Until you hang upon such a cross, you won't know a thing about laughter or loss...and you don't believe me now, but you will...you will, you wil you will you will...you will, you will - Titus Andronicus

Hey All, Best Read This First:

reetings 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


*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.

Cheers Kiddies.


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...


Fuckery, Villainous Fuckery Hath Been the Spoil of Me!!

I am unwell. I had all this amazing (in my mind it's amazing) stuff planned. But it's just not going to happen. Thwarted by fuckery. Damn impudent fuckery and no good lazy shit for brains white blood cells who it seems cannot fight off even a simple fucking cold. <--your cue to utter the hollow, obligatory plattitudes required by etiquette.



PS. Cos I'm a white male, I know what's best for everyone, especially ignorant 3rd world garbage. My advice is:  stay as healthy as you can, don't take your health for granted, once it goes, life's as good as fucked.

PPS: Does it really even matter if your life's fucked? I dunno. That's a question only God can answer. And She seems to be on permanent holiday since Her Son got nailed.

PPPS: God is surely a woman. Only a woman could have produced this screaming bloody infantile mess. How else to explain human nature?

PPPPS: If  you don't believe me about God being a woman, take a look at this painting entitled : The Origin of the World painted by Gustave Courbert. Those Damn French! (Kinky Smug Sons of Bitches) Now you'll have to believe me.


For Some Reason I Can't Explain, I Know St Peter Won't Call My Name...


I hope life's been as good as it ever gets for all of you. I'm annoyed I didn't blog anything for Christmas. It often crossed my mind but Hey Ho, I was busy as all fuck.

2010 ended brilliantly for me. I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful finish to a uh "mixed year". Some great things happened. Some really shit things happened. But all up, the scales finally swung into balance. Spectacularly so. Yee hay.

I didn't bother making New Year's Resolutions. Did you? Cos I'm a vegan (with the exception of free range eggs), my shit doesn't stink anyway. What the fuck do I need to resolve to do? Nothing. Pure as the driven snow.

While I'm on the subject of blogging, all blogging is a dull excercise in vainglorious bullshit. Saying it's for charity, cutsie poo blah blah blah nonsense doesn't make it any less of an excercise in nauseating excreta. My blog's no exception.

Um, well, what to tell you? My cunt of an uncle's coming to stay next week. I don't even like being in the same room as the filthy piece of shit. He's the kind of person though, if you deny him anything, he puts the worst complexion on it, draws the nastiest conclusions, and then spreads them to all and sundry. Gosh that character trait reminds me of people I used to tweet with. Anyway... as aforestated, he's simply, a cunt.

Normally I'd just go (for his privacy I'll simply call him Uncle Cunt) "Sorry  Unky Cunt, I'm ah, watching an elephant fuck a pig next week, you can't stay. Sorry dude. You're out of luck. Kthnxby"

But I'm leaving the UK soon, and as I'd rather cut my throat than ever return here, it really doesn't matter if Uncle Cunt stays a few days, I'll never see him again. I don't even like being in the same room as the sleazy prick. My partner, with whom I signed a "Civil Partnership" in the late afternoon of the 24th of Dec last year is a pretty imposing 194 cm of pure muscle, gorgeous Teutonic specimen. Uncle Cunt (who lacks all physical courage) won't fuck with either of us.

Well, Kiddies. I didn't want to bang on ad nauseum. So I'll keep it short, (if not quite sweet) and wish you all the very best for the year ahead. I've been lucky beyond words. Finally I'm drug free.

My past is very different to most peoples', it's not something I wanted the world knowing about, neither in social media nor in private life, but for a few diff reasons, I no longer care. Fuck everyone. I'm happy.  The first 18 years of my life were pure hell, the ones after that (I'm 23 now) wern't that easy either;  just less desperate.

Cheers n Luv

Belladonna  (Fudge is my Cat. I composed this post, not my cat)