Rapture

So the Rapture didn’t happen yesterday. Pity.

Just imagine a world where the religious fundamentalists suddenly disappear into the clouds, leaving rational, sensible people behind. Rapture indeed.

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Published in: on May 22, 2011 at 11:23 am  Comments (10)  

Towelhead Down

By our man in the Black Hawk, Repoman Jack

Osama Bin Laden done got his ass busted real good. The Seals knew just what they’re doing and our C-in-C is tuned in realtime to watch the show (thought Hilary looked kinda queasy tho). Obama comes outta this looking real fine, he wanted the sucker killed and killed he was, hiding behind wife #3 like a real macho. Navy boys done ‘buried him at sea’. Yeah right. Bet the Marines drew up a real reverential service. American justice.

Big party stateside by all red-blooded Americans. Well not quite. Now there’s these dadbasted do-gooders all cringeing and crying that we never read him his rights or tried to arrest under due process. Due process my boney ass. If ever a man’s guilty as all hell its this varmint. Did we ‘violate his human rights’? Sure did, in spades. And then some.

Now I don’t recall him reading no rights to the victims of 9/11. Or USS Cole. Or them African embassies. Or them thousands of other muslims he killed for deviating from his fundamentalist version. No sir, he’s just a cold-blooded bastard hiding in his mansion while his flankers do his evil. He got his deserts.

The Seals go in

Even more hackling is them Pakistani bandits getting all  riled up and saying we violated their airspace and didn’t notify or seek approval for the raid.  Well tough talookie, buster. Here’s public enemy No 1 holed up a mile from their elite military academy and 35 miles from the capital for 5 years and they want us to believe they didn’t know nuthin’?? Per-lease! If he was a mile from West Point you bet your  ass the CIA would have twigged it pronto. We’ve been saying it for years, we pump in the aid and the military hardware but these hombres just aint our allies, and now we got us proof. So hang your moustache in shame Abdul, the whole world knows you as a two-faced rattler who shelters terrorists. And stuff that up yer violated airspace.

New York Times got it right on the money. Rot In Hell was their headline. And if that violates Satan’s human rights, well its just a risk we’re gonna have to take.  Nuff said.

Published in: on May 4, 2011 at 10:41 am  Comments (20)  

Gasbags of Tedium

So people are deserting this blog? I aint surprised. Thinking of leaving it myself. And why?

I’ll tell you. I’ve never seen such a smug bunch of peely-wally gasbags in my life. This is supposed to be a blog for rants and raves but it’s all so balanced and restrained. Pseudo-liberal nuance and mild offence if anyone steps out of line, like someone loosing a ripping fart at the soiree. “Oh Deidre we simply must expel that ghastly uncouth oik, he’s not one of us”

It’s become a haunt for a pack of Rev J.C. Flannels – “Yes Satan does attract a certain negativity in the commentariat but on the other hand…” Why do we need to give the other side? Just let rip. You don’t need to add references and a bibliography. Blurrrgh.

Stereotyped feminist bollox from the females, jokey blokey pub banter from the men. One-trick ponies who always twist the bland thread to their own tedious monomania. I mean, who gives a flying fuck about ID cards and holistic transgendered lentils? Who?

And that wretched last line – it’s always from some naff act in the 80’s but not one of their hits, so its hard and for the connoisseur. God, how I hate it. Last line my arse, it’s vile. Then there’s those dumb photos I save while looking elsewhere so I can insert them in posts and be terribly post-modern and ironic. Pass the sick-bag Alice.

There’s not enough posters – most are from me on my endless hospital adventures which might engage me a lot right now but we’ve all got collared by some boring old twat who goes on and on about his predictable illnesses and his ludicrous remedies. And we all legged it, right? Right. I’ll snip my drip before I turn into one of them.

Too much talking. Talk talk talk talk talk the sound & fury signifying nothing. Blether blether bleat babble babble blether blether bleat blether babble. Punctuated with staccato braying laughter Hahahhahaha. Set it on tapeloop; do it once then rewind & play again and again as new babblers emerge. They come in your house and you have to flee to the bedroom but it doesn’t stop them & you can hear the low bletherdrone grinding on punctuated with Hahahahahaha.

Its not going to be a good day today

Published in: on April 25, 2011 at 8:39 am  Comments (15)  

Fanatics in our midst

By our fanatical correspondent Delbo Desperado 

The word Fanatic has a real bad press, it’s become associated with beardy bombists or swivel-eyed Goddists. This cunning spin has allowed millions of infiltrators to slip under the radar and wreak havoc in civilised society by endlessly pushing their own severely localised passion upon unsuspecting folks. 

You know the sort – whatever the topic of conversation they immediate seek to switch it round to their own hobby-horse and just won’t let go. These guys learned boredom on their mother’s knee, graduated through tedium and specialised in graduate school in coma-inducing catatonics. At this point, the fully trained fanatic is assigned one and only one topic to learn in the most stupendous detail then unleashed upon a gullible and unsuspecting public. Their mission: to latch onto any member of the public and drone on and on without letting go for an instant. Their aim is nothing less than the total destruction of civilised converse and life as we know it. 

Irritating

 

The pitch of voice is crucial: it must be dull, flat and monotone. It must have the insistent drone of a distant buzzsaw, the urgency of a mosquito in your ear, and the fatalism of a dead fish. Advanced practitioners whinge, cringe and drone. They even go so far as to wield totally unnecessary hand gestures to emphasise a point of such crushing tedium that it lulls the victim back to near-consciousness to continue the torture. 

Bars, public transport and government waiting rooms are favourite haunts. You feel the thud of someone sitting next to you and with mounting horror you realise you’re trapped. “Isn’t amazing how many people completely fail to be aware of the correct instances where it is permissable to overtake on the inside?” This is the opening shot from guy I met yesterday in Kowloon who labours under the total misapprehension that the world shares his fascination with the UK Highway Code. “How many instances would you say were permissable?”. “Errr…3?” “You couldn’t be more wrong, it’s 4” He then triumphantly proceeds to detail all 4 in the dead tone and lexicon of a driving examiner and your heart sinks. 

There’s a guy in our pub – “Woody Jim” – who only talks about wood. Endlessly. He once did a pub quiz where all 40 questions were wood-based. “Take 3 pieces of coaxial-cut wood, which is the denser? Is it (a) split pine (b) ash or (c) maple?” At first we thought he was sending himself up but as the questions headed into the teens and increasingly woody we realised he was dead serious. After being roundly kicked off he said “I don’t understand. I thought you all liked wood. We talk about it all the time”. No Jim, you do. 

It’s likely these fanatics are intrusive alien avatars sent to test our resistance to the limit before the big invasion. What they lack in the impact of headline terrorists with their “spectaculars” they make up for with their numbers. They are legion, hordes of ’em. Is there any sane and reasonable argument against having them gruesomely killed? 

So we’re different colours/ And we’re different creeds/ And different people have different needs/ It’s obvious you hate me//

Published in: on May 24, 2010 at 1:35 pm  Comments (63)