer lives here as of yesterday B: he's died C: Go away.
Anyway, one year Alex bought his niece a stupid little troll head that fits on top of a pencil. It cost him, 99 cents US. As he was wrapping it (yes, he really wrapped it) he broke it,but he gave it to her anyway.
The next Christmas, the niece bought him a a thumb wrestling kit. When I saw it, I couldn't stop laughing, it took me 15 minutes to even straighten up. If someone buys you a thumb wrestling kit, they're telling you: you have absolutely nothing worthwhile to do with your time and your life is completely pointless.
Just for the record, a thumb wrestling kit is a small piece of plastic with two holes. One puts one's thumbs through these holes and it's on for young and old.
Well I'm going to conclude now as thankfully the weed is taking over my faculties. But if anyone wants a blue rubber hot water bottle for Christmas, the lucky first to email me gets it.