How to get High and Have a Fun Time

Greetings Dear Reader

My head is still... oh, how to explain this feeling? kind of spacey after my last little experiment. This means it must have gone well. Only it can make simple things a little tricky, ie: typing.

Why do I do it to myself? I mean really, why? What do I get out of regularly turning my head into a no go zone? It's like a fucking marshmellow right now.

Yesterday, two well intentioned tweep friends implied, (independently of one another) that really, I must be a troubled soul to do this to myself. Well, not really, I don't think. Ok, I'll settle for a little weird that I can't get my jollies by you know, consumerism, McHappyPlastic, fast food, packaged holidays, tv land, skank mags, vacuous plastic boob job pop culture, rationalized, sedated society...

I know, I know, something's desperately wrong with me obviously.

Being pleasantly stoned is a science and an art. My method is minimum input for maximum trashedness. If one plans it properly, the liver need not rot away; by carefully combining moderate amounts of vodka with happy pills, weed (anything you like really), one can achieve the desired chemical reaction... And oh lord. What a high... What an incredible shit fest in the brain, circuits wallow in happiness, synapses fire off mellow bliss. At that moment, I sincerely wish everyone could be as quietly happy, as affable. There's quite a few people I know who could really, really, fucking do with it.

Needless to say, I'm a strong believer in the freedom to self medicate.

But you know, there's always some cretin out to bum your high. Some politician, bureaucrat who was the fat boy at school nobody liked. Some puritan cracker cunt revenging themselves upon a world that they feel has passed them by for being whatever...too ugly, too socially inadequate, altogether too unpleasant to love and so on, ad nauseum.

The downside? There isn't much of one really. As I never use uppers (amphetamines: cocaine, speed etc) of any kind (ugh), I never experience the hell of coming down. At worst, I can only think in binary code ie: thoughts and sentences become very simple logical units. Nothing extends beyond the logistics of 2 + 2 = 4.

That's not so catastrophic is it? Now pardon me dear reader, I need to crawl back into my marshmellow and hide out for a while. I sense the soulless spectre of a homogenized bourgeois world closing in on me...time to fucking run for my life...

Friday Summary

Good evening to all, it's Friday evening and the weekend slowly hoves into view. That's Nice. This is the one night of the week we can all get pissed with impunity. Let's face it, even in this atheistic age, we all (ok neurotic little old me at any rate) still feel a little ashamed to be waking up drunk as a Lord on Sunday, God's Day of Rest. Amen.

For me God is a bit like the Nosferatu... I don't believe in him, but I'm scared of him. I pack as much as I can into Friday and sober up innocent as a lamb before the Nosferatu on Sunday. I must have him fooled cos I always wake up fucking alive on Monday...some lame God.

Well goodness, what a week it's been. How about that old Cunta Kinta and her iron lungs huh? The sound of her screaming bloody fucking mad is still trapped like a recording in my head. Earlier today someone implied I said things to generate a bit of sensation, No! No! you silly spoilt half wit WASP amoeba halfwit, it's all true. Sorry to piss all over your fluffy McHappyland weltanschaung, but people like the Cunta Kinta DO exist. And frighteningly, they breed and produce offspring... as well as other disasters.

Ok, having covered God, the Mother...let me complete the unholy trinity with a look at Poll Results. Let's start with the Hugs Are Nice! poll: 36% agreed I was an emotional retard. This fulfills my masochistic needs so I'm very grateful. Thank you. A very impressive 54% agreed with me that Hugs are Cyber Fucking. Well, that's right too. Someone tried it on me today, I nearly lost it, seriously nearly cracked the fuck up....Moving on... I think the people that most impressed were the extremely deviant 36% who reported they secretly got off on hugs.

This may be the most fascinating twitter poll of all time. The next time someone offers someone else a hug I'm going to die laughing, well over a half will think they're being cyber fucked, and over a quarter will be quietly getting off. Fun times!

Ok devolving from God to the Cosmos: 38 % agree that the universe is a dark, chaotic and violent place (right you are) The McHappyLand voters were quite obviously joking or drunk so I won't even bother with them. 26 % rather creatively decided that the the whole thing was a figment of their imagination, and a sweetly naive 15% were rather surprised to find there was a universe. Well I admire them, that's the kind of oblivion I aim for on a daily basis.

What can I offer these geniuses? Perhaps an all expenses paid trip to that Eighth Wonder of the World, the psychopathic Cunta Kinta?...they may not know there's a universe...but they'll surely find there's a Hell...

Wishing you a hug free weekend;
Cheers and Love from your Friend

Sir Fudge Esq

It's a Cyber Psych Ward Out There, Beware the Freakshows...

Has anyone ever experienced the creepiness of undue, sinister attention on twitter? I have.

I'm not talking about the harmless ones sniffing around for a cyber fuck. Who cares, one can simply say yes or no. There is no harm done by asking, that never offends me. I mean the types who constantly bombard your DMs with aggressively personal questions, who are always in your face, and if you ignore them, start trying to make trouble for you.

I've recently had 2 such experiences. Both people involved are now blocked. One of them, invented another account and sent me DM after DM trying to get me to bitch about people I tweet with. It was all so fucking transparently an attempt to cause trouble. Eventually I made it clear on the timeline that I knew it was all a sham. Within a few minutes, the account was deleted. Good riddance evil destructive cunt.

A few months ago, there was someone who sent me some very bizarre DMs, not a day went passed that I didn't receive something barely coherent and aggressive. It was like getting a DM from a fucking ape. When I politely made it clear that I preferred they talk to me on public timeline, their tactics changed.

They began to ask me openly as well as obliquely for personal details, and tried to act as though it was a joke. They started to make bitchy comments about me based on tweets I'd sent to others, in other words, they were letting me know that they were watching me. A very close friend later told me he'd received DMs from one of them hinting quite broadly I was an arsehole, didn't he agree? etc etc.

A few days ago, they started to get very nasty. It's my policy to never bother responding when this happens, I just block and forget. It isn't possible to beat the insane, the stupid, the vicious at their own game. They enjoy fucking with people, engage with them -and they've got you where they want you.

I don't doubt that I bring a lot of this on myself. Anyone who says the ridiculous half witted things I do is probably going to invite fixation of some form. But all the same, it's very creepy.

There's a lot more to the story, too much to relate here, but this I found especially unnerving, the 1st psycho I mentioned, would constantly imply both openly and on DM that I was mentally ill, that there was something very wrong with me. I think he got quite frustrated when I told him, that not only did I completely agree, but I also rather enjoyed psychological instability. It's not a point I'm terribly fragile about, but I do wonder though, how it would have affected someone a lot more easily hurt than me...

I have many extremely good friends here that I'm very tight with, I can tell them anything, so on the whole, I don't feel vulnerable or isolated when freakshows fixate on me. But I can't emphasize enough how
unnerving and eerie it is.

I've learned that just because someone has an avatar with something furry on it, doesn't mean they're harmless, twitter is the same as any public space anywhere, the same levels of good nature, evil nature, kindness and nastiness exist. Politeness and friendliness won't save you if someone is out to hurt you. For your own sake, be very very discerning about who you allow into your headspace.

Email: Is it Cute or Dumb?

Why are do Twitter animals use baby talk? Sometimes I can't even parse what in the hell they are saying. We all have preferred names for things like "shiny on a stick". those are fine. I am talking murdering words to be cute and adorable. Animals are cute and adorable by definition. We don't have to try, we are what we are.

I may not be the brightest cat, but Mom taught me to speak in complete sentences in the American version of the King's English. Everyone misspells, but to purposefully spell "hooman"? Are they trying to imitate a Scots' hoot man?

Mom is a chemist and has had to dumb down in front of men, and now regrets it. In the same manner, if animals dumb themselves down, they are expecting to be treated as a subhuman species. I find that if I act as intelligent as I can, Mom and I can have conversations, and I able to express what I feel and/or need.

Whenever I see a tweet that is gobbledygook, I ignore until I see some sort of intelligence. Then, and only then might I pay attention to the critter. But, mainly, they can take a powder.

Signed
Anonymous

I visit Cunta Kinta, and teach the kiddies a few tricks...

This weekend I saw the Cunta Kinta, my Omi (german for granma). I had 3 main objectives: 1. Cause no trouble 2. Say nothing, nod and smile alot 3. Stay constantly stoned.

The plan was simple in theory. I had a relative who deeply and utterly pissed me off. I said nothing, but in my mind she was slowly being roasted to death on a spit whilst marinating in my urine. Yes, yes! nasty I know...but you don't know this psychopathic slut of a woman.
Oddly enough, this horrendous bitch has managed to produce 2 rather wonderful children...two boys, who are just the coolest kids, and a third, a girl, who is rather a waste of space, not offensive, just boring as bat shit.

Anyway, the high point of the weekend, was when Omi imagined one of the kiddies gave her a bit of lip (they didn't, these boys are angels) the upshot was, the Cunta Kinta screamed her fucking nuts off...it was kind of funny but alarming at the same at the same time, she has lungs like jet engines on heat...you seriously do not want to be close by.
I hustled those kiddies off as fast as I could (in my stoned state) it was like, "come on boys, come and help your uncle Fudge in the bathroom...Kid A: hold the spoon steady Kid B: hold the tourniquet for your Uncle Fudge...nice and tight, there's a good lad..." Just for the record, Kid A is 13 Kid B is 17, old enough to assist their Uncle to self medicate as far as I'm concerned. Don't bullshit yourself they haven't seen it all before...

All the guys in my family are very cool. The drunken uncle who is fantastically intelligent and self medicates on anything with an alcohol content every night, my other weirdo uncle (nearly 50) who just laughs at everyone and oddly enough, is a health fanatic who still lives at home with omi (we only have extremes, middle of the road just doesn't exist for us, either survive any which way, or go crawl in a hole and die, I never said we were nice people)

There's also the poor bastard who is married to the horrendous bitch, he frequently rings one of my aunts almost in tears because his marriage is a nightmare...I tried to warn the poor prick when he first started courting my sister...he hated me then, he talks to me now like a desperate, lonely man...he knows better now. What can I say to him? "that's my family honey, mad, bad, and dangerous to know..."

Cheers guys, hope your weekend was cool. Anyone offended/disgusted by this post, let me tell you something sonny, I actually left out the worst bits

Weekly Summary

Greetings Dear Reader;
It's been a horrible week. No doubt things are worse in Palestine, but on Planet Fudge, my little bolt hole from the dark, chaotic and violent universe we inhabit, things have not been so nice either.
First Planet Fudge was flooded with a sea of vodka that caused all circuits to malfunction for days on end, then then came an attack of some kind of evil gastro bots which severely fucked up the waste disposal unit and finally the insanely nightmarish news that the Planet is about to be invaded from without by the Evil Cunta Kinta.
I can't take it any more.
You may recall dear reader, the poll I ran asking tweeps to decide: 1.whether or not I should fuck off. 2. that I should stay on account of the schadenfreude I provide 3. that I can stay provided I hand out sexual favours (head jobs). That was the soft option. Although really, when you think about it, there isn't that much difference between options 2 and 3.
I'm pleased to provide the following results: 4 % chose Fuck Off. 65% chose Stay, Schadenfreude. 30% per cent chose option 3.
49 people participated. None of the options required anyone to make humiliating, cloying declarations of love (you know "Stay Fudgie Wudgie we wuvs you") but in fact closely approximated the true conditional qualities of liking someone (I love you cos I feel superior to you, I love you cos you give me head etc etc) So I'm inclined to think that these results are to some degree reliable.
To the 4% who would like me to fuck off, what can I do? If I offer to kill myself, will that placate?

Anyway, I'm going to conclude by saying, a big thank you to all who participated. Should anyone change your mind about me you'll get your chance to say so, I'm going to run similar polls in the future because I love them and they fulfill my masochistic needs, so please, don't feel bad if you want me to fuck off, chances are, I share the sentiment.

Cheers and Love, from your friend

Sir Fudge Esq

Packing for a Trip

I have to go away for a few days to visit my Kunta Kinta. (explanation available on request). The whole thing is retarded. I actually have to get a taxi, then a train, then a plane then a train. I don't want to go. It's someone's 80th birthday, won't that be bag of fun...yeah, good luck with that...
These days I'm lucky if I struggle out of bed at 11 in the am. I have to ring a fucking taxi at 9? Wtf? I can see it all going pear shaped pretty quickly...
I honestly don't know what to do...I don't have an alarm clock, I'm too thick to set the mobile alarm. I know I won't go to sleep before 2 am...what to do...what to do...what the fuck to do...
I suppose one thing I can do is pack ahead at least the essentials to survive this disaster: 1. Valium 2. Prozac 3. Vodka 4. Sundry illegal non scripts 5. ipod to tune out the Cunta Kinta's ear splitting, senile racist rants...ah, better take 2 bottles of valium...someone might try to hug me...
With any luck I'll get arrested at the airport, here's hoping . Helping the police with their inquiries is a pretty watertight excuse not attend grandma's 80th isn't it? Who can blame me for that?

Email: In Defence of Ms A. Wearne

Dear Sir Fudge Esq
I am a good friend of A. Wearne's and I agree with everything she said. I know you think you're very clever and smart but you're reply post to her just showed everyone how arrogant and cruel you are. Keep this nasty foul mouthed blog up, you'll soon be losing all your friends.


Name withheld

The nature of the sentimental mob... Appropos of nothing, Just ignore

Self consciously public displays of sentiment revolt me. There's always something coercive and unnatural about them. A kind of mob smugness that sanctimoniously implies if you're not with us, you're a cold, unfeeling creep. Let me give you one example of how this has worked in history.

When that high class good time girl Diana Spencer died because her chauffeur was a stoned drunken speeding fuck, the boo hoo mob went into hysteria hyperdrive. Flowers, tears, cheap sentiment, pop 'stars' recycling lame songs, infotainment nobodies photogenically boo hooing into microphones, cheap arsed women's magazines peddling schmalz, hand wringing and chest beating... oh, it was all so terribly concerned...oh so dreadfully sad... all so boo fucking hoo... sentiment commodified, all played out to the sound track of big business laughing all the way to the bank...

But the really nauseating bit was the pressure on the Queen (the mother in law for Christ's sake!!) to "prove" she cared. No uglier sight than that of the mob forcing it's way into a private person's interior and trying to colonize it with their sickly McHappyLand pop culture sentiment. If I'd have been Queen Elizabeth, I'd have gone out on the balcony and given the crowd the one finger salute and told them to fuck themselves in no uncertain terms...or simply barfed on them...

Has anyone read Shakespeare's "King Lear"? A senile, vain, stupid king banishes the daughter who truly loves him because her integrity and sensitivity preclude her from making a sham parade of her feelings in order to satisfy his grotesque vomit inducing egotistical neediness. Eventually, the old man is stripped of everything: title, friends, protectors, castle...by the daughters who had obligingly declared their undying love...

As for me? I understand very very well that when someone does the "prove you care bit" they are only trying to fuck with me... only trying to establish some kind of domination or make a parade of their own worthless, hollow sentiment to gain attention...Go bleed your sham conscience all over someone else...I'm not your audience. Boo fucking hoo.

Hello It's Monday, (sort of)

Dear Reader,

As several people have commented I'm rather late with my Monday blog entry. I do apologize.
The truth is, I'm a little hungover from the weekend. My eyeballs are still floating around in a sea of vodka and my head is still spinning from other little misdemeanors.

But I did all this for a good cause. I wanted to test my genius hypothesis that there's a correlation between the amount of vodka consumed and the duration of the inevitable hangover.

Unfortunately, after the first two bottles, I lost the ability to scientifically and accurately record my results. So I have no evidence to tender in support of my hypothesis.

However, anecdotally, I can say with reasonable certainty that as my head still hurts like all fuck on this Tuesday, my guess is there's some kind of correlation between 4 bottles of vodka and a hangover that is apparently never going to end...who'd a thought. Also, in the spirit of behaving like a responsible adult, I feel I should offer the following advice: don't try this at home kiddies.

See you properly when my head and liver return to their usual state of serene chaos.


Cheers

Sir Fudge Esq

End of Week Summary

Dear reader. I had a rant prepared, but i think i'll let it go...it's Friday, I'm mellow, who the fuck wants to know... it can wait till Monday...

This Friday concludes my first 4 days of blogging, I think it's been a huge success, relative to my underachiever standards...I've had love mail, hate mail, and pissed off 2 people I didn't really like anyway...I'd say it's all going my way...

My poll results are going surprisingly well, 1 person wants me gone (someone else vote for me to piss off twitter, this person is looking like a goose sitting there all alone, plus it makes the poll look rigged) 75% want me to stay because I give them schadenfreude (joy in the suffering of others) and an impressive 25% say I can stay if I blow them, I think these are the people who really love me...

I have nothing intelligent to say now. I can only wish everyone a lovely schmaltz free weekend. Thank you to those who have read and commented. I aim to please and often misfire.

If anyone has been offended by anything said here, may I suggest you truly are a fucking idiot for taking a blog seriously that advises it can only be best digested with huge volumes of vodka? My guess is you spend much of your life offended....

Cheers and Love, from Your Friend

Sir Fudge Esq

Email: Re Hugger Schmugger Shit

Dear Sir Fudge
Your post on paw circles and hugging made me so angry. Why do you always have to twist things so that you see them the worst possible way? A lot of people are comforted by paw circles, but you have to sneer at them. Like one of the people who commented said, there's something wrong with you. Someone who admits to drug taking and talks about prostitutes doesn't belong on the anipal community. You're a bad example to everyone else. I know you get a lot of attention when your on twitter, I don't know why, I wish you would just go away. You need a psychiatrist.

This blog is disgusting. You should just go away.

Proudly signed A. Wearne

Hugger Schmugger Shit: You Seem to Have Mistaken Me For Someone Who Gives a Fuck

I'm supposed to be asleep but I can't sleep, I'm thinking about a really nice offer I got from a fellow tweep which sadly, I couldn't take advantage of, my net connection went bung, cyberus interruptus... but that's ok, she'll keep...

You seem to have mistaken me for someone who gives a fuck. This has got to be one of the most gloriously dismissive expressions all time. Or "why are you even bothering me with your boring bullshit" another personal favourite.

I'm going to use these the next time someone tells me/implies I'm cold, arrogant, selfish or fucked in the head because I don't want to do things like pawcircles, cuddlepiles, hugs, or other public demonstrations of sentiment. I don't have anything against these things, but I just can't/don't want to do them.

Not everyone is born into Prayer circle/paw circle culture/mentality, not everyone wants to fucking hug, I would never lay a cyber paw/hand on anyone I didn't know well, I respect their personal space far too much. I would never presume that someone I don't know well would want me to be all over them. That kind of thing disgusts me to the core. BUT, I have no problem at all with those who like that kind of thing.

Funny isn't it? there's a certain type that persists in telling me how hard hearted I am, which itself is a kind of bullying criticism and yet I'm the one that's able to accept that some do, some don't...

I don't mind being the butt of jokes about hugging and touchy feely stuff, I enjoy it and think it's funny, but people who act as if there's something wrong with me because I don't want to cyber fuck a stranger (which to me is no different to all of the above mentioned) just piss me right off.

On twitter, I never imply there is something wrong with someone who is culturally different. I accept people exactly as they present themselves to me, I don't ask any more from them. Would be so nice if certain types could return this rather kind and all embracing outlook...

Email: Twitter Addiction

Dear Sir Fudge Esq,

Twitter Addiction. The instant gratification of hearing from someone who is a cyber friend. Being able to swap embellished tales without fear of the spouse saying you're full of shit. And, most of all, being able to hide behind the avatar and imagine yourself popular.

I am proud to be a geek who was tortured by the popular kids. However, Twitter has given me a taste of what it's like to be popular. My gorgeous avatar has such witty repartee and isn't awkward around scads of people. It's heaven on earth to not be me for a couple of hours a day.

Yes, even at this ripe old age, you can still become addicted. "Hello. I'm Rudy's mom, and I'm a Twitter addict."

Please sign:

RudyCKat's Mom

I just woke up with Fuzz Head....but it's about politics on twitter

Hello...I just woke up about 10 minutes ago.... head feels like a bag of shit on a stick... did i just wake up in an evil parallel universe?...it all looks the same... Thwack!@%#?!! Kappppow!! #$%!! sssssSmash!!&*(#$%!?! ...no, not even after a good hard smash against the wall will it fire up...shit it hurts though...Is it time for my pills? Did I pass out pissed again? No. Suppose I'll just have to carry on...bear with me, I've tried everything I could think of...

The purpose of this post, (if I could just stop my brain from retarding backwards for a minute) was to comment on the subject of the (brilliant) email I received from my dear friend @FestusLittleMan

Look, I concede that Festus is much brighter than me, and saner, so people are going to take him far more seriously, I've tried to engage people in political discussion but no luck. I was explaining to a tweep from Alabama that I'm a Catholic Communist, that Obama was my hero, and a fucking hot piece of ass too, didn't they agree? Anyway, the upshot is, I've never heard from this tweep again...where did I go wrong?

Email: Festus Little Man: Political Debate: Fucking Republicans

Dear Sir Fudge Esq

I have something to say about Conservative Republicans dropping their view point all over twitter. I am all for free speech. Go ahead, voice your opinion. Let your voice be heard. But, when someone responds to your opinion, have the balls and intelligence to back up your opinion. Don't be a fear mongering bomb dropper then request that the person who confronted your opinion block you or stop following you.

If you are going to post it for all to see, then be ready to defend it. If your are not ready to defend your opinion or you are just an ignorant person repeating mindless drivel that you have heard, without thinking about it, then please take your opinion and SHUT UP!

I am confident that the majority of us don't want to be constantly blasted with your fear mongering ultraconservative blathering BULLSHIT all the fucking time.

Please shut up or put up

FestusLittleMan
April Johnson
Name proudly posted. If I put it out there, i will gladly debate it with you!

Email How to Deal with Hurtful, Bitchy Tweeps

Dear Sir Fudge Esq

This is a really good idea, I want to let off some steam. Two weeks ago someone said something bitchy to me. I asked whats up and they acted like I started everything. I had a good relationship with them till this. Now they are bitchy to me all the time and I don't know what to do. I'd like you to publish this so that people can see how horrible others feel when they act bitchy for no reason. But don't mention my name please.

Blocking

What is the big deal with blocking, why does it generate so much anxiety and stigma? Some time ago, I was involved in a situation with well, a poor stupid attention seeking white trash cracker, the kind of person who just lives to hate me... with a passion. Apparently my world view isn't Kentucky Fried Brain enough for them. Anyway...I digress with vehemence...

Apparently, the Really Bad thing I did, was to block her, although, this never actually happened...the block only ever existed in her brain, where I suspect it remains...

Anyway, I'm digressing with vehemence again....
But so what if I had have blocked her? Had my account have been unprotected, of course I would have done it without second thought. It's a reasonable and valid way to avoid further nastiness.

I don't have any hard feelings about people who block me. I 'm not entitled to be on anyone's timeline, and no one is entitled to be on mine, like all friendship, it's a conditional privilege. If someone can't show me basic fucking respect or friendliness I'm unapologetic about seeing them to the door with a one finger salute...

This dipshit held a Pity Party Bitch Fest at my expense that went on for days about a fucking imaginary block. How truly elegant and intelligent...that's the nature of people who conduct themselves like twitter fascists...pure class...

heh heh, I may go block her now just for the hell of it... see how persuasive I am? I talked myself right into it...