tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30986746013123942692024-02-08T00:22:01.059+00:00Scattergum"Not quite as funny as Charlie Brooker"E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-68289247089638542402010-07-30T17:20:00.002+01:002010-09-06T21:06:53.560+01:00Elliot Armstrong: RomantacistIt was at the GUM clinic their eyes first met. He was there to have is scrot-rot salved and she was in to have her pube nits fumigated.<br />Like-minded people have a way of finding each other, and under the fluorescent lights, between the callow sighs of the teen aged girls in for pregnancy tests and over magazines about the woman whose ex ate her daughter's tits they found each other.<br /><br />Both contaminated both, and both <span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;">very adventurous.<br /><br /><br /></span>Back at his place he knew that once she saw his red PVC sofa, to his mind the ultimate status symbol, he would be knee deep in fanny batter because he was a total prick; just like all the men in romance novels and real life. He reclined, took off his shirt and waited. They had discussed food play on the bus over and he had the most erotic of all foods in the oven.<br /><br />On the menu tonight was copulation with a side order of a plate of chops.<br /><br />The candles that were obviously there, because this is erotic fiction, flickered as she entered the room<span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;">; </span>platter of assorted chops in hand. She looked at his hard chest and was reminded of galvanised rubber, hard and unforgiving; to her his abs were like Val Kilmer as Batman spray painted pink and with a bonk on. He confidently took the bone from a chop from the plate, fake fellated it briefly and said "Take your top off honey, lift your skirt and turn around. We gonna make us some gravy."<br /><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"></span></span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"><span style="font-style: italic; text-shadow: none;"></span><br /></span></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-31119597032819046952010-05-06T21:02:00.000+01:002010-09-06T21:03:25.796+01:00Nick Griffin Versus The Night<h3 style="text-shadow: none;" class="post-title entry-title"> </h3> <div style="text-shadow: none;" class="post-header"> </div> <div style="text-shadow: none;" class="post-body entry-content"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-AU;} h1 {mso-style-next:Normal; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; page-break-after:avoid; mso-outline-level:1; font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning:0pt; mso-ansi-language:EN-AU; font-weight:normal;} p.MsoBodyText, li.MsoBodyText, div.MsoBodyText {margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-AU;} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:70.85pt 63.65pt 2.0cm 63.65pt; mso-header-margin:72.0pt; mso-footer-margin:72.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">As the country goes to the polls serious politician and definitely not a chob-eyed, racist, dog interferer Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP has launched an eleventh hour campaign that he believes will garner vital votes. <o:p style="text-shadow: none;"></o:p></span> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"> <br /></span></p><p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">"The debate that only the BNP is willing to have. The problem that none of the main parties have even been willing to mention. The greatest threat to the indigenous British people since Winston Churchill and I used our souped-up space Spitfires to defeat Ali Baba and his squadron of Forty Thieves on flying carpets. That threat </span><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">is all the damn Draculas.” <o:p style="text-shadow: none;"></o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <h1 style="text-shadow: none;"> <br /></h1><h1 style="text-shadow: none;"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">At a hastily convened press-conference in front of a giant pile of garlic with the Union Flag draped over it, the totally not-Nazi, chum-faced shitter outlined his sudden and growing alarm at what he has termed “A blood sucking Eastern European menace.”</span></h1> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">“I was taking an evening off from putting British people first” The goblin-headed, spam javelin continued “You know, relaxing over a light and bitter and polishing my war medals I was awarded for putting British pensioners first by buying their medals off them, when Bram Stoker’s Dracula comes on the telly. These Draculas coming over here and taking our women outraged me. Proper, hard working decent British people should be able to speak out on issues like this without shrill accusations of “monsterphobia!” and “afraid of the dark” from elitist liberals. Basically, my party will be working toward offering all Draculas voluntary repatriation back to <st1:country-region style="text-shadow: none;" st="on"><st1:place style="text-shadow: none;" st="on">Poland</st1:place></st1:country-region> or a stake through the heart.”</span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"> <br /></span></p><p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">It was pointed out to the walking visual obscenity that Dracula is a fictional vampire from <st1:place style="text-shadow: none;" st="on">Transylvania</st1:place>, a country that he does indeed return to at the end of the story.<span style="text-shadow: none;"> </span>The pus-brained hilarity gurgled that creepy t*rd’s burp of a laugh he kept doing on Question Time then mumbled something about being too busy being a serious, credible politician to ever watch any films or read any books. The condom full of custard opportunist was also at pains to point out that his new campaign was in no way prompted by watching Bram Stoker’s Dracula in its entirety and being so shitted up that he couldn’t sleep all night. <st1:city style="text-shadow: none;" st="on"><st1:place style="text-shadow: none;" st="on">Griffin</st1:place></st1:city> once again denied watching the whole film. Then he denied denying that he’d ever denied anything ever. The big denier.</span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"> <br /></span></p><p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">Alan Tichmarsh’s divvy cousin then mouth-spaffed on. “I want the old age pensioners of this tiny island to know that we acknowledge and are proud of all they achieved by winning two World Wars and one World Cup.We will close the floodgates. We will put our own old bats and walking corpses first by raising the state pension! Fuck knows how we’ll pay for it. Something about competing for resources and places in morgues and graves or something.”</span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"><o:p style="text-shadow: none;"> </o:p></span></p> <p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU"> <br /></span></p><p style="text-shadow: none;" class="MsoBodyText"><span style="text-shadow: none;" lang="EN-AU">“I and my party don’t hate anybody. In fact, we recently changed our membership policy to allow members of the British monster community to become token members so we don’t get in trouble with the law. Mr Hyde, and, errrrm, Jack the Ripper immediately joined up because we are the only party that recognizes their concerns over how quickly their community of Victorian <st1:city style="text-shadow: none;" st="on"><st1:place style="text-shadow: none;" st="on">London</st1:place></st1:city> has changed since all Draculas flocked there. And I’m mates with David Duke and he was a grand dragon, in the KKK, an organization well known for dressing up as spooky ghosts. Scared of monsters? It’s safe to say that some of by best friends are monsters.”</span></p></div>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-89677821336758301112009-09-11T23:05:00.012+01:002009-09-16T00:02:41.252+01:00History is Always Written by the VictorTo celebrate the release of The Beatles Rock Band Harmonix and MTV games have paid me to do another one of my critically acclaimed unauthorised biographies, but instead of talking about Mike Tyson I have to talk about another subject; which this time is The Beatles.<br />They paid me by leaving some chips in a bin on a day I was well hungry. Leaving them chips in a bin on a day I was well hungry was also how they commissioned me.<br />Here is my unauthorised biography of The Beatles that I've worked <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> hard on:<br /><br /><br />*Insert Title here*<br /><br />I am a proper biographer that does research, but like most music lovers I have never even heard of The Beatles so I did a research by listening to loads (one) of its songs with the Internet. It was called Free is a Bird and is basically a rip off of that Nelly Furtado one about being like a bird, but that Nelly Furtardo one is less shit because it doesn't sound like a tarted up demo tape that some money-hungry corpse fucker found down the back of the fridge when they were looking for money because they were well hungry for more money that day. Even though I don't like The Beatles now I have heard of one of its songs I won't let that influence this unauthorised biography, because I am a proper biographer.<br /><br /><br />Shit band The Beatles was born in Liverpool in 1960, which was the start of those swinging sixties. Those swinging sixties were the best and most revolutionary time ever, it must be true because smug old cunts that can't even remember being there or something keep going on about it; so it must be.<br />The Beatles was one of the most important things from those swinging sixties because it had the nicest haircut and the fanciest clothes. Nice haircuts and fancy clothes are the most important aspects of any social and cultural phenomenon and any other culture that tries to say they aren't are just jealous and backwards and deserved to be bombed by planes.<br /><br />The Beatles also did music too, but as I've already established, all its songs were more rubbish than Nelly Futardo. So I'm not really even gonna talk about them, except the ones Mongo Starrkey or whatever he was called sung on when he wasn't too busy being pissed out of his head and talking about fictional trains.<br /><br />After a short stint playing Skiffle alongside Paul Gadd in Hamburg The Beatles teamed up with legendary manager and closet gay Les Patterson. Les Patterson negotiated a record contract, then had the idea for Beatlemania and advised the band they should fuck off to America because there are way more overly sentimental, nostalgic idiots over there that won't ever shut up about it like it's still even slightly relevant in this modern day and age where everyone has a portable phone and a usb socket up their bumhole.<br /><br />So The Beatles did.<br />The Beatles played some rubbish songs for David Letterman at the Ed Sullivan Theatre and this went pretty well for The Beatles, especially because of The Beatles nice haircut and fancy clothes; but The Beatles biggest triumph was yet to come...<br /><br />At Shea Stadium in front of a crowd of screaming, low-expectations spastics The Beatles kicked the shit of World Heavyweight Champion, serial adulterer, too-fucking-thick-to-be-drafted-into the-Army Black-Supremacist Muhammad Ali.<br /><br />How could America not take this new great white hope to its heart?<br /><br />The Beatles was now the hugest and best band ever (apart from the songs - which are shit), but terrible times loomed on the horizon.<br /><br />The Beatles caused outrage in conservative America by saying that The Beatles "are more popular than Baseball now. A cunt's sport for cunts. Fuck me, it's worse than Cricket and Tennis and that one old Scottish bags play with a broom on ice combined." Conservative America reacted angrily and burnt all of the Beatles records.<br />Although, thinking about it, the joke is probably on conservative America, because they were essentially burning their own property which is probably worth a couple of bucks these days on the collectors market.<br /><br />The record burning made a terrible mess, but in a show of rare solidarity some old Scottish bags flew over and swept the ash onto some ice.<br /><br />The Beatles also lost the one steady hand that could guide them through this storm of controversy, as The Beatles manager, Les Patterson had tragically died from taking too much medicine.<br />Speculation and conspiracy theory surround the details of Patterson's death to this day, some say that Patterson was actually murdered and point to a single sequined glove and a mummified cancer-child's anus that were found at the scene as evidence of foul play.<br /><br />The Beatles decided to spend some time fannying about in India while they though of a new sound to make some new songs out of; all their old songs having been burnt by conservative America about a hundred and five words back.<br />The Beatles began practising Transcendental Meditation. Unbeknownst to The Beatles at the time, Transcendental Meditation is a form of mantra meditation designed to put cultural and spiritual tourist types into a deep trance leaving them susceptible to giving up their bank details, credit card number and Paypal login. It was in one such trance that The Beatles gave all the money it had and all the money it would ever make up to the mysterious and sinister guru Michael Jackson.<br />It was a shite state of a affairs that wouldn't be rectified until the ghost of Les Patterson travelled through time and delivered ironic justice to Michael Jackson by forcing him to die from taking too much medicine.<br />HA HA! Take <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> Jackson!<br /><br />Penniless, The Beatles limped back to Britain somehow to begin its new life as a destitute. Fortune smiled on the plucky band one day when it was foraging for stale chips in the bins around the back of ITV. The Beatles saw a sign that said it could make big money, and not by making songs (which hadn't worked out for The Beatles, all the songs that band made were well worse than having one of your testicles go sour - or part of your fanny go sour, if you're a girl). All The Beatles had to do was win The International Ugly Wife Contest - Hosted by Michael Aspel!<br /><br />The Beatles promptly married Linda Eastman, heiress to the amazing Eastman-Laird Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles Fortune and came fifth in the competition. This wasn't a massive problem as The Beatles new ugly-wife would be good for a few quid once her grandad croaked.<br /><br />To make ends meet until this happened The Beatles took to busking on top of shops. Busking on top of shops was a good plan because they were too high up for the rozzers to move them on and because "top of shops" sounds a little bit like Top of the Pops, which The Beatles were probably on once doing some songs, or messing about being high-spirited and cheeky or something. It was a bad plan because The Beatles guitar cases were too high up for people to chuck a quid in. British people had and still do have incredibly weak throwing arms because their diets are crap and bland from all the rationing that happened once when there was a war. And they can't do any sports. Apart from sailing and that one old Scottish bags play and they aren't even proper sports. One's a mode of transport and the other's tidying up on some ice.<br /><br />By the last day of busking The Beatles had made no money and looked proper scruffy because The Beatles couldn't afford to shave or buy clothes from anyone that wasn't also a homeless. In a cruel irony The Beatles played their last show on top of a Savile Row tailor's shop dressed in rancid tamp clothes.<br /><br />The Beatles moved to New York with Japanese sex pot, "cor wot a scorcher! We would, wouldn't we lads?!" page three stunner Yoko Ono. Thing were going well for The Beatles living in more obscurity until The Beatles were gunned down by massive prick Sihran Sihran.<br /><br />The Beatles were never heard of or discussed at length by an idiot again, until now; which makes you wonder why anyone would go to all the trouble of making a video game about The Beatles.<br /><br />Making this thing about The Beatles has taught me that nostalgia is the best thing ever, especially nostalgia for events that you had no part in at all. Nostalgia allows you to be all fuzzy headed and irrational, you can idealize the past in any way you see fit. Use the past to fit any agenda. Nostalgia helps you ignore or feel even worse about the problems of the present while absolving you of any responsibility for dealing with them; you can just say "Well things were better back then, lets just make it like that." Nostalgia means you don't have to deal with the myriad potential pitfalls or triumphs of the future. Just keep looking back. The future's made of coal, the past is made of gold.<br />Keep looking back, especially if you don't understand what was really going on.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-18601585770139164602009-08-26T18:23:00.023+01:002009-08-26T23:03:18.104+01:00New Career. New Dawn!I Have decided that after I resign from my job next week, my new job will be writing un-authorised biographies. Here is the first one I've done:<br /><br />Just Try and Sue Me You Destitute Rapist: The Mike Tyson Story.<br /><br />Mike Tyson was born in Brooklyn. I have been to Brooklyn and done sex with a girl there for research and it is a right dump. I have got a t-shirt that proves I have been there and done my research like a proper biographer.<br /><br />Mike Tyson has an effeminate voice that everyone makes fun of, but Cus D'Amato and that bloke that is off Fight Night 4 (which I have played loads for my research) saw that he had big meaty hands, a well muscley neck and a tiny, small head that would be hard to hit because it is so minuscule. They said to Tyson that he would probably be well good at hitting the boys that made fun of him and then be youngest ever World Champion. Also, someone nicked his bike and he said he wanted to give them a whupping, then he threw his Olympic Gold Medal in the river, didn't go in the army because he was initially too thick and then decided he was against the war; then he had a Rumble in the Jungle with George Foreman. Although I might be confusing that bit with Muhammad Ali, who was also a boxing man, but never done any rapes. Well, none that I found out about while I was doing my research playing Fight Night 4, having sex and skim reading Wikipedia entries.<br /><br />Mike Tyson was well poor and lived in that dump Brooklyn. All his mum could afford to feed him was Hamburger Helper (Hamburger Helper is a disgusting product full of Pit Bull hormones that Americans eat because they are all so fat and stupid). The hormones in Hamburger Helper are probably what made Mike Tyson's neck so muscley. So it's not all bad. Especially if you want a fat neck.<br /><br />Mike was a messy eater. He would get his dinner all 'round his mouth, on the floor and some sometimes went on his brother (who, incidentally grew up to be a doctor, which sort of blows the whole nature versus nurture argument wide open). Mike's mum would shout at him "Oooh Mike, you've made a right bloody pig's ear of your dinner!"<br /><br />Next, Mike's mum tragically died and Cus D'Amato took the youngster under his wing and legally became his Dad by deed poll.<br />Mike's training began and he took to the fight business like a particularly talented lamb to the slaughter. He loved boxing so much that he would even do it outside the ring in places like the street, night clubs, parks and public toilets. Unfortunately the rest of society is prejudiced against unsanctioned boxing displays down the park, pejoratively referring to his impromptu displays of the sweet science as "Some rowdy having a bit of a pagga."<br />It wasn't long before Mike was in trouble with the law.<br /><br />But not for anything as bad as what he did to that lady, which he definitely did and it's not even libellous when you write about it on your blog. Which I will do. Later...<br /><br />Mike trained his little self-pitying heart out for his first ever professional bout which was against the evil British genius Frank Bruno. Frank Bruno is a very bad man that used to hit his wife and lived with a teapot in a boxing ring at the bottom of his garden. Also, he was in loads of pantomimes, which just goes to show what a fucking cunt he is. The odds were stacked against Mike, but in the very first round he knocked Bruno clean out of the ring with a special finishing move he copied from Little Mac, a character from Nintendo's Mike Tyson's Punch Out!<br />Mike was youngest ever Heavyweight Champion! On his very first try!<br /><br />His next fights were against King Hippo, that fat Canadian stereotype, Geoff Capes, Daley Thompson and that French bloke that is well easy to beat. Mike won them all. He was a national hero and the media's most loved personality ever. The media just didn't even know enough good words to say about him, and the media knows loads of words because parts of it are newspapers, magazines and those ever-professional journalists.<br /><br />Then it all went sour. There's no way to sugar coat this, so if you are of a nervous disposition cover your ears now. It went sour because Mike Tyson raped Desiree Washington. A reprehensible act that he was sentenced to six years in prison for. He served three.<br /><br />In prison Mike was treated like a celebrity because he was one. And not just for being a boxer, he had joined the ranks of other famous sex criminals. Some other famous sex criminals are Ted Bundy, Fred West, Josef Fritzl, the Vikings and Wilmott Brown from EastEnders in the eighties.<br />Mike had joined their shit smeared ranks. He also had a go at copying Muhammad Ali by converting to Islam, but decided to go one better by signing up to real Islam, rather than that wacky, spaceship apocalypse for whitey Nation of Islam version that Cassius Clay got himself mixed up in for a time.<br /><br />They let Mike out after three years and he protested his innocence, because, well, you're pretty much obliged to if you're a rapist in the public eye. He also took to video taping his sexual encounters, not because all the punches he'd taken had rendered him unable to remember them for his wank bank, but so no one else could accuse him of raping them. Clever boy...<br /><br />Mike started training to regain his title as youngest World Champion ever. Before fights Cus D'Amato used to keep Mike in a cage, starve him and poke him with a stick with an angry Wasp glued on the end so that when they let him out his demeanour would be like that of an angry Pit Bull. This almost always worked, except for that time he got smashed by Buster Douglas. D'Amato's training methods really back-fired during Tyson's second fight with Evander Holyfield as the washed up former champ and convicted rapist was so starving and missing his Mum so much that all he could think about was those warm, glowy childhood times when she would sternly but affectionately (like a nice dinner time referee he could cuddle) chastise the pugilistic idiot savant for making a messy pig's ear of his dinner. In famished desperation he took several big old chomps out of poor Evander's ears, even though Evander isn't made out of Hamburger Helper and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have the ears of a pig. I can't be bothered to look it up and check, but I'm certain that Evander Holyfield is a man that does boxing, not a pig, stupid.<br /><br />After this failure, Tyson fired Cus D'Amato for his draconian training methodologies and also for dying several years before the fight actually happened. I know he was dead at this point in Tyson's career now because I did some fucking research and then cracked one out over one of my wank bank memories of doing sex with the girl in Brooklyn. Research! I think he had been dead for over ten years by this point in the story, but what would I know? I'm not <span style="font-style: italic;">his</span> biographer.<br /><br />America took Tyson's boxing licence away for biting (which is way worse than punching someone in the head until they are unconscious and possibly brain damaged for life, just ask Michael Watson) and the only place seedy enough to let him fight there was the Third World country "Great" Britain. He knocked out some guy that was so rubbish at boxing that he hadn't even seen any gloves before and sold advertising space on the soles of his boots, like some kind of worn out boxing cliche joke you might find in the back of The Ring Magazine. then he got knocked the fuck out by several proper journeyman types. Oh, and he also had two fights I should've mentioned earlier that he lost to famous British/Canadian Lennox Lewis.<br /><br />Lennox Lewis is every one's favourite British person from Canada and is way better than the lantern-faced, Tennis playing shitcunt Greg Rusedski (or however it is you spell his name).<br /><br />The build up to the fight was an angry affair because Mike Tyson ate one of Lennox Lewis' children. But at least he didn't rape them. Or his wife; which would be worse because you can always make another untainted child.<br /><br />Tyson then gave up the fight business even though he had wasted all his money on gaudy tat and gone bankrupt.<br /><br />He spent the rest of his days being a self-regarding whiner, one-man freak show and occasionally turning in the odd excruciating performance in otherwise decent films like The Hangover.<br /><br />So to sum it all up; Mike Tyson, for a time an amazing fighter, for his whole life a contemptible human being that you probably shouldn't put in your film because seeing a convicted sex attacker sing a silly song and do a little dance should never be funny, even in these mean spirited, cynical times.<br /><br />I think we can all identify with him. Well, we could if we'd all squandered a prodigious talent and a fortune and then spent time in clink for one of the most terrible things one human can do to another.<br /><br />The End...<br /><br /><br /><br />...Or is it?<br /><br /><br />Next week's un-authorised biography of a talented but compromised human being: Lee Malvo. what a great shot he was!E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-88297305899975558682009-06-28T20:14:00.009+01:002009-07-10T22:07:32.878+01:00Brass Eye is Worryingly Prescient Again<a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8122767.stm">If these people really believe that Heaven is an unending blissful paradise where you get to meet God and Jesus and also less important types like all your a</a><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8122767.stm">ncestors that are all dead and shit but still found the time to watch you masturbate because they are in Heaven and have magic powers</a><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8122767.stm"> now. Like you do also because you are dead and in Heaven now also</a>.<br /><br />Such is my understanding of the Bible.<br /><br />If they really are obligated to believe all that (such is my understanding of the Bible) then why are they trying to protect their lives? Surely they'd should be looking to get it out of the way so they can become angels with wings and sweet togas and the power to look down all the way from their clouds in outer-space and watch their descendants getting it down with their filthy, meaty genitals.<br /><br />Outer-space is where Heaven is by the way.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UTQTY9gUDuyvEb8CNJuROFn2JZcIj3YUaeXE3jAVXeGNpYfLYAfClUYumFjxHFYOcexgDXBDdfa0wNS-7zWB8ZKStCzux_XHgw2jnE7-XfCFzD4EeyAKtQtu4uoA-eSmsXv7jm9Y7mlV/s1600-h/Churchgunnonce.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_UTQTY9gUDuyvEb8CNJuROFn2JZcIj3YUaeXE3jAVXeGNpYfLYAfClUYumFjxHFYOcexgDXBDdfa0wNS-7zWB8ZKStCzux_XHgw2jnE7-XfCFzD4EeyAKtQtu4uoA-eSmsXv7jm9Y7mlV/s320/Churchgunnonce.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352462283939166642" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Pastor Ken Pagano doing his impersonation of a Daily Mail reader's worst nightmare:<br />A sweaty kiddie fiddler that packs heat.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-43876551115747266902009-06-19T23:13:00.009+01:002009-06-19T23:32:59.147+01:00ADVERTAINMENT!Elliot Armstrong, the owner/operator of this particular ScatterGum franchise has been far too busy thinking up evermore ingenious excuses to keep his manager off his back by doing something other than the things he should be working on to post pointless blogshite.<br /><br />Fortunately our readers won’t be left bereft because our good friends at Rhenium Press said they will pay ScatterGum a penny per page view if we chuck up this short extract from a forthcoming publication of theirs. ScatterGum stands to make about fifty pence out of this, too great an opportunity to pass up selling out on.<br /><br />Take it to the bridge and all that Rhenium press.<br /><br /><br /><br /> Dead Six Times Over With the Bullet Dogs<br /> A Colt Buchanan Western Yarn<br /> From The Desk of Suede M. Loco<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Colt Buchanan knew that fame and gunfightin’ were to be his dual vocations in life. Hell, he was even named after a kind of gun, which was itself named after a kind of wild and crazy horse. In Colt’s mind that’s what he was, deadly and untamed, a little reckless even.<br /><br />In 45 years time the Groffst brewery will re-christen its flagging Shclappenshlager brew in the hopes that a second baptismal will wash away the beer’s reputation for resembling piss in both taste and appearance. Back then folks weren’t too fond of the Dutch (that’s what they called the Germans at the time because American folk have always been about as dumb as a sackload of putrid clams) or anything that came from the same place as the Duchies. Groffst needed a name thatwas tough and American. They chose the name Colt because it was tough and American; they named it after a kind of gun and a kind of crazy horse. <br />What they didn’t name it after was Colt Buchanan, who wouldn’t ever be famous for gunfightin’. Or much anything else for that matter.<br />The brew formerly known as Shclappenshlager’s similarities to a hobo’s butt sweat on a hot day was forgotten because it was cheap and people are stupid, lazy, tasteless and fools for a cool name. Colt was forgotten because he was cheap, stupid, lazy and a sucker for a cool name. <br />His life story was kinda tasteless when you got right down to it.<br /><br />The juxtaposition between the two was so damn convenient it could’ve been made up by a lazy dime novel writer.<br /><br />Back East Colt had called himself Bernie “Knuckles” Mckracken. His bare-knuckle fighting career had been spectacular in that only six fights had left the fool with only six teeth in his head. He decided to call it quits on the fight game the night he found out that on future fight cards he would be known as Bernie “Shitnuts” McKracken, after that time “Tiny Tartan” MacTavish had slugged Bernie in the guts with such force that Bern’s bowels gave up the ghost and he crapped all over his own balls.<br /><br />The way Bernie saw it a man was only about as good as his name and if he could square off against a dude with his fists, lose and still get paid then the rewards for squaring off against a dude with a gun must be even greater. <br />Besides Colt Buchanan was a very good name. Especially for a gunfighter.<br /><br />He hadn’t reckoned that the consequences of losing against a dude with a gun could be a lead addition to his head. This was on account of him getting punched in the face so many times that he only had six teeth left in his head. Which is a lot of getting punched in the face in only six fights.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Award winning author of the "Badd Acid Voodoo Texas Chili Cookout Maaan" series of crime novels (currently the the only novels in the burgeoning Freakadecious Wire genre) and acclaimed after dinner speech maker, Suede M. Loco is a highly respected innovator and compulsive liar He works exclusively in the yarn telling media because “telling stories is a bitch, a bitch that’ll fuck and suck a buck ‘till his balls are shrivelled like a couple of sticky prunes. This buck ain’t got the strength in his back nor the juice in his pecker to take on a mistress. Luckily for Suede tellin’ stories is the bitch with the sweetest smellin’ cootch juice out there.”<br />When not masturbating whilst wearing a lab coat at work or doing writerly stuff, Suede M. Loco can often be found making up elaborate stories about his fighting prowess, training primates, crying in the street, writing hate mail to captive pandas, eating soup or inventing impractical crowd control weapons. He resides at his uncle's house in Stevenage, he is twenty seven and really likes writing about himself in the third person.<br /></span>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-33158139265116112732009-02-06T03:28:00.004+00:002009-02-06T03:56:27.284+00:00Jeni Barnett is a Fucking Idiot<a href="http://www.badscience.net/2009/02/legal-chill-from-lbc-973-over-jeni-barnetts-mmr-scaremongering/">More Here</a><br /><br /><a href="http://wikileaks.org/wiki/Bad_Science:_Jeni_Barnett_MMR_and_vaccination_slot_on_LBC_radio,_2009">Download the whole thing here if you think you can stand it</a><br /><br />I'm posting this because <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Streisand_effect">this</a> is what can happen when you get litigious with the Internet.<br />Please, if you are at all worried about the increasing influence that truculently obdurate idiots like Jeni have on society then spread this around a bit.<br /><br />To close, here's a couple of pearls from unbiased broadcaster and lover of informed debate Jeni Barnett:<br /><br />“I don't like anything to do with allopathic medicine.”<br /><br />"If you've had the Flu jab then how come you have a cold?"<br /><br />And as an alternative to vaccinating children from the killer communicable disease Measles.<br /><br />“Ban cars on the road, make them have 6 hours a day PE at school”<br /><br />Yes Jeni, because while they're doing all that lovely PE the kids will have no time to learn any of that awful scientific method (or anything else for that matter) and we'll have raised an entire generation of ignorant fuckwits like yourself that think a couple of minutes Internet "research" and an evening class on how to dish out water is as valid as a medical degree. If they are lucky enough to have learnt to read.<br /><br />Somehow.<br /><br />Maybe we could give them a drink with the diluted corpse of someone that knows how to read in it.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-14001151665101127902009-01-12T00:39:00.003+00:002009-01-15T20:31:21.450+00:00Shack Radio: I'm Glad My Parents Can't Read This.Dave: Where’ve you been chief? Up the park?<br /><br />Mark: Nah, it’s been snowing. Pain in the fucking balls. I’m sick of skidding about like an epileptic figure skater with broken shins. Anyone that gurgles like an excited toddler that’s been force-fed sherbet on a bouncy castle at the sight of snow is a dullard with nothing important to be getting on with. They deserve a kick right in the sack. Right. In. The. Sack.<br /><br />Dave: I dunno. It’s not that bad. And a kick in the nuts really fucking hurts sir. It’s happened to me a few times.<br /><br />Mark; What fucking swine would dare? I’ll tear their ligaments out!<br /><br />Dave: Oh no, this was years ago. Back when my family had two Commodore 64s; junior school. There were various assailants, one was a girl wearing pointy shoes. <br /><br />Mark: Fucking ouch. Do you think the repeated swelling the various assailants did to the region pre-puberty is what caused you to grow such a massive dappler? On the evidence of what I saw when we last went to the Japanese baths you should be thanking that girl and possibly be offering to slip her some of the resulting length. Is she on Facebook? Do you want me to get in touch with her for you? Something along the lines of “If you pay me fifty quid my mate Dave will chuck one up you.”<br /><br />Dave: You’re trying to pimp me out again you cunt. She was fucking ugly, I’d rather be kicked in the balls again.<br /><br />Mark: I’ve not kicked anyone in the balls for over two decades…<br /><br />Dave: I haven’t punched anyone in the mouth for years… <br /><br />Mark: Dave, you know we’ve been friends for over thirteen years…<br /><br />Dave: You can fuck off. I’m not letting you kick my cock off.<br /><br />Mark: Oh come on. What would it take for you to let me? I’ll tell you what, you let me kick you in the cock until you can’t feel it, then you punch me in the mouth until it’s numb and by way of recompense I’ll suck you off. It’s not gay if neither of us can feel it, they said so on the news…E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-86883246611887152962008-12-08T22:26:00.037+00:002009-02-07T21:07:05.036+00:00Scattergum is Pleased to Announce<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMark%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; 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margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style=""> </span>A new semi-regular feature from our guest commentator Terrance Littleknob.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">
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<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhPQCqzf6N4aSzK6WhHbLaxJHMyMxdHP9dkaA9w024F2kmz4pajdcYqdnV4CVj4ZQT-p9EcKTEN4FAIhl-EDby-TErVTUYzqACPZ6xhcCefAnhvwO64ACWYeM_hQcGa6MKXmponqpq885/s1600-h/terry+littleknob.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhPQCqzf6N4aSzK6WhHbLaxJHMyMxdHP9dkaA9w024F2kmz4pajdcYqdnV4CVj4ZQT-p9EcKTEN4FAIhl-EDby-TErVTUYzqACPZ6xhcCefAnhvwO64ACWYeM_hQcGa6MKXmponqpq885/s200/terry+littleknob.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277553717105182290" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Irascible, Irreverent, Irightfuckingcunt
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<br /></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">For over twenty years this columnist has made a living mentioning that back in 2001 I published a novel called "This Country's Going to the Dawgs!" about how The-Liberal-PC-Fire Brigade left has been deliberately eroding the freedoms and Yuman rights our grandfathers fought to uphold in two World Wars and one World Cup by insisting those rights apply to everybody and not just white males aged 30 to 65 that don't like blacks or gays, or worse still, black gays serving in Her Majesty's armed forces.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">Like all white males I'm the victim of a campaign of oppression perpetrated by a ruling cabal of Bi-sexual-Feminazi-Town Hall Talebans that would to see me banged up in the gulag up for thought crimes relating to weekly rubbish collections, wanting to persecute gypsies and insisting they build more prisons that aren't like a trip to Butlins to cage <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p>all scum that commit any crime. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">"'ere Terrance!" I hear you shout "Wouldn't that mean that you'd be banged up by the ZaNu-Lie-bore Stasi for tirelessly pointing out the slow death of Great <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p>British democracy? Isn't it a little hypocritical to want all lawbreakers <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p>banged up?"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"> No, I say; our granfathers fought the Nazis at Agincourt in two World Wars and one World Cup to uphold the Great British traditions of </span><span style="font-size:100%;">persecuting gypsies and</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p> locking people up that disagree with you!<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><u1:p></u1:p>
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">Because no one has read my novel that I published in 2001 called "This Country's Going to the Dawgs!” I can tenuously link it to current <u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p>events to prove that I was right back in 2001 when I published my novel "This Country's going to the Dawgs!"
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">When I praised what Mrs Thatcher had done for local communities by breaking up the Anarcho-Gay-Communist Union influenced coal and steel industries in my novel “This Country’s Going to the Dawgs!” that I published in 2001, I didn’t contradict myself at all later on when I called the people still living in those communities “Subhuman drug and Special Brew addled sponging chav scum; too busy spawning generation after generation of moronic spaz kids they can use to claim more dole and occasionally fake kidnap for reward money than get off their fat, greasy arses and look for non-existent work!” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">I was too busy crowing in my Daily Mail column about the revelations of Max Moseley’s sex life to be a hypocrite. The press, and especially, The Daily Mail should be free trample all over an individual like Max Moseley's private life because he was having kinky Nazi sex games and his grandfather was a noted British Fascist; the leader of the knuckle dragging Blackshirts no less. Which makes Max Moseley’s filthy Nazi themed sex games all the more disgusting and important for the public to know about! There are children that watch Formula One!
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">Children!
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<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">Even though Gordon and Polly Toynbee's (Polly Toynbee only hates this humble correspondent because her obvious sexual attraction to him is at odds with the lesbian beliefs she decided to adopt while she was learning facts at some Godforsaken-liberal subversive university - I don't fancy her though, even though I mention her all the time) censorship addicted-Stalinesque-Scottish Mafia-freedom hating-nanny state wants to keep ordinary, decent people like you from knowing and masturbating about what Max Moseley was up to.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">There are children that like Formula One, so if you don't agree with a private individual's sex life being strewn around for public titillation, you're a child hating paedophile and worse than Karen Matthews.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">Children!
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">And if any namby-pamby, Guardianista do-gooders try and tell you that the Daily Mail once published an article titled “Hurrah for the Blackshirts” they are lying. Probably as some conspiracy to stop ordinary decent white people from smoking in operating theatres. All because these weak willed woolly-liberal sheep are desperate to appease Elf and Safety-Gay-Midget-Islamo-Fascist terrorists on benefits that have fallen for the great climate change swindle! It beggars belief!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHi2NIjq9H2cbcN4o3IRKY37k_NbzXtVM8Wvu8SiANaYKRlWJLuk6U_tjnGB-nivq4TDeAqyFzv7ZjOWsO6aZRMNY_JEuK2Rpc4Xh0ei3xAGzpPTlhBZkCb0lGIBLk5f-1GCM7JvI_h8Vq/s1600-h/graph.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHi2NIjq9H2cbcN4o3IRKY37k_NbzXtVM8Wvu8SiANaYKRlWJLuk6U_tjnGB-nivq4TDeAqyFzv7ZjOWsO6aZRMNY_JEuK2Rpc4Xh0ei3xAGzpPTlhBZkCb0lGIBLk5f-1GCM7JvI_h8Vq/s320/graph.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277555461227233250" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><u1:p></u1:p></span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >A Graph Plotted From Made up Data, Designed To Dupe Credulous Idiots</span><span style="font-size:100%;">.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;">I have a few thousand copies of the novel I published in 2001 called “this Country’s Going to the Dawgs!” left that were saved from being pulped </span><span style="font-size:100%;">by Eco-Terrorists</span><span style="font-size:100%;">and and "recycled" into mansions for Asylum seeker-Mad Mullah Muslim clerics -most likely at the taxpayer's expense courtesy of Moron Clown and Alistair Dar-lying – chuck us eighty quid and one's yours. It’s better than whatever lowest common denominator rubbish Clarkson is chucking at the council estate proles this Christmas (if they don’t ban Christmas)..<u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="font-size:100%;"><u1:p></u1:p>If I hadn't just now, you couldn't make it up!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="">
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<br /></p><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Terrance Littleknob is a journalist, author and broadcaster. For most of the year he lives in Florida because Florida is the best place to accurately drool out a twice weekly cretin-cast for little Englander twats based on his his long-distance, made up opinions on the state of Modern Britain. He has nothing to do with the real-life journalist, author and broadcaster Richard Littlejohn; except they are both gleefully obdurate pus-brained spam javelins.</span></span>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-79411204073271306172008-11-22T01:43:00.013+00:002008-11-22T03:46:11.282+00:00Fuck me, This Took Fifteen Years to Make?! A Fair and Balanced Track-by-Track Review of Chinese Democracy.<span class="wallmeta" style="font-size:100%;">Elliot Armstrong commented at 00:24 22 November</span><div class="walltext"><div id="text_expose_id_492764031f5e18b50034965"><span style="font-size:100%;">It's what the inside of a fat, middle-aged ginger man that thinks it's still 1993 and he's still the biggest rock star in el Mundo's brain sounds like, if you're interested. Which you aren't. Fuck you. </span><span class="wallmeta" style="font-size:100%;">
<br />
<br />Elliot Armstrong commented at 00:32 22 November</span><div class="walltext"><div id="text_expose_id_492764031fd5e2a16505558"><span style="font-size:100%;">HA! First ballad. Fucking hilarious. P-O-W-E-R-B-A-L-L-A-D-!
<br />Does Axl Rose actually know what his voice sounds like now? It's like an X Factor retard doing a karaoke of November Rain and being strangled at the same time.
<br /></span></div></div></div></div><div class="walltext"><div id="text_expose_id_492763d8211e20d39999938"><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMark%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype></span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><span class="wallmeta">Elliot Armstrong commented at 01:22 22 November</span><div class="walltext"><div id="text_expose_id_49276a09791329a04874252">Spanish guitar over a fourteen year old trip-hop beat that's been sped up a bit but still sounds really pedestrian, tinkling piano keys, strings and some chugging riffery. Over the top of all this Axl is trying to nail falsetto. A decade and a half ago idiots thought the future would sound like this. A decade and a half later, some really terrible things have happened and the future turned out to be a bit shit, but at least it didn’t have a Slash style solo rammed clumsily down its gullet.</div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Elliot Armstrong commented at 01:27 22 November<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The strings are back and they're epic. In fact, this whole song is epic.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">If you're a gurgling spanner factory worker that likes Wrestling and lives in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Coventry</st1:place></st1:city>.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="wallmeta">Elliot Armstrong commented at 01:36 22 November</span></span><div class="walltext"><div id="text_expose_id_49276403212187474302839"><span style="font-size:100%;">This one actually sounds like the original Guns and Roses doing one of the numerous filler tracks on that double album release they did. Well done Axl, you've got your band of session arses to sound almost as "Will this do?" as the "classic" Guns and Roses lineup did back then. Kudos on this one.
<br />
<br />Elliot Armstrong commented at 01.39 22 November
<br />Poke this. Another interminable ballad. This is just boring now, rather than being funny or even slightly amusing; much like these posts about it. I'm going to do something more interesting. You should stop reading this bollocks and go and do something more interesting too.</span>
<br /></div></div></div></div>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-51905443730616475582008-11-20T20:47:00.010+00:002009-08-01T18:46:19.555+01:00Shack Radio: Konnie Huq and Bitterness<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMark%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMark%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceName"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="PlaceType"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dave: Where’ve you been chief? We were starting to worry about you. You didn’t get locked up for trying to kick the faces off dogs down the park again did you? You do know we’ve got a show to write?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mark: Nah mate. I went to see my personality doctor; like everyone said I should.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dave: Ah, good. Did he tell you to take some time off or something? Have a little break?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mark: Something like that. He said that I should join some clubs or groups. Meet new people that share my interests. Distract myself from my spiteful, misanthropic, narcissistic and self-destructive behaviours. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dave: Sounds like good advice. How’s it been working out for you then?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mark: My spiteful, narcissistic and self-destructive behaviours are my interests. And I fucking hate people. So I fired the useless, thick, cock-socket and stayed up for three days eating bzp pills and boozing. I decided I’d better chuck it in for a bit when pus started to come out of one of my tear ducts. Have a look. It’s fucking grim. Pus covered eyeball! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">So I had a small sleep, and now here I am, talking to you.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dave: I’m worried about you sir. Put my mind at rest and tell me you did at least something constructive with some of your time.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mark: I spent seven hours printing out pictures of Konnie Huq I found on the internet. HA HA! I'm a genius!
<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Dave: You fucking idiot. Did you do any work on the show? All I can see here is a load of pictures of Konnie Huq with ballbags crudely drawn on her chin. Oh fucking hell; you still don’t have a thing about her running in the Olympic relay?
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Olympics was months ago, are you going to drop this Konnie Huq, tool of Communist oppression thing? You know you’re in the minority on this one. Everyone wants to chuck one up Konnie Huq. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mark: And that’s why I’m the last moral man on this dying planet. Having sex with Konnie Huq would be like making warm, tender, gentle, sweet and above all consensual love with that tank from <st1:place st="on">Tiananmen Square</st1:place>. In an obscenely opulent hotel room made only of the tears of the families of people that <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> has executed with a bullet in the back of the head. On the forth of June. Whilst the Beastie Boys stare accusation from the corner of the obscenely opulent hotel room made only of the tears of the families of people that <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">China</st1:place></st1:country-region> have executed with a bullet to the back of the head.
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Beastie Boys are now protesting about the occupation of Tibet; but you are swathed in bed sheets woven like the finest of silks from the eternally lost potential of cruelly discarded female children; victims of uncaring misogyny and the cold one child only dictates of The Party. Konnie Huq wants you to pollute her rivers and exploit her child work force. She’s whispering sweet nothings to assure you that not many, if any, people died in that earthquake a while back. She wants you to lay your pipeline in her African oil fields. You can see her Great Walls from space and she fucking loves it</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And while all this is going on you are saying:</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“Nerr nerr. I don’t care about your moral objections to totalitarianism and state censorship or your Falun Gong beliefs.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">I’m shagging Konnie Huq. Look at me everyone! I’m shagging Konnie Huq! There must be a prize or money or some kind of recognition for shagging Konnie Huq! If I wasn’t you would be! You’d be right where I am right now! Shagging Konnie Huq! But you’re not because I am! I’m shagging Konnie Huq! Look at me!” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">And you are sticking your tongue out at everyone that has had any objections to Communist China’s policies on anything ever whilst you just keep pumping harder and harder, always pumping away at the lovely yet forever morally tainted Miss Huq’s cervix. The corrupt, godless, inscrutable, red-pinko commie bitch!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Actually chief, I think I need to nip off to the toilets for a little while...</span>
<br /></p> E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-8367488861456569762008-11-15T04:59:00.002+00:002008-11-15T05:20:54.462+00:00Don't Despair KidsThere is more Shack Radio (the radio show you can read using your eyes) on its way.<br /><br />It will feature hilarious jokes and japery covering a wide range of subjects, up to and including:<br /><br />Why Konnie Huq is a tool of Chinese state oppression and why it would be immoral to shag her right up any of her lovely hole places.<br /><br />Why living to thirty years of age really isn't that much of an achievement in this modern day and age.<br /><br />How Dave's over sized genitalia is linked to the childhood bollock abuse he suffered at the feet of various assailants in the school playground.<br /><br />Dung farming in the middle ages.<br /><br />Making deliberately unlikable playlists of songs that will never work together and how it ties into that time you deliberately broke a girl from Michigan's heart.<br /><br />Our long-overdue musings on the Brand/Woss Sachsgate affair. Weeks after everyone is bored by it! Topical!<br /><br /><br />All this and slightly more coming soon. Laziness and drink problems permitting.<br /><br />We might even record an episode of it at some point. So keep your eyes and ears open!<br /><br />Warmest regards,<br /><br />E. S. Armstrong.<br /><br />(I was going to post my notes for the Shack Radio scripts rather than this; but even though they are more amusing than this shameless self-promoting post, trusted friends assure me that posting your notes about a thing that doesn't even exist yet is pretentious wankery of the very worst kind).E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-55456548963781243742008-11-07T18:52:00.002+00:002008-11-07T18:58:00.695+00:00A Short Note That Might Indicate How Much I Care About American Politics Right NowWell done Barry Hussien-O on being crowned King Of 'merca.<br /><br />Commiserations, Grampa Ovenchips. Better luck next year.<br /><br />And Well done to 'merca, for overcoming hundreds of years of prejudice and electing your first Catholic monarch!<br /><br />You all deserve a patronising pat on the head from the rest of the World!E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-74754909349025866032008-10-12T17:06:00.013+01:002009-08-01T18:41:53.641+01:00Ministry of Negative Male Sterotypes<div style="text-align: left;">Dave: Where’ve you been chief? Why haven’t you got a shirt on?<br /></div><br />Mark: I’ve been down the park looking for blokes to scrap with. LIKE A MANLY BLOKE! WALLOP! It’s fucking cold out there though. Check my nipples one time. It’s like I’ve got two engorged clitori on my chest. Which is apt, because all the ladies were all engorged when they saw me with no shirt on being all manly down the park. WALLOP!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVivaWA29ykeDu8hg5ybW3v__i7wJP5S5KEjEjINefkrwhGqe2Ph0H2Mgx52MPr34ibRWJnPUgRoAW4TJFcuVc_jCOBch3aRr57uF6fBa8ydmBy_6P71NupAZSzZ4gCeGeu97U4TWxE5r/s1600-h/12102008053.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiVivaWA29ykeDu8hg5ybW3v__i7wJP5S5KEjEjINefkrwhGqe2Ph0H2Mgx52MPr34ibRWJnPUgRoAW4TJFcuVc_jCOBch3aRr57uF6fBa8ydmBy_6P71NupAZSzZ4gCeGeu97U4TWxE5r/s400/12102008053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256299677268458786" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></div>Dave: You’ve gone even more fucking wrong you cunt. Calm down, we’ve got work to be getting on with.<br /><br />Mark: I can’t I’m all pent up and frustrated. Aside from yours and mine, I haven’t seen any tits in fucking ages.<br /><br />Dave: That reminds me; I had a great idea for breast enlargement without surgery earlier. I’m thinking of fucking off to the patent office instead of doing the show today.<br /><br />Mark: Sounds exciting chief. You gonna clue me into it? I won’t nick it, I’m far too lazy to be arsed.<br /><br />Dave: I know that chief. What I was thinking is that the ladies would pay a really tall bloke like Peter Crouch or something to walk around behind them, arms outstretched as high as the lanky fucker can get them In each hand they’re holding a chain; at the bottom of the chain, perfectly positioned to hang in front of the lady’s own inadequate charms is a bauble shaped like a breast. The woman will be able to select the size shape and colour and everything. What do you reckon?<br /><br />Mark: I think you’ve basically stolen Reeeve’s and Mortimer’s diet board idea and twisted into an excuse to think about breasts. How are you going to make any money out of this? Surely the woman would just give her money to Peter Crouch? Admit it, you just wanted a legitimate excuse to go to the patent office and talk about tits again. What was that last idea you went up there with? Tit cricket?<br /><br />Dave: Basically you go to a crowded place filled with girls, a club or busy pub and try to feel up their tits. It’s one run for a casual or accidental brushing of the tits, four runs for grabbing one tit and for six runs you go for a full on grope of both fun bags. Ahh, tits, freckled tits...<br /><br />Mark: It's a Bisto moment for sure. But you took that to the patent office? Fucksakes Dave. You’re welcome to go to the patent office instead of doing the show; what you just said is well racist. You’re fucking suspended.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">*Credit where it's due. Written in collaboration with Sir David Halfpenny MBE. So once again, if you don't like it, write to that cunt.*</span></div>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-61773960991031506262008-10-08T22:00:00.008+01:002008-11-21T23:02:11.324+00:00Shack Radio: A New Nadir?Dave: where've you been chief? Up the park again?<br /><br />Mark: Nope, that woman I was following has stopped jogging for some reason; the lazy fat cow. I've been to see my personality doctor.<br /><br />Dave: Therapist eh? What's the diagnosis this week?<br /><br />Mark: No change. I'm still a cunt apparently. What've you got there?<br /><br />Dave: A report.<br /><br />Mark: Report for what?<br /><br />Dave: That course the boss sent us on?<br /><br />Mark: What the one about not raping things? That sensitivity training bollocks? With <br />that cunt and his pc, do-gooder, liberal no smoke without fire brigade ideas. That <br />arsehole buggered belief.<br /><br />Dave: Remember when we buggered that beggar?<br /><br />Mark: Isn’t that why the judge ordered us to take that course? Well that and my thing with that car, but in all fairness to me, I fucking hate cars and that garage was locked; those two cleaners had no business just barging in like that. <br /><br />Dave: Obviously. Anyways, this is the final report from that course the boss sent us on to be better radio presenters. The guy has listened to a few shows post course to evaluate how well we’ve done with his advice. <br /><br />Mark: Oh yeah I remember that dude, nice guy. Gave us all that meat flavoured <br />Yogurt. What does he say?<br /><br />Dave: Well he seems happy enough with me chief. He says I’ve a voice and a presenting style very much in the mould of John Peel, but without the good taste in music. Apparently I give off a fusty, benevolent uncle vibe; and then for some reason he’s written “Not the kind of uncle that diddles your underlings when Ma and Pa go out!” in big red letters. <br /><br />Mark: Weird, but splendid work chief. How awesome did he think I am?<br /><br />Dave: Not good news I’m afraid. He says your constant use of foul language betrays a tiny vocabulary and low intellect.<br /><br />Mark, Well? What does the cunt expect? I left school at sixteen. Is that all?<br /><br />Dave: ‘fraid not. He wants you to stop addressing the listeners as “You people”, boasting about how you have plenty of money, threatening to rob your local post office on air because you got another letter from Christian Aid asking for money, claiming we have a surprise guest and then playing that recording of that time you strangled a puppy; and you can’t do any more outside broadcasts from the local Off Licence or promote them in any other way to get free booze. Oh, and you’re to stop opening the show with the phrase “Ayup cuntybollocks.”<br /><br />Mark: Ayup cuntybollocks is a term of endearment between me and the listner. And I’ll have you know that the Drink Stop carries the finest selection of fancy booze, fags and dried meat snacks in all of Hertfordshire. It’s a site of local cultural importance.<br /><br />Dave: That’s not all. You did that Agony Uncle thing when I was on holiday that time. He heard it. Apparently some poor kid called up to ask advice about his over-bearing mother; you called him a “punk-ass bitch” and your advice was that he “put a beatdown on that honky ho she won’t forget, you feel me?” This guy reckons you are nowhere near middle class enough to get away with being a faux-mie.<br /><br />Mark: Faux-mie? Fuck him, I’d been watching episodes of The Wire back to back that week. Some of the language is bound to rub off on a G. Did he report anything else?<br /><br />Dave: Now remember dude that these are his words not mine. Well, not even words exactly. He’s finished up by drawing a picture of you with a turd poking out of the corner of your mouth and then next to that is one of those less than signs from maths, and then next to that is a picture of George Lamb, except he’s drawn a vagina on Lamb’s face instead of a mouth. Next to the picture of Lamb is another less than sign and next to that is a photo of some rancid prawns in a rusty bucket. On top of the prawns is some sick. Under your picture in big red letters he’s written “Actually shitter than George Lamb!?!” <br /><br />Mark: Fuck me…<br /><br />Dave: On the plus side the likenesses of you and Lamb are pretty good…<br /><br />Mark: I think I need to call my personality doctor…<br /><br />Dave: No need for that, this’ll cheer you up, it’s something I was thinking about while you were out. We could talk about it on the show if you like. You know how Protestants talk about “No Popery?”<br /><br />Mark: If you are going where I think you are going with this, please stop.<br /><br />Dave: What have they got against those little bowls of nice smelling dried bits of plant that your nan has scattered around her sheltered accommodation?<br /><br />Mark: I really do need to call my personality doctor now…<br /><br />Dave: It’s not that bad chief, cheer up you miserable bastard.<br /><br />Mark: I’m not down at all; I’m just supposed to call my personality doctor every time I feel like doing knife-crime on some shit pun making div-kid.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-24445996839763759502008-10-03T21:03:00.004+01:002008-11-21T23:02:36.947+00:00Shack Radio: This was Dave's idea.Dave: Urgh! What the fuck is that all over your boots chief?<br /><br />Mark: Dogs. Dead dogs.<br /><br />Dave: Been up the park again?<br /><br />Mark: Walked through there on the way back from the post office. That nice tour guide we met last year finally got around to sending us the photos from our trip. They’re on a usb stick. Cunt didn’t pay any postage though. I got fined an extra pound on top.<br /><br />Dave: Has your computer even got a usb port?<br /><br />Mark: Fucking hell Dave, I’m from the 21st Century. I’ve got a usb port up my bumhole if I fucking need one.<br /><br />Dave: All right, all right. Which of our trips last year are the pictures from?<br /><br />Mark: Switzerland. Remember the bloke that thought we were Ant and Dec that you told to fuck off when he asked for our autographs?<br /><br />Dave: Put us into the boot of his car at knife point? Little bits of spit came out when he spoke? <br /><br />Mark: That’s the cunt. Why did you tell him to get fucked? <br /><br />Dave: Because we’re far more handsome than PJ and Duncan. Anyway, it’s your fault he put us in the boot. You’re the cunt that hit him. That was sweet, bang on target chief. I could still take you in a fight if it came to it between us though. He must have known we didn’t have our passports on us though.<br /><br />Mark: Agreed, You riled him first though. That’s why we ended up in his boot. He was obviously a sociopath, he was hardly likely to and, in fact didn’t, stop and ask us if we wanted to go to Switzerland and, oh, by the way do you boys have your passports? I thought it was going to be a repeat of that time we ended up in Belgium getting bummed by reformed paedos.<br /><br />Dave: Oh no chief, Switzerland was better than that. Hence the pictures. Although the trip home was shit without passports. Hitchhiking, hiding in those containers. Scary as shit. Would’ve been even scarier if we hadn’t met that dude that used to sell alternative remedies in the Balkans, the Ex-forces guy from Bosnia, Ahmet? Sydur’s mate? If it hadn’t been for him we wouldn’t have got back so quickly and I’d have missed Home and Away. I fucking love Home and Away. It’s great.<br /><br />Mark: For fucks sake. You do have about the shittest taste in just about <br />everything. I don’t know why I’m still friends with you sometimes. You’re <br />such a cunt.<br /><br />Dave: I think the answer to that is in the question chief.<br /><br /><br />*All credit where it's due goes to Sir David Halfpenny MBE, this was his idea. If you don't like it blame him. The cunt.*E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-84905995022364878722008-09-20T02:04:00.003+01:002008-11-21T23:03:26.081+00:00Shack Radio: Stolen punchlines can still be rubbish.Dave: You know how it’s all been a bit taboo to fancy that Sharleen Spiteri?<br /><br />Mark: What? The Chris Evans thing?<br /><br />Dave: The Evans thing, obviously. But there’s that whole other thing about being scared to admit to people that you fancied her a little bit. You know? Not much, just a little bit, even though everyone you know fancied her a little bit. But no one at the time could ever admit it. Because if you ever did that during the mid to late nineties you’d basically be admitting that you shared similar tastes to Chris Evans <br /><br />Mark: Yeah, I remember when that was on the front of Heat. They never followed that one up much. What happened to Sharleen?<br /><br />Dave: She got fat, didn’t she? Trouble is, by that point she couldn’t even get on the front cover of Heat if she got shin and forehead cellulite and turned up to a celebrity kids’ preview of the next pile of Pixar bullshit with thick Devonshire custard running down her inner thigh into the mouth of some disillusioned kid wearing skinny jeans and twatty pointy shoes that thinks pretending to be a junkie that needs to suck custard from Sharleen Spiteri’s leg to maintain his addiction to being in Heat will give his band (that are “heavily influenced by The Libertines” But “Not in that Way”) some kind of kudos with the kind of cunt that reads Heat and that the exposure from his fake-junkie custard sucking will skyrocket his band’s video onto TMF and maybe even 4Music. <br />What do you think happened next chief?<br /><br />Mark: I don’t know. I don’t care.<br /><br />Dave: Oh come on. It’s obvious.. She saw the way the wind was blowing with the whole Any Winehouse/Duffy shit copying of sixties women singers while having a beehive hairdo, so she started copying sixties women singers and she sported a beehive hairdo. She was copying them sixties women singers like a bastard, and as an added bonus, she was shit. But as you can imagine, it got her on Jools Holland. There’s a point to this, by the way chief.<br /><br />Mark: I was just about to ask if this was another anec-dave. Seeing as it probably is; when is this going to end?<br /><br />Dave: No it’s quite good this chief, worth sticking around for. <br /><br />Mark: I’m sure, but can you finish early or something? Like some premature cock-gasm, but out of your mouth? <br /><br />Dave: Shut up.<br /> Still I saw her on Jools Holland. All fat, very shit and sporting a beehive hairdo and I thought, I still would, you know? Wallop! Spunk up right on her back! So I suppose my question is, if there has to be a question, is do you think it’s still taboo to fancy Sharleen Spiteri,? Bearing in mind that on the plus side she’s no longer shagging Evans, but on the negative side she somehow managed to become even shitter musically since her days with Texas and she's gotten fat.<br /><br />Mark: Is this turning into one of those times where it’s not a competition, but, it is really?<br /><br />Dave: “Not a competition, but, it is really?” I like it chief. What are we competing over?<br /><br />Mark: Who can say the crudest thing about Sharleen Spiteri, even though she’s all fat and even shitter musically than ever. <br />So “Wallop” and “Spunk up on her back” are the best you can come up with, yeah? <br /><br />Dave: Yeah. That’s about all I want to do to her now she’s all fat and somehow even shitter musically than ever.<br /><br />Mark: Well then in the interests of winning the competition, I’d like to suggest that instead of feeling any “wallop” or however you described your inept cervix poking earlier, with me she’d feel like all her orifices were alleys that had been smashed up by hooligans several times over. And instead of “spunk up on her back” she’d feel like all her organs, including her brain, had been glossed all shiny in gloopy white Mark essence. I’d even do it after you had; does that win me the competition?<br /><br />Dave: You’d do all that to Sharleen Spiteri? Just to win a competition?<br /><br />Mark: I’d say I would.<br /><br />Dave: You fucking pervert. She’s all fat. And she is shitter musically than she’s ever been ever. And she has a shit beehive hairdo. And she’s shagged Chris Evans; a stain like that never goes away. It’s taboo to ever admit to fancying Sharleen Spiteri, you stupid fucking pervert.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-40300193624259936872008-09-17T21:29:00.010+01:002008-11-21T23:04:02.365+00:00Shack Radio: The Interview.<meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMark%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; 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margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Where’ve you been chief?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>It’s 7.00pm on a Wednesday, I’ve been down the park laughing at the joggers.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Fair enough; I’ve been trying to find a guest to interview for next week’s show. This week’s was a bit shit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>We had a guest?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Yeah, technically, you count as a guest and you were shit. I could tell you how you count as a guest, but it’s complicated and I’m tired. Needless to say, you were a bit shit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Fuck you. Who’ve you got then? Chris Morris?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>I asked him, but it turns out he still hates us. Sent us a poo in the post by way of a reply. I’ve been trying to get that Mika arsehole. Big entertainment news story about him this week. You know him?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Not personally. He did the Grace Kelly song right? Sings like Freddie Mercury?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>That’s the cunt. You hear about what happened to him?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Nah, what’s he been up to?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Fuck me; you really are a pop culture retard. It’s been all over the Internet. The poor cunt has been officially declared the World’s most obsolete, superfluous fucknut by the U.N. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Lucky boy. I dream of that kind of recognition, how’d he manage that?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>He didn’t have to do anything; Freddie Mercury came back to life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Fuck off! How’s that supposed to have happened? He bought himself back?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Nah, weirder than that chief. Out-going President of South Africa Thabo Mbeki bought him back. Had something to prove about Anti-retroviral drugs being shit and racist before they kick him out of office.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>You’re such a fucking liar. Come on then cunt; tell me how he bought Freddie Mercury back to life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>The holistic way mate. He chucked his corpse in a hot bath full of garlic. That cured the Aids that Mercury died of. They’re controlling the unrelated HIV he’s still got with some vitamin pills they got off a German. It’s alternative medicine so it must work way better than anything you’ll get from those profiteering big pharmaceutical companies that sell proper drugs that have been trailed and peer-reviewed and all that bollocks. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><o:p> </o:p></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>But why Mercury? You’d think the President of South Africa would have better things to do than bring dead popsters back to life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Good question, but he has a point to prove; why not pick the World’s most famous AIDS victim to prove it. Plus Mbeki fucking loves Queen, he was even happy when they played <st1:place st="on">Sun City</st1:place>, even though he couldn't go.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Natch. <span style=""> </span>So how is any of this Mika’s problem? Surely Mercury will just go back to Queen.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Nah mate, Mercury found out about We Will Rock You the Musical. Did his fucking bollocks. Kicked Ben Elton’s cock off and gave <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Bryan</st1:place></st1:city> May nits to get his own back, Elton’s balls went sour and everything.
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">He won’t be going back to Queen; he’s sticking as a solo artist. And that’s this Mika Kid’s problem; with Mercury back and solo there’s just no need for Mika to exist, let alone rewrite Fat Bottom Girls another time. The U.N has officially declared him a useless cunt and they want him culled.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>Shit. So you think we can get an interview with him? <span style=""> </span>Would be a bit of a coup that one.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>Can’t get in touch with him. They reckon he’s hiding out in <st1:place st="on">North Wales</st1:place> with some Hindus he’s managed to trick into thinking that he’s a cow with TB.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>The thick cunts. Why don’t we just interview Mercury then instead?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Mark: </b>I asked. Even though Mercury’s totally all well happy about being alive again and all that, he still thinks you’re a massive wanker. Bit rich of him really, to my knowledge you’ve never indirectly supported apartheid. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">
<br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b style="">Dave: </b>But I have sported a really shit ‘tache though. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-80590374656150650792008-09-16T19:54:00.002+01:002008-09-16T19:56:56.798+01:00I Am Legend Sequel: Exclusive Leaked Script ExtractExt. Times Square<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_QiPQY1b625hQQTlfH_kgKhmXZpnt-1qGDG8MbnOErGaIAznTFxDLfGrKOFoJD0DWxJaLkX-Cu-04FC73nQMjoFu1VzOkHcetQl2F4HzACFyuMByz6qM4mo5FaNIO-wPcHcb8Iw3VTUh/s1600-h/I+am+legend.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_QiPQY1b625hQQTlfH_kgKhmXZpnt-1qGDG8MbnOErGaIAznTFxDLfGrKOFoJD0DWxJaLkX-Cu-04FC73nQMjoFu1VzOkHcetQl2F4HzACFyuMByz6qM4mo5FaNIO-wPcHcb8Iw3VTUh/s400/I+am+legend.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246695061043110706" border="0" /></a>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-65646370087096125592008-09-12T18:31:00.010+01:002008-09-12T19:01:15.659+01:00A Little Bit of Politics, Italian Style"in 20 years Ratzinger will be dead and will end up in hell, tormented by queer demons - not passive ones, but very active ones."<br /><br /> - Italian comic Sabina Guzzanti<br /><br />Covered with far more wit, intelligence and accuracy than I can muster right now (I'm five beers in the hole) by proper journalists<br />Here:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/theatreblog/2008/sep/12/comedy">http://www.guardian.co.uk/stage/theatreblog/2008/sep/12/comedy</a><br /><br />And here:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/italy/2801662/Actress-faces-jail-for-saying-Pope-will-go-to-hell.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/italy/2801662/Actress-faces-jail-for-saying-Pope-will-go-to-hell.html</a><br /><br /><br /><br />If prosecuted, she could get five years.<br /><br />As anyone that knows me will tell you I'm always the optimistic, sunny side of the street kind of guy that will constantly look for the silver lining, so I can't help thinking that if we'd have had laws like this back in the eighties this hateful fraud<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCcHpFPUbVc2ie24UJNpyOOClQ1CoxpjQ2Gl7Ip_TL9iCtKIHxBG-5cRJzoBHFE6Tp7iuJ9OgYm6_E-8iaPEQQj6Dds5T4714EoHskcIpmLmMotF6IeUOva0WYZE9s_KhyphenhyphenxABzhlUPKEx/s1600-h/ben_elton.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQCcHpFPUbVc2ie24UJNpyOOClQ1CoxpjQ2Gl7Ip_TL9iCtKIHxBG-5cRJzoBHFE6Tp7iuJ9OgYm6_E-8iaPEQQj6Dds5T4714EoHskcIpmLmMotF6IeUOva0WYZE9s_KhyphenhyphenxABzhlUPKEx/s400/ben_elton.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245191809123143842" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">He looks a bit like my uncle Barry in this picture - sorry Barry.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br />might not have written all those shit books for cunts. Or made We Will Rock You.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-46593330513651261242008-09-12T17:54:00.003+01:002008-09-12T17:58:49.340+01:00I Can See YouAlright, own up. Who searched Scattergum for the word boobs?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHExepZCUIoESSjvkF64RZH0DoLS-CXo4z4v9tqyxBudxl5Q5CFY-UGVOLe-vr9_xVwJIN1qGrtlmOCW5ltqqzuIG_oAQ4DNpCmGi7O4jbfzHFjFZwVZ8qOdkAjMZfCTOTQR8Ja7HX6KS5/s1600-h/scattergum.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHExepZCUIoESSjvkF64RZH0DoLS-CXo4z4v9tqyxBudxl5Q5CFY-UGVOLe-vr9_xVwJIN1qGrtlmOCW5ltqqzuIG_oAQ4DNpCmGi7O4jbfzHFjFZwVZ8qOdkAjMZfCTOTQR8Ja7HX6KS5/s400/scattergum.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245179749920382242" border="0" /></a>I'm a little perplexed. There's foul language here, but there's no porn to be found. Maybe I should add some. Would this place become more popular if I did? Suggestions?E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-35631679827217417492008-09-11T20:27:00.001+01:002008-09-12T18:07:19.572+01:00For Anonymous.Some cheeky cunt from Amazon marketplace has just asked me not to print out their confirmation email "UNLESS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY" because I should think of my carbon footprint.<br />Patronising cocksockets. Do they think I'm some doddering elderly fuckwit that needs a paper copy of everything?<br />I'll bet they also reckon I keep my life savings under the bed so the "gas man" can rob the lot; think bananas are exotic because we didn't have them during the blitz and I spend my days nursing a single pint of light and bitter in the pub while I wait for the piss I accidentally did all over myself on the way there to dry into a shameful stain on my trouser front; a sorry indictment of my urine soaked obsolescence.<br />Only to piss all over myself accidentally on the way home again.<br /><br />I'm going to email them back with that actually and tell them they can print it out as many times as they fucking like.<br /><br />This three quid wine I bought from the corner shop is rank, what a fucking surprise.<br /><br />Oh yeah, and happy 9th November to any cunts reading this from 'merca.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-7880201923237913812008-09-09T20:16:00.000+01:002008-09-09T20:19:45.906+01:00Last of The Summer Wine: Deleted Scene<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72fXs4GxL9i7vbjnvncqP9vbcslmjJhjoKUvUzZm9CWAZkpCrTdUe6sbee7R-QUqOQAFIOP8r-GV4-PgXf86uAx1i9AqwVWZFfZf2XApV5S6Rn1JRuW4BoY_oW6UfdCE8VCJpBGzssQVd/s1600-h/last+of+sthe+summer+wine+shitty+dick%21.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72fXs4GxL9i7vbjnvncqP9vbcslmjJhjoKUvUzZm9CWAZkpCrTdUe6sbee7R-QUqOQAFIOP8r-GV4-PgXf86uAx1i9AqwVWZFfZf2XApV5S6Rn1JRuW4BoY_oW6UfdCE8VCJpBGzssQVd/s400/last+of+sthe+summer+wine+shitty+dick%21.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244103030442806962" border="0" /></a>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-75148190777215004262008-09-07T18:08:00.001+01:002008-09-07T18:10:05.599+01:00Sex and the City Movie Sequel: Exclusive Leaked Script ExtractExt. Near the Brooklyn Bridge.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPVLs-fT-YuGrDsw8rkpJX9vYbrjsxB-KZGuhJjYcg5VunkeTNmQXIjUaSKd0CpSgjcL5lu7K5Ywa8qhCkL269BWVtpzYKzSm20W4lnwjQqspOPFEkWBNE0srTzJtTrbWbwJLcP9NWS6N/s1600-h/sex+and+the+city.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPVLs-fT-YuGrDsw8rkpJX9vYbrjsxB-KZGuhJjYcg5VunkeTNmQXIjUaSKd0CpSgjcL5lu7K5Ywa8qhCkL269BWVtpzYKzSm20W4lnwjQqspOPFEkWBNE0srTzJtTrbWbwJLcP9NWS6N/s400/sex+and+the+city.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243327731802580802" border="0" /></a>E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3098674601312394269.post-43886058732704973152008-08-14T18:00:00.000+01:002008-08-14T18:35:57.975+01:00I swear Nick, It Wasn't Me That Laughed At Your Bald spot.35 quid to see Nick Cave in November, if I'm reliably informed.<br /><br />35 quid?! Doesn't he know all the credit has been crunched and no fucker has any money?*<br />He's only going to spend it all on more (admittedly sharp) pinstripe suits and Just For Men hair and mustache dye (colour: Midnight Goth Black) anyways.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubEu-aTIToH366edpQ8cihVf9nMVlWl3kHUKn3eBUbJqjwwq4oSttmjYNiCxlMkwa80CEIM7vKHSxr3MmUZaI891sbU3MipdFZGP1HcmHYhvE9BAqpL7n-HXAKp4WZ3fyTC8sKgDRKflN/s1600-h/Nick_Cave_02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhubEu-aTIToH366edpQ8cihVf9nMVlWl3kHUKn3eBUbJqjwwq4oSttmjYNiCxlMkwa80CEIM7vKHSxr3MmUZaI891sbU3MipdFZGP1HcmHYhvE9BAqpL7n-HXAKp4WZ3fyTC8sKgDRKflN/s400/Nick_Cave_02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234420409006654034" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;">Nick Cave once kicked the shit out of a journalist for pointing out his bald spot.<br />Overreaction?<br />Not when it comes to journalists.</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*Except me. I have plenty of money, I'm just not going because I've already seen him live this year (pretty fucking great since you didn't bother to ask, cunt). I'm thinking about the rest of you plebs and dole scum for once.E.S Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15832017849757971901noreply@blogger.com1