I kept the dress Marc

I’ve said this before, and I’m going to keep saying it, “Ignorance is the root of all that kills.” All of our problems can be traced back to ignorance, and the big ignorant fuck ups in the world are built out of little ignorant fuck ups.

Today I’d like to talk about one of the little fuck ups in society that’s becoming so common that it’s becoming accepted as legitimate behavior. In fact, it already has. It’s shifted the balance of acceptable behavior in the direction of stupid, and having advanced stupid one step further it’s only a matter of time until we shift to the next step and the next step and the next step until we live in an Idiocracy, which never have been possible if we hadn’t taken that first step.

With that said, stop using the acronym “LOL.” Apparently most people don’t realize this…but only stupid people say LOL. Smart people don’t say LOL. Professors don’t say LOL. Heads of State don’t say LOL… unless they’re stupid. LOL is tell-tale sign of stupidity, a motto, a badge, a label, a secret handshake.

I don’t care what arguments you tell yourself, me, or anyone else to justify typing/saying LOL. I don’t care if it’s your guilty pleasure. I don’t care if you’re joking. I don’t care if you think it’s harmless. I don’t care if you think I take life too seriously. I don’t care because this isn’t an argument about whether or not you’re justified in saying LOL. This is me telling you that saying LOL is a sign of stupidity. It’s admittance that you have no intellectual standards. The excuses people use to justify their lack of intellectual standards aren’t valid justifications; THEY’RE THE PROBLEM.

Remember, I’m not asking you whether or not LOL is stupid or justifiable. I’m telling you…this is reality. This is how it is. LOL is stupid, and people who use it should be ashamed of themselves. Your friends don’t want to tell you because they’re afraid you’ll get defensive and resent them for pointing out that you’re doing something stupid. But I’m not your friend…at least, not in the sense that I care if you hate me. But in the sense that I’m the only one willing to point out that you have broccoli in your teeth (metaphorically speaking) I’m the truest friend you’ve got.

So please, stop lowering the intellectual standards of society, and stop embarrassing yourself. Stop saying LOL.

And yes, I realize the irony in the fact that I said LOL 13 times in the blog.

Species Name:  Hypocraticus Selfrighteousius

Uno!  Dos!  Tres!  Go fuck yourself!  I don’t trust any guy who can’t count to the number four in Spanish.  I don’t get Bono or U2.  People are obsessed with this band, hence their staying power over the last thirty years.  I myself never found them all that talented.  For fucks sake, their guitarist was too cool to have a real name and therefore had to deem himself “The Edge.”  What an asshole.  You don’t see Jimmy Page or Keith Richards needing to have some douchey name.  You know why?  Because they’re fucking talented musicians and didn’t have to hide behind a gimmick.  But this post isn’t about U2 per se, it’s about the root of the problem: Bono.

I despise this man, and I probably shouldn’t.  Everyone says, “how can you hate him?  He’s such a great humanitarian.”  He may be a great humanitarian, but the problem I have with Bono is that he wants to rub it in your face every chance he gets.  This smarmy, self-righteous, narcissistic wanker is so proud of himself and his mission to save the world, there is no stage big enough for Bono to scream about it on.  What happened to modesty and dignity?  What happened to silently donating money to good causes?  Bono takes every opportunity to say, “Look how fucking awesome I am.  Why don’t you get off your fat arse and try to be as awesome as me?”  I see Bono’s question, and raise him another question, “If you care so much about the little people and making the world a better place, why the fuck do your fans have to sell their first born to go to one of your concerts?”  I wish Bono’s tinted sunglasses would teleport him to another dimension so I wouldn’t have to see his ugly mug anymore.  In fact, let’s imagine a world without that big headed piss hole.

In a world where everyday would be a “Beautiful Day” because Bono wouldn’t be around to ruin it:

• We wouldn’t be left asking the question, “Bono, are either of those girls, your wife?”

Other bands would see the need to progress in their music, instead of churning out the same bullshit every few years like U2.
• We would have never been able to see…whatever this is…

• Men in their 30’s would be left without a band to idolize, and be forced to worship WHAM!
Bob Geldof wouldn’t have to worry about Bono calling him every night wanting to know what it’s like being a true humanitarian.
The “God complex” would never had been invented with Bono to apply it to.
Cowboy hats would only be worn by cowboys.
There would never be someone so in love with themselves for the rest of eternity.
There would never again be someone who attempts to do so much good, but still comes across as a piece of shit:

Oh, Bono, I hope you’re proud of yourself.  I hope your incessant need to be the most outspoken person in the world on issues that you know nothing about allows you to sleep well at night.  When your legion of fans pays $300 a ticket to see you at the Rose Bowl this weekend, I hope they get treated to an amazing show.  And by an amazing show, I mean that I hope some part of your massive stage setup, collapses on you, covering the first few rows with a little piece of Bono to take home with them.  Instead, we’ll be forced to hear you make the same boring ass shit excuse for music til your larynx gives out.

Sweet mullet...

But one has to have dreams right?

A few months ago Bumble met a new colleague. Technically this fellow is higher in the corporate hierarchy, so in effect is one of Bumble’s many bosses.

Death to Amphipods, Krill and Prawns!

On the corporate food chain, Bumble is somewhere between plankton and killer whale. Several organization charts show Bumble differently. Bumble digresses for a future post.

The new bloke is definitely a killer whale. He Is quite a funny fellow from New Zealand. In fact, he’s been very straightforward, helpful and at times inspiring, while still managing to be somewhat of a jackass. In short, very similar to Bumble. He is also quite large so we’ll call him “Jiff” to preserve Bumble’s plausible deniability should he ever see this.

For quite some time Jiff has been calling Bumble “Drongo”. Since it does rhyme with Bumble’s last name Bumble innocently assumed it was just a mocking nickname based on that alone.

Bumble was wrong!

For the last two days Bumble has been sequestered in a cubicle pod with big Jiff from New Zealand, an Indian, a Brit, three

Death to International Nerd Fests!

American software developers, and an IT ninja from Canada. If you ever get the chance to spend time pent up in a 20 x 20 foot room with a similar united nations of nerds, do yourself a favor. Nibble on a shotgun barrel instead.

This morning Jiff again called Bumble “Drongo”. Nothing new but this time the Brit chuckled. In Bumble’s experience Brits, in particular this one, do not chuckle.

Bumble: What’s so funny?
British Wanker: You don’t know what Drongo means do you?
Bumble: I assumed it was just a play on my name.
British Wanker: hahahaha
New Zealand Tosser: hahahahahaha
Americans: huh?

Bumble googled it while the filthy slappers soiled themselves at his expense.

drongo

noun- a stupid, inept, awkward or embarrassing person, a dimwit or slow witted person, a fool.

An Australian word, which is derived from a type of bird of that name. It was observed by Australians as acting rather crazily.

Bumble did a little further research. Maybe at least the bird was cool. Sadly it is crazy, and has several Bumble like traits.

Death to you Hawk Eagle!

The Greater Racket-tailed Drongo shown here has a reputation of being aggressive and fearless. It will attack much larger birds including raptors. These birds have also been known to attack people walking near or below an active nest.

Unfortunately, since Bumble answered to “Drongo” for four months, he really can’t argue that he wasn’t a drongo. To make it worse, Bumble has no recourse at work since big Jiff is also the Human Resources guy.

So as it is rare that anyone gets the upper hand on Bumble there is really only one thing to do. Bumble tips his cap to big Jiff. You won this round.

Cheers Mate!

And now to plot sweet, sweet revenge…

TWO yobs have appeared in court after starting a fight with Spiderman — and getting knocked out by two cross-dressers.
Dean Jonathan Gardner, aged 19, and Jason Andrew Fender, aged 22, were arrested following two separate incidents in The Kingsway which took place just moments apart in the early hours of August 30.
But they picked the wrong victims on this occasion after being floored by two cross-dressers who are believed to have been cage fighters on a night out.
Police confronted Gardner and Fender, both of Llanerch Road, Bonymaen, nursing their injuries after identifying the unemployed pair from CCTV pictures which showed them fighting with people queuing outside the Escape club.

Yob: A ne’re-do-well, hooligan, thug.

BTW:  The beat down starts about 1 min in.

More informed social commentary

When does conceited hyperbole turn into an outright demonstration of wanking?  There seem to be an awful lot of highly opinionated ’social commentators’ out there that have recently crossed the line between informed  reporting and wrist slapping self-indulgence.  The dictionary list two sorts of wankers; those that physically masturbate; and those that are regarded as detestable or contemptible people.  I’d suggest that there is a third type -the media commentator that qualifies for both. 

Social wanking may not be contagious, but it must be incurable…..judging by the volume of moaning emitted from the AM dial on my radio every morning.

Makes you want to blow chunks, doesn’t it?

Stephen Pound MP – that well-known media whore shrinking violet – was on Radio 5 Live last night on the Nolan phone-in show.

He referred to:

The foul foetid reeking swamp of the blogosphere

I guess I might well be part of that due to articles like this.

I fucking hope so.

Strange, isn’t it, how the Left really doesn’t like blogs, blogging or bloggers?

Mind you, when you read something like this then you soon realise why.

It’s because they’re just no fucking good at it.

Here’s the thing masturbating Dutch  truck driver, when you flip your vehicle and block multiple lanes of traffic don’t continue to masturbate, that’s just wrong. Amazing but wrong. The man who was en route to Gothenburg, Sweden,  was having a good old time slapping the meat when he lost control of his truck and flipped it. When officers arrived he was still at it. Awkward!

By nature I’m not normally prone to bouts of sympathy, especially when the object of that sympathy is an acne-ridden scouser and even-more-than-normally-boring professional footballer.  But I’ve always felt that being mistakenly known as the son of a man best described by his anagram pseudonym ‘Colin Wanker’ is cross no-one should have to bear.  Not even if he is a mundane bin-dipping overpaid prick who looks like a Mattel Peter Crouch doll.

That said, I still laughed like a ticklish hyena on nitrous oxide when reading his rendition of the usual big club dream come true superb fans when I met the gaffer it feels like the right time bollocks that footballers trot out when changing clubs.  On the very night that his new team Aston Villa were dumped out of the laughably grand sounding Europa Cup at their own half-empty stadium by a team of Austrian journeymen, the useless scouse twat bullshitted: “Playing in Europe is important to me”.

Still at least the lop-sided, jug-eared prick can be honest about the reason behind choosing to make his horrifically overpriced and almost certainly regrettable move now.  He was living in Blackburn; even a shithouse like Birmingham is a step up from that.

You naughty little monkey.

1. My and my boyfriend were due to have a nice relaxing weekend together for our anniversary at one of the Ramada hotels. After overbooking us, and we are left twiddling our thumbs on the last possible days we can book off from work for the next 6 months, they say “Yup, there’s nothing we can do. Toodleoo“
No apology. No offer to compensate us for our inconvenience. No manners. Wankers.

2. Following our destroyed anniversary weekend, my boyfriend is taken to court by a woman who lives near him regarding a car accident dispute. The judge decides that the lady was “completely in the wrong” for reversing on a roundabout to get into her driveway, that she was not abiding by the highway code, and that there is no excuse for it being difficult.
HOWEVER, the judge then decides that my boyfriend must be punished because he is YOUNG and should “know better” than to “be in the way“.
Ok, so let me get this straight, the woman was in the wrong, she wrote off my boyfriends car, had no damage to her own car , and yet my boyfriend must pay for the court costs, pay for a new car, and lose all of his no claims because he is YOUNG. Oh yeah, I can see how that is justice. Complete and utter selfish wanker.

3. This week, most people I know get the last lot of their Ones to Watch scholarship from university simply because they showed up to their lessons. Oh yeah, that’s right, I went to all of my lessons and yet I don’t get that because my parents make too much money and are paying for all the doleys at the minute. Yeah you’re right, I don’t deserve cash as well. Stingy wankers.

4. This week, another person from my class got a good job. Not just a job, a career job. And I would say graduating class, but hey presto, they didn’n't even graduate. And the funny thing is, I went for the same job! So I graduated, I work hard for a living, I did multiple work placements to better my CV and slogged my metaphorical bollocks off as the Editor of my student magazine in my final year at university. And yet, I’m still struggling to find a career. Absolute undeserving wanker.

5. I am so so angry that I had to taint my blog with this and I have just read that “your online self-representation should demonstrate that you are a serious, ethical journalist” and quite frankly, the fact that I have said wankers 4 times in this blog post, probably goes against that. But today, I am just an angry Brit, who hates her country, who nows understands why “youths” stand around drinking and doing nothing, because sometimes, this country is a big fat wanker, who gives you nothing to believe in.

Yes, that’s clearly an inappropriate status update, but the response may be even more so.  Managers should take HR issues seriously.  Broadcasting company issues online doesn’t just hurt the company’s brand, it hurts the manager’s reputation as well.

I stumbled across an interesting blog the other day, Le Cunt

This website never claims to be anything but an area to express your dissatisfaction with modern-day, lecunt-faces and share the tales of their lecuntish lives. Aswell as accepting submissions from anyone, viewers can also rate posts on a lecunt level of 1-10, with the most lecuntish getting shiny gold stars for their lecuntish efforts

In true democratic fashion, you must name lecunt, give evidence against said lecunt and come to a final verdict

There are some very true lecunts already there, including these lecunts!

Go on, give us all a good laugh! Everyone knows something lecuntish. SUBMIT!

You can follow all the action here

Two builders (Dave and Stuart) are seated either side of a table in a roughpub when a well-dressed man enters,  orders a beer and sits on a stool atthe bar. The two builders start to speculate about the occupation of the suit…

Dave: – I reckon he’s an accountant.

Stuart: – No way – he’s a geologist.

Dave: – He ain’t no geologist! A geologist wouldn’t come in here!

The argument repeats itself for some time until the volume of beer gets thebetter of Dave and he makes for the  toilet. On entering the toilet he seesthat the suit is standing at a urinal. Curiosity and the several beers getthe  better of the builder…

Dave: – Scuse me…. no offence meant, but me and me mate were wondering what you do for a living?

Suit: – No offence taken! I’m a Logical Scientist by profession!

Dave: – Oh! What’s that then?Suit: – I’ll try to explain by example. Do you have a goldfish at home?

Dave: – Er, mmm… well yeah, I do as it happens!

Suit: – Well, it’s logical to follow that you keep it in a bowl or in a pond. Which is it?

Dave: – It’s in a pond!

Suit: – Well then it’s reasonable to suppose that you have a large garden then?

Dave: – As it happens, yes I have got a big garden!

Suit: – Well then it’s logical to assume that in this town if you have a  large garden then you have a large house?

Dave: – As it happens I’ve got a five bedroom house… built it myself!

Suit: – Well given that you’ve built a five bedroom house it is logical to assume that you haven’t built it just for  yourself and that you are quite probably married?

Dave: – Yes I am married, I live with my wife and three children.

Suit: – Well then it is logical to assume that you are sexually active with your wife on a regular basis?

Dave: – Yep! Four nights a week!

Suit: – Well then it is logical to suggest that you do not masturbate very often?

Dave: – Me? Never

Suit: – Well there you are! That’s logical science at work!

Dave: – How’s that then?

Suit: – Well from finding out that you had a goldfish, I’ve told you about your sex life!

Dave: – I see! That’s pretty impressive… thanks mate!

Both leave the toilet and Dave returns to his mate.

Stuart: – I see the suit was in there. Did you ask him what he does?

Dave: – Yep! He’s a logical scientist!

Stuart: – What’s that then?Dave:- I’ll try and explain. Do you have a goldfish?

Stuart: – Nope

Dave: – Well then, you’re a wanker.

I have been so neglectful.

There is so much to fill you all in on.

Things with the Cree-ture ended badly. A story for when I have more time. The short version ~ He broke into my apartment and attacked me…

Sleeping with the person I shouldn’t be sleeping with….a new boy. Drinks. A relationship I just don’t understand.

Wanker. I didn’t sleep with him. What a weird happening. One day after brunch we came back to mine so I could sew up his pants and it ended in making out and a blow job. I was shocked at how I forgot how huge he was. It was a weird thing, slipped so easily back into the way we were; as if we were together again.

But it happened only once and we’ve hung out plenty since then and it really meant nothing and was far less weird than I would have thought. But I’m pretty sure I’m still in love with him (oh woe is me right? hah)

I had my first male-male-female threesome the other night.

What a joke.

With Drinks and Jewf. Jewf the last person I saw that happening with. How bizarre. I hope he doesn’t think this means it will happen all the time.

What do you say to two men who ask you what you want and they’re just so disastrous you don’t even have any words to help. It’s like; so far beyond you know. It would take all the fun out of it, it would turn into a dull excruciating schooling of really what’s acceptable and what’s not, how you eat pussy, how you don’t dump a GIANT bottle of oil all over me and you and slap around and grind your tongue on someones clitoris.

What do you tell two gentlemen who are so drunk and stoned and clumsy who keep asking you how to get you off (when it’s already a very hard task to do so) that it would be easier if I just did it on my own.

I mean don’t get me wrong it wasn’t all bad and clumsy and awful. It definitely wasn’t one of those “I can’t believe how AWFUL that was” situations. It was fun and spontaneous and I got them to open up and smack me around a bit. My ass is so bruised.

But it was hard when two men are stoned on coke and can’t get hard and aren’t really that experienced. But it was fun to try none the less.

again when I have some more time I will delve fully into detail about it all.

I’m sorry for the neglect. I love you all.

Side: Crystal Palace F.C.

Nickname(s): Eagles, Palace

Ground: Selhurst Park

From Boro: down London way around 260 miles – 5 hours by motor and 3 by rail

Kit: awful – looks like a rejected Barca design gone horribly awry w/ the vertical stripes meandering off under the arms

Rivalry: Brighton and Hove Albion…not geographically suspect at all

You Don’t Know What You’re Doing!: Neil Warnock, the target of Sean Bean’s ire after Sheffield United failed to escape relegation on the final day of the 2006-07 campaign – here is the spine of his viral tirade inflicted on the gaffer’s wife and boy 20 minutes after the match: ‘It’s your fucking husband that got us relegated. He’s a fucking wanker’

Nothing really left to say….

I have been thinking back to how I used to be when I was younger; before this long term relationship that I’m currently in I mean.

I remember I met this guy (who shall be known as CW – as in Chinless Wonder. Hmm… says a lot straight away). We met when I went in to a store to apply for a job there. We flirted like crazy for what seemed like ages. But alas, he had a girlfriend, I had a boyfriend, and in some respects I was daunted by his confidence. His lack of chin seemed to be played down by his cool hair, hence my interest. Ahem.

Eventually I dumped my boyfriend (nickname Wanker) and CW dumped his girlfriend. And so we dated.

Unfortunately, it soon dawned on me, that whilst the sex might have been phenomenal, the man behind the penis might be sorely lacking.

The really tragic part of this however, is that I knew then, and I still know now, that despite our brief fling ending, this guy sucks. What does it say about me that even through all of the hurt, disappointment, and general lacklustre performance he gave me, I still actually think about him quite a lot?

Dumb-ass.

Apparently I am a masochist. Perhaps it is boredom? Hmm not so sure. I get quite a lot of attention. I suppose I may have a little bit of a self-torturing attitude.

And just to really hammer the point home, the reason this guy is definitely a dud is because he presented himself to me as being fun, sexy, honest, mysterious and experienced (plus he had a real nice car..) which is what I was drawn to. And even after one date, I caught him out in two lies.

What the fuck?! Firstly, why do people lie so much? Is it a character flaw of mine that I feel an inability to lie? I suppose I must lie sometimes, apparently everyone does. But I haven’t noticed… Ok, white lies perhaps – like when some random person asks your opinion and you don’t want to hurt their feelings… But that’s not as harmful as trying to deceive someone in to falling for you. Is it?

At least make the fucking effort to remember what lies you’ve told so that you don’t get found out. Jeez.

Weirdly, I never confronted him about the lies. Apparently not only am I a masochist, I’m also in denial. I dated him for a while after that. Until I realised that he had no chin.

I wonder why it took me so long to realise?