Rants

I’ll admit that I’ve not read this entire article (mainly because I saw entries such as Pixel Junk Monsters and far too many JRPG’s. But I will say this.

Anyone who says that Half Life 2 isn’t the game of the decade, knows approximately fuck all about video games.

End of story, over, finito.

It’s really simple to write a “game of the decade” article. Let me do one for you right now…

1. Half Life 2
2. Grand Theft Auto 3
3. Resident Evil 4 or possibly Portal

The reason that games like these stand out is because, once released, no-one could imagine a world without them. No single game developer didn’t use one of these three games as a reference point for their new game. These games influenced games designers, producers, publishers, developers and everyone. One of their aspects. Gameplay, story telling, physics, anything, stemmed from these games.

Sure, they are sequels to games, and their roots lie in games previous, but in each case they perfected their game. Unlike movies, games sequels are often much better than their predecessors. And this is the case with all three.

Anyone, who says “Those aren’t the top three” don’t have a clue what they are talking about and/or are trying to be controversial.

P.s. Also, Kotaku clearly don’t understand the word “decade” – for the clueless. A decade is a period of ten years starting at 0 and ending at 9. I learnt this in primary school.

2000 to 2009 is a decade. 2010 is the first year of the next decade. (hence everyone on Earth celebrating it as such)

Auto Updates

You click open firefox, and a little box pops up telling you which, of the twenty thousand addons you have, have been updated since the last time you updated. HEY, lets look at the phrase “Auto Update” again, “Auto” shortened from Auto-fucking-matic and “update” as in, kept up to date. – Automatic updates should mean automatic up-fucking-dates. Honestly, I shouldn’t have to click “Install” to install them, it should be fucking automatic.

When a bit of new software is released, why on fucking earth would you not want to update it? “Hey, would you like me to ensure your car has new tires?” – “no thanks, I prefer the old shit ones with death embedded in it”. I can’t think of a single reason why anyone would want to say “no thanks, I don’t want to update”. Why not make the software just go “hang on there’s a new version, I’m just going to silently upgrade and let the user get on with it – I’m going to do it in such a way that the user will never actually notice the update, UNLESS with the update comes some fantastic new feature that I simply have to tell the user about, in which case, I will present this information in a modal fashion, I WILL NOT put up a message box informing the user I’m great”

And now I expect someone to pipe up and say “But what about Malware or trojans or other such stuff” – And here is my response. Why allow anything automatic to install? EVER?- When you’re installing for the first time, you should be prompted for confirmation, that’s fine. But every 0.0.0.1 version update, I really don’t give a fuck.

Futurologists

I watched the gadget show last night with two “leading” futurologists on it, what they do is sit around all day drinking flavoured coffee and spout complete and utter fucking bollocks. Honestly, it’s got to be the easiest gag on earth for a bit of cash. I heard one of them, (who’s name escapes me but basically he worked for British Telecom, who’ve, you know, been so fucking great at spotting upcoming technology – like Broadband, and um.. mobile phones) – and he claimed that within twenty years, we will be swallowing airborne nano-bots that will be able to read and control our thoughts.

Read that again – in twenty years time, robots will control our minds.

See, by me writing this on my website, I’m willing to go down in history as saying I’ve never read so much fucking rot in my entire life. Whilst I’m regularly amazed that we’ve come from a ZX81 spectrum to an Iphone in 20 years, I just do not, frankly, believe we’ll have:-

a) mastered nano technology
b) mastered the human fucking brain

I mean seriously, how do you end up getting a job like that? You can spit out shit and someone somewhere thinks “wow, that’s a great idea, I love it” –

Yes, it’s a great idea but as anyone in the computer games industry knows, coming up with ideas is the easy bit, making the ideas, getting them through governments and committees, (especially when talking about controlling peoples fucking minds) – getting them through development without some fucking twat called Debbie spaffing her shitjuice all over making sure it turns out 100% the opposite to the plans and what do you end up with?

Fuck all.

My predictions for the future.

Robots
Flying cars
Cybernetics
Renewable energy

Exactly like it’s been for hundreds of years. Nanobots, fuck me, look at Robotics for the last twenty years, we’ve gone from Darleks to Asimo (and frankly, as great as Asimo is, I still don’t believe it’s autonomous as much as they’d like us to think it is)

We can’t even get toast to land butter side up for fuck sake.

(And if anyone wants to know my real predictions for the future)

a) the internet being switched off and replaced with something more legislated, but they won’t just say “we’re switching it off” they’ll say “we’ve improved it so much it’s now called web 10.0″
b) more and more surfaced based technology, (like the iphone, but everything – I like the term “active technology”)
c) nanobots that control your mind
d) cars that drive themselves
e) a metric shit tonne of things no one has thought of yet.

One thing that annoys me more than Piers Morgan is watching idiots argue about topics they have absolutely no knowledge of.

The sweeping statement of saying “The human eye cannot distinguish anything above 23.01 fps” is utter. UTTER. COCK.

For a start, your mark 1 human eyeball, get this doesn’t see in frames per second. It doesn’t see in frames at fucking all, that’s one of the modern wonders of light, and the speed of it, it’s fucking awesome. Your brain doesn’t sit there and do a vertical scan sync and say “oh, I’m just working out a complicated mathematics sum so I’m going to use my CPU time on that and drop my eyeball to information ratio down to 50% so you’ll only be seeing at 15 fps for next couple of seconds”

You fucking dimwit. By saying “there is no difference between 30fps and 60fps” – you are categorically, a) wrong, and b) fucking wrong. That’s like saying “Hey!, Nvidia, you’re wasting your time and billions and billions of pounds making your video cards go above anything around 25fps because the human eye cannot tell the difference”

Unfortunately, what you’re actually trying to spout out as complete fact is that TELEVISION runs at 25fps (or there abouts) and when you look at TELEVISION the difference between 25fps and 30fps is almost indistinguishable, because it fucking well is. Can we guess why kiddies? Because spotting a 16% ish frame rate difference is a lot mother fucking harder than spotting a 100% frame rate difference.

Computer games, and anything to do with monitors, have a higher REFRESH RATE, which means they are capable of displaying images ABOVE 25fps… WHICH AMAZINGLY THE HUMAN EYE CAN SEE.

It’s been studied that certain fighter pilots can distinguish up to 1/200th of a second, I imagine that formula one drivers, and some fucking computer gamers, can probably see the difference between 60fps and 120fps. (In fact, I’d lay my nuts on the line and say I could do it easily)

Please, never, ever, ever, EVER, say there is no difference between 30fps and 60fps again, because you are fucking wrong.

So who would have thought it, it turns out the runners of TPB are actually money thieving sell out scum bags who have walked away with a nice chunk of change to set up a “internet freedom foundation” – yeah good luck with that… that’ll really make the big time, might as well shout “so long suckers, thanks for all the fish!”

If anyone, ANYONE, tries to tell me that the Pirate bay was some sort of lighthouse for freedom and a declaration of internet rights, I’ll point, laugh and say “hahahaha, yeah”.

Seriously, check out the anger on their blog (sure it’s long but it’s a mighty fine giggle) – people saying stuff like..

“Aww man, I’m so disappointed, I thought the pirate bay was a beacon of freedom on the seas of the internet”

Wait? What?

No, the pirate bay was where you went to get free shit that you have no right in getting. Sure, it’d be hypocritical of me to say that I’ve not downloaded over twenty thousand quids worth of kitten pictures from there, but at least I admit I’m a thieving shitlord, I don’t say “oh, I do this because I’m sticking it to the man and making a statement about the badness of Copyright theft”

No, it’s because I simply want to get something for nothing.

Anyone who says they used the Pirate Bay for anything other than that is blatantly spackered.

The thing with the Pirate Bay I’ll miss is the “top one hundred sections” – but someone will copy that eventually, and we’ll all go happily over to that joyous place. Crying about TPB selling out is a bit pointless, lets face it, there is no real freedom in this world any more, and thinking setting up a piracy website is going to somehow get it is a joke.

Plus, this will all turn out like the Napster incident, they’ll try and go legit and disappear off the map – because no one has realised that piracy doesn’t particularly like paying for shit. Then another website with a catchy URL will pop up and everyone will go there instead..

Ad infinitum. QED. BBQ.

Edit: Oh yeah, if anyone has a Demonoid invite going spare… You know where I am… (right here)

There’s one thing that bothers me, (one thing?!) regarding people. Why on earth are people getting arsey about the proximity of Valves announcement of Left 4 dead 2, to the proximity of Left 4 Dead 1’s release?

Okay, so it’s a 12 month turn around, I have two major grievances with people who complain.

1. Since when do you get a fucking say? – Seriously, Code Masters used to release a game every other week, no-one fucking complained, everyone actually cheered it. (And I’m not talking new games, there were sequels that were about as sequel like as the average Tiger Woods game) – If you love a game, how come you don’t want a sequel? I want Forza 3 now… – I’d want it six weeks after Forza 2… The wait for Rainbow Six 3 is actually fucking annoying me now…

My boredom threshold might be a lot lower than most peoples, but Left 4 Dead entertained me for two weeks, tops… Sure, people bleat on about the achievements being the center of the game and if you just play it through with no real aim, then you’re a “luzor lol” – but seriously, L4D left me really cold after a few weeks.

No amount of DLC would have made me go “wow, this game isn’t as shallow as a babies paddling pool” – I expect L4D2 to be no different, let me see, 4-8 scenarios? All of them MP this time, erm, Melee Weapons instead of Pistols, err, 2 or three new “boss enemies” – unlockable L4D1 characters… and zero fucking replayability beyond the achievements.

2. DLC is not a required business model, when a publisher releases a game, believe it or not, they do not HAVE TO FUCKING SUPPORT IT FOREVER. Instead, they can spot that their previous DLC hasn’t made as much money as, oh, i dunno, releasing a boxed game, and so they go about releasing the game again.

Quit fucking whinging and get on with counting your fucking pennies you cheapskate cunts. You just want something for fucking free again, as always. Well tough.

If the very idea of playing L4D2 disgusts you that much, it’s really simple, don’t buy it… But you will won’t you, because if you care so much as to whinge about it, you’ll simply not be able to not buy it come release day and turn into an L4D3 complainer.. (I hope Valve go for 6 months after 2…)

To even dare criticize valve, in my opinion is like actively trying to piss off god – seriously, you might think you know everything there is to know about games, but you know jack compared to those guys – seriously, everything you think you know about computer games, Valve taught you.

So how about shutting the fuck up and getting on with counting down the seconds to the second Left 4 Dead?

The internet would be unplugged on April 1st.

Lets discuss:-

Mr Australian wakes up 11 hours before I do, and decides to write a topical post that is infact, a load of cockhat, and so he posts this little joke on the internet, which is a persistent being, that lives longer than a single day, he then enjoys his little jape, and goes back to bed, approximately 11 hours after I’ve woken up, read his fucking post, and hated him for it.

Then, the english twats write their own little japes, har-de-har-fucking har… English people go to bed, and the Americans wake up, reading the English and australian japes, they get in on the fucking retard act and start to spam the internet with their own, particularly fucking stupid April 1st japes.

har de fucking har har.

West coast America goes to bed, Australian man wakes up, sees loads of American japes on April 2nd, gets confused, thinks aliens have invaded and then kills self (god we can hope and pray)

English people wake up to find posts of gazzilons of other nations pricks saying “HAHA, MY APRIL 1st JOKE PWNED – Here’s a list of all other April 1st jokes I found”

On April 2nd…

And so, a fucking retarded period of a day that makes no fucking sense whatsoever lasts for 48 hours. (or 59 if you want to be a pedant)

Please, can we not see that the internet is not a forum for April 1st jokes and really, really shouldn’t be used as such.

And then, because it’s the internet… It lingers, cached… forever… (and sometimes not cached)

I fucking hate April 1st on the Internet. God predictable people irritate me.

I remember the time when I liked Beyoncé Knowles. No, seriously, I remember the time, it was exactly October 7th 2008. And then, in an instant it was like I heard a million voices cry out and then suddenly silence I’d attended Hitlers Reichstag speech. When I heard “If I was a boy”.

If I wasn’t driving, I’m sure I’d have instantly turned green, muscles popping everywhere whilst my clothes ripped, and left me with a respectable pair of purple shorts. But alas I was driving, and had to sit through Beyoncé FUCKING Knowles telling me how all men are wank.

Tar – Brush, Here go on, fuckin may as well.

If you’re fucking lucky and don’t live in a world where the fucking Radio play the same three songs all day every day, then you may not have heard it, So here are the songs lyrics. Which I enjoy breaking the copyright of.

If I were a boy
Even just for a day
I’d roll outta bed in the morning
And throw on what I wanted then go
Drink beer with the guys
And chase after girls
I’d kick it with who I wanted
And I’d never get confronted for it.
Cause they’d stick up for me.

[Chorus]
If I were a boy
I think I could understand
How it feels to love a girl
I swear I’d be a better man.
I’d listen to her
Cause I know how it hurts
When you lose the one you wanted
Cause he’s taken you for granted
And everything you had got destroyed

If I were a boy
I could turn off my phone
Tell everyone it’s broken
So they’d think that I was sleepin’ alone
I’d put myself first
And make the rules as I go
Cause I know that she’d be faithful
Waitin’ for me to come home (to come home)

(Chorus)

It’s a little too late for you to come back
Say its just a mistake
Think I’d forgive you like that
If you thought I would wait for you
You thought wrong

(Chorus)

But you’re just a boy
You don’t understand
Yeah you don’t understand
How it feels to love a girl someday
You wish you were a better man
You don’t listen to her
You don’t care how it hurts
Until you lose the one you wanted
Cause you’ve taken her for granted
And everything you have got destroyed
But you’re just a boy.

You know what word in that entire fucking tirade pisses me off the most?

“Just” – Just a boy? You fucking condescending bitch. I’m not JUST anything.

And anyway, that’s not my major beef with Beyoncé, no, I can transcend shitty song lyrics, but what I can’t condone is the following: (Little bit of background information beforehand)

For many years now, psychologists have been studying the differences between men and women, like how men are tunnel visioned because when they were cavemen they used this to “focus” on their prey, or how women cannot sleep if a baby is crying because of their instincts, or men having a lower pain threshold because a) they don’t give birth, and b) they need pain sensors to help them realise they are injured (and therefore vulnerable)

So shrinks have been researching the differences between men and women for hundreds upon hundreds of years, and unfortunately, what they don’t have is a control subject. Sure you can be a transvestite, but that is basically “pretending” to be a woman or a man when you’re not, if a man becomes a woman, his vision doesn’t suddenly become wide-angle. His pain threshold doesn’t double.

It’s simply not possible to know for certain that, for example, women see the colour blue as something else entirely.

If Beyoncé WAS one day to wake up as a man, and didn’t commit herself to scientific research to answer all these unsolved mysteries, then basically she’s a self-centered bitch.

Case ends.

So I’ve re-wrote her lyrics for her so that it better reflects what she should have done with this amazing gift.

If I were a boy,
even just for one day,
I’d wake up in the morning and say
“holy fuck me, I hope I’m not gay”

I’d get in the showerrr….
I’d wank myself offffff….
I’d put up with girls….
because I know how they moan
I’d learn to play darts,
I’d laugh and share farts,

I’d go and see a doctor,
and they’d stick it up me,
cause I’m a freak of naturrrreeee..

[Courus]
If I were a boy
I’d donate myself to scienceeee,
Because I was once a girl
and now I’d swear I was a man,
They’d take out my brain
Cause they know how it hurts
when women fucking nag like twats
LIKE TWATSSSSS!

If someone would like to sing these lyrics on YouTube and generate a million hits, that’d be fine.

Thanks for listening chillllll-dren!

P.s. Valentines day isn’t just for girls, if it was, we’d have Steak and Blowjob day as recompense

Unfortunately, this post has nothing to do with Gauntlet. Mostly because there is no news about Gauntlet, and therefore, nothing to write about it. It’s one of those handy chicken-egg scenarios.

What I do have to write about however, is my beloved Pro-Evolution Soccer… But since, some time back I covered the deficiencies of the game, I thought I’ll take a different route through PES09 and comment on the new mode.

Become a Leg end

If Pro-evolution’s become a legend mode was a section in a sex shop, It’d be the dark dank corner with a big bald bloke called Norman, wearing a gimp mask, stroking a ferret, whilst wearing an assortment of attachments in leather.

It’s sadomasochistic in it’s approach to game play. The premise, for anyone fortunate not to have encountered this mode is this:-

Basically, you have a training match, with a shit skill-less character, and you’re expected to play this game and perform well. Now, no matter how well you do play (For example, I scored a hat-trick, and three assists) – your character will still come out like a Glen Hoddle induced spastic – like you’ve been bad in a previous life and now have the stats of a postman.

You then spend the rest of this “game mode” playing for a selection of teams (the first, invariably is shit) – and have to impress the manager into giving you a starting line up position.

But there are problems, and unfortunately they are quite large.

1. Because you always start with a shit character, the animation system gets in the way of you being able to do anything. So, for an example, when receiving the ball, your character will instead, let it bounce off him, then get tangled up on the super-AI opposition, lose his balance like a spacker, spin round on the spot, wobble, then watch as the ball simply bounces off you to another enemy AI.

2. The opposition AI know the game a lot better than you do. They read your predictable passes, and stop them… Every single one of them – because the passing system is fundamentally broken, any intended pass ends up in the oppositions possession. Any optimistic long-ball pass, you guessed it, ends up in the oppositions possession. Any throw-in, anything.

3. Even if you pick your position as a Centre Forward, because your stats are so shit, the “manager” will put you as a side mid-field. He will never play you up front because you’re not as good as Cisse on paper. – And because you’re not playing up front, you’re not scoring consistently, or performing very well, because being a side mid-fielder who can’t pass isn’t particularly useful, So your ratings aren’t that good, So the manager doesn’t play you as a “first team player” – so you get subbed on or off, every game.

4. Then, at some point during a match, you’ll be one-on-one with the keeper, practically walking towards him with the ball at your feet. One of two things is going to happen, first, the opposition defender will probably simply walk in front of you and take the ball from you, (and I do mean walk, without even a hint of a tackle or challenge, they simply take the ball from you) – or two, and much much worse, you actually pull off a shot, which is akin to having a haircut by a rapist.

5. So there you are, stuck with shit stats, being subbed every game, being played in the wrong position, and desperately fighting the fucking AI cunts who are capable of blocking every single thing you do. And then your team mates- because you’re so shit, stop passing you the ball. Even when you’re stood in the oppositions half, on your own, with no-one within two miles of you, they’ll still pass the ball backwards. And then lose it, because they are cunts, and the opposition striker will then glide past you and your team mates and stick a goal in.

6. Or maybe, your team will fluke an early goal, this is a dreaded scenario, because within twenty seconds of your team scoring, the opposition suddenly become ball-possession super-mutants, who simply fuck with the laws of the space time continuum and become impossible to take the ball off. Pro-Evolution has always raped the AI when you score, so that they become much more skilled. Even fucking Bognor Regis become super-footballing-gods when they are 1-0 down in the first half. But in Become a legend mode, it’s made all the worse because you are a single guy and can do approximately bollocks all about it. Seriously, you might as well just put the joypad down and watch because you simply cannot stop a corner with a header, you cannot clear a bouncing ball in the box because your stats are so wank, and you can’t dribble it out either because that’s just fucking doomed.

7. And to top all that, the you’ve obviously buggered the referee’s wife before the game. If you press the X button, you’ll get a yellow card. Honestly, it doesn’t matter if you make a challenge that so obviously got the ball that the ball has your fucking name sewn onto it, it’s a yellow. Or if you tackled from anything but head-on, it’s a red. I went so far as to actually physically remove the blue button from my joypad. As this button is also shoot, it’s a bit of a problem for a normal striker, but not me, because I’m fucking side mid-fucking-field.

8. The in-between match screens are fucking hideous, Not only are they slow, but they are fucking awfully laid out. There is no way on earth you can see the line up of a team that isn’t your next team. So you can’t go and see how Barcelona play, (for their inevitable transfer request) – so you’ll end up playing in a team that plays 4-5-1 again, and you’ll be a side midfield again. Want to find out how many goals you’ve scored for your team? Well, good luck mate, cos you’ll never fucking find it.

9. But it’ll all be okay, because you’ll power up eventually. Play out of your skin, score two goals, set up three and watch as you get a 6.5 on the rating… What the fuck? How can a hat-trick hero get subbed off? Why do I only have 5.5 – OH, it’s because I’ve only made 1 “interception” – which I assume means tackle, or block of a pass. So a strikers primary goal in life isn’t to score goals, it’s to make interceptions. The “manager” rating system is the following formula.

Rating = ((Number_of_interceptions – number_of_goals) / time_on_pitch) * Rand()

10. But that’s alright because the game is just so enjoyable you won’t be able to put it down, you’ll look forward to every other game thinking “this is my chance now!” – “I’ll do better in this game!” – but you won’t, it’s impossible. You’d have to be a sadist to enjoy this fucking game.

11. I thought the Japanese made RPG’s – you know, with depth, and with stats and attributes, and back stories (that bore to me tears) and options, and shit characters with animal ears. I thought that was their bag. So why then, does it always go to shit when they make a sports game? Why do they have the depth of a paddling pool? Why can’t I be interviewed by people after a game for my honest (or not so honest) opinion of the match? Why don’t I get the bottle of champagne for being Man of the match? Why can’t I negotiate with the boss for more money? Why doesn’t my manager give me a pep-talk during half time? Why don’t I see any specific instructions from a foxy chick holding a clipboard? Why DO I NEVER- EVER- EVER take a corner/freekick/penatly? (Honestly the post match screen has these stats listed, so it’s presumably possible, but why do I never take anything?)

12. Edit: I thought of a new one – it’s all going to be okay though, perhaps putting the game on four stars difficulty at the beginning was a mistake. It’s taken you five seasons to realise it, but perhaps you’d enjoy it more if you knocked down the difficulty a bit, you know, just whilst your stats are shit, you’ll put it back up when you become a football god… “I know, I’ll go to the options now and do just that now” you’ll say… You’ll go to the options, and you’ll see that everything is grey’d out and unselectable. Apart from the match length time, you can alter that…. (but as, all that does, is determine how much of a football match you’re going to have to watch before coming on as a sub, it’s pretty fucking A useless too.) – So to alter the difficulty, you have to basically start again, with a shit-skilled character again… On easy… Which then can’t be turned UP when you do become too good. So, the purpose of having a “difficulty setting” is……..?

Basically, this mode is fucking shite. I hate it, I don’t know why I’m even bothering, I guess it’s because I so fundamentally hate the game that I want to see how bad it can possibly be. Pro-evolution is fucking dead to me. Unless I read “Seabass dies in horrific sex spack-attack”, I am never ever ever going to buy another Pro Evo again. You’ve had my money too many times you cunt, I’m going to sell pirate copies of Pro Evolution 2010 on eBay, for a loss. THAT’s how much I hate the fucking game

I want to play with my national side. That’s it. I’m going to keep going till I get an international call up… Then I’m going to go give Norman “Seabass’s” address.

Is Seabass the most shitty name you’ve ever heard for a pseudonym? It’s not “D34thBringeR” now is it?

Now, I wasn’t going to pick on Braid, I was going to just nod and go “yeah yeah” and turn the page whenever anyone does those “top-100 lists of games of 2008″ and inexplicably puts this game at number.. like. 2..

Lets be clear here. I’ve only managed to play braid in short bursts. It’s just never sat right with me. Sure, the time manipulation idea is quite cool, but it’s by no means new.

But what really gets my goat is the way the story is provided, I fucking hate it, it’s pretentious to a point of almost making me wonder “Is the guy who made this a complete twat, or is he being pseudo ironic and actually making a statement about how all games are pretentious and his is no different”… but then I realise that I was right with my first assumption.

Reams and reams of text that’s written by a fucking spacker is not my idea of great gaming. So you’ve split up with your doris, great, I know, instead of writing a critically acclaimed independent platform game with loads of new unique elements. Why not fuck off instead? Loser.

And then we move on to my two biggest fucking problems with this game. Encapsulated with this perfect screenshot.

Firstly, cast your eyes over that “ladder” climbing system. A trellis. Now, go out to your garden and find a trellis. Got it? Good? Notice anything about your real trellis?

Oh THATS FUCKING RIGHT. IT’S NOT CAPABLE OF FREELY STANDING AGAINST THE FUCKING SKY – AND ITS NOT FUCKING PERFECTLY RECTANGULAR EITHER.

ARGH. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. It hurts my fucking eyes. I can’t stand it, why did they do this to the game? Why did the put in climbing trellis’s that look so fucking hideous? Argh!, they just don’t look right. Honestly, this alone made me not like the game. Nothing to do with the cockfaced author, but because of the fucking trellis’s in the game – That’s how *I* roll mother fucker.

Second up, when I play games. I want to be a dwarf named gilius the thunder dwarf, who goes around with his fit barbarian honey twatting pygmy’s in the sack and generally being a cool mother fucker. Or maybe I want to be a pimp driving a Ferrari around corners far too quickly whilst my blonde headed bimbo sits next to me wagging her finger as I happily ignore her. Or maybe I want to be a slightly homo-looking martial arts expert looking for sailors.

However, I do not, repeat do not, want to look like a twat. Like a car-salesman twat. I don’t want to have a massive head on a suited body. I don’t want flowing red hair. I don’t want to be THIS TWAT.

I don’t want to look like a cross between Harry fucking Potter and Elijah fucking Wood. But, if you are going to make me look like a twat, at least let me have a fucking cool move that allows me to transcend my earthly looks and prove that I am actually fucking cool…. whats that?… Oh, a bottom bounce?…. Nicked from Mario 20 years back?….. Oh yeah.. Bafta fucking award then.

Final Conclusion: Anyone who defends braid as a “masterpiece” is a fucking tit who knows twat about games. Disagree? Good. I care fucking not.

You know it’s a slow news year when you hit number 17 of your “comparison” articles on Eurogamer.

How many times can someone write… “it loads a bit faster on Xbox360, looks a bit better on PS3, but ultimately the game is exactly the same”

I mean, it’s a simple cut and paste job, but I think somewhere we’re missing the fundamental fucking point.

No-one actually gives a shit. And anyone who does give a shit is a fucking retard who is wasting their life force giving a shit about things that really don’t matter.

We’re not in the SNES vs Megadrive era any more. There isn’t a mode seven or opacity tricks, one doesn’t have a better audio processor over the other, the technical differences are so minuscule nowadays that it becomes irrelevant.

Please, for the love of god can we just move on from comparison videos and trying to ignite the format console war of the bygone era. Yes, Amiga vs ST, C64 vs Speccy, Snes vs Megadrive, they were wars because there were actually differences.

And here we finally rest on my point. (I KNEW there was one) – Making comparison VIDEOS is a complete and utterly fucking retarded thing to do. Seriously, it’s one of the most basically fundamentally thick fucking ideas I’ve ever seen.

Sure, the concept is sound, record the same bit of a game, split the video down the middle, label, publish, sit back in awe as people play spot the difference. Awesome idea..

Except… Hold on, What technology are you using here?

Right, so I’m assuming you’re pumping the signal through a composite or S-video cable, into a DVD-R machine perhaps, which is compressing it from whatever resolution the signal is in to a compressed lossy MPEG2/Div X codec.

Then, when that hardware is finished fucking about with it, you’ll rip a .vob file from a DVD, convert it back into a new video format that is, again, compressed.
Then you upload it to your website, and even with broadband, you’re looking at about 80mb for a minute of footage in a web-codec. Lets assume DivX

So basically, simply in the transition from PS3/Xbox 360 to Web Site video, your footage has been compressed/decompressed/compressed again all in a majorily lossy format. So any clarity that you’re trying to identify and compare is no longer there because of the format you’ve fucking picked.

Therefore, making your video completely, and utterly fundamentally fucking useless.

It is ONLY possible to do these comparison videos in a native uncompressed video. And those fuckers are big. We’re talking hundreds upon hundreds of megabytes – and I suppose you could pump the signal from the hardware directly into a PC and save it there, but as soon as you pump it through any sort of compression Codec, what you see is not what the PS3/Xbox360 is pumping out.

FUCKING COCKS.

Now, let me get this straight from the start so that we’re all clear. I’m not against all piracy in the games industry. (Unfortunately it’s just one of those necessary evils – I’m cool with it, you should be too, I like to exact my revenge by downloading Music and Films all over the shop*)

The number of people who’ve contacted me about “R4″ and the such like cartridges after christmas this year almost takes the piss. Seriously, I can count 10 or so people who’ve all approached me and said “I got a DS for Christmas, where can I get a dodgy cartridge so I can download loads of games and not pay for shit”

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I consider myself being able to find and download pirated stuff, kind of like an industry perk. If you make games, you expect them to be copied, so therefore, you’re almost allowing other people to download your games and play them. I wouldn’t expect Id, for example, to pay for any game I’ve made, I’d let them freely pirate it and play it and then hire me. (So I can teach them good gameplay and all that – Thanks Squidy, but you knew I’d always get the final say )

I sort of see it as a right, I’m allowed to download shit, because my shit gets downloaded and I don’t really mind.

It’s the people who have no input to the games industry that I don’t necessarily enjoy watching rip our games. It’s just inevitable. (And for another post, completely solvable too – I’ll discuss that one day)

Anyway… Back to the people requesting I load up a DS hack-cartridge with Barbie games because I have the technical knowledge and know how to do it (for them)….

Although I’d love to say, whenever I get such a request, I kick them in the twat and say “FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING VILLAIN! – You’re the reason I don’t get fucking completion bonuses, and to fucking ask me to facilitate your fucking enjoyment for nothing, is tantamount to me asking you to let me fuck your wife, then ask you to roof my house, and re-install the wiring.”

I don’t say this, unfortunately, but I don’t go out of my way to make it easy for them either. “Yeah, search online for one, then go and download the firmware, then buy and SD card, then copy the games over, and yeah, that’ll work”

I spent a good long chunk of my life not fingering girls behind the bikesheds, or mastering how to play pool, or being cool and learning the names of all the opening moves to chess. (Although I often bluff this when playing chess and say “Oh the reverse dixon, I’ve not seen that since I used a combination of mariot versus old-detroit style”)

The reason I didn’t do all these things was because I was playing with my joystick – fnar fucking fnar. Or I was learning MS-DOS, or I was figuring out what the fuck twos compliment meant and how it could be ignored for the rest of my single bastard life.
I spent these formative years of my life being a socially inept twat, not so you don’t have to, but in reality, to make me millions upon millions of pounds.

It really irritates me to see “Computeach” adverts on TV – They sort of go like this:-

VOICE: “Are you a social shithead who has a shitty job at woolworths?”
VOICE: “No career prospects? No money? Big Jigsaw shaped hole in your minge?”
VOICE: “WELL NO LONGER!!!1! – YOU CAN BECOME AN I.T. PROFESSIONAL AND EARN SHIT LOADS OF CASH BY SATURATING AN ALREADY SATURATED FUCKING MARKET OF ILL TRAINED I.T. FUCKING PROFESSIONALS!”

I hate how computers have become the “easy out” – I long for the days when you needed a six hour training course just to teach you how to get past the bios.

This brings me (finally) onto my point. There’s a shop down my road which is ran by a complete twat, (I say he’s a complete twat, even though I don’t know him, because he drives one of these – Have you ever seen a bigger twats car than that?)

And on his mobile phone shop window, he has an A4 piece of paper with “R4 Nintendo DS HackCartridge for sale here., £25.99″ – Now that’s really taking the piss, isn’t it? – Surely that’s not allowed. Surely the police will one day clap eyes on that and see that? Aren’t R4 cartridges completely illegal?

Or are they? I dunno…

And hence, dear viewers, it’s time to play Fighting Fantasy “Screw You Hippy”

Turn to Page 399 if you want to send a letter to F.A.S.T and get the fucker shut down and so he’ll have to sell his lovely Audi.

or

Turn to page 42 if you want to just ignore this sign and move on your merry way to somerfield.

Did you ever notice that in Final Fantasy books, if the number was above 300, it meant certain death? – It’s true. One of the most annoying ever pages I’ve ever read in one of the FF series was “Turn to page 15 – You wake to find it was all a dream. Game over”

* – Caveat Emptor – This is a joke, I don’t really download loads of music and movies at all, this was used for comic effect. Please don’t send the filth round to my address, please, I’m only kidding. I don’t even have a PC. I’m writing this using a cheese wire, a baked bean tin and a mouse. (The kind that goes squeek – No, I’m not talking about my old squeeky ball-mouse – I’m talking about oh, never mind)

Fucking awesome pirate graphic was nicked from here – In an attempt at Irony, I appreciate that taking this artwork and using for my own purposes is completely against deviantarts spirit of copyright and completely infringes all their rules, but a) I don’t care, and b) it’s about fucking piracy for fucksake… oh, and C) this image was drawn by this guy who is far and away too talented.

As we all know, games writing is a bullshit art. Seriously overpaid people who think that they can put as much detail of story into a game whilst the player is concentrating on blasting the fuck out of a brumak on insane.

Just to make everyone clear, I think that “stories” in games are the anus of games, to be perfectly frank, barring a very few rare exceptions, I do not give a fucking shit about stories in games. In fact, I think games are medium where we should transcend stories altogether and brace yourself let the player make up his own story. Hey, now there’s a fucking novel [pun pun] idea.

And so when I wake up this morning with a rapidly cooling coffee, and click Kotaku to see Rhianna Pratchett spouting off about the subject indicating that “integrating story people into the development team is the future” – it kind of irritates me.

Why does this bother me?

Well Mirrors Edge has possibly got one of the most waffer thin “stories” I’ve ever fucking experienced in a game. I god damn tried to like the fucking game, but just can’t. The controls are hit and miss, and in a world where controls are so important, it’s inexcusable.

Secondly, and this is the more applicable point for this post is-
Every single interesting bit of the game is shown to you in a cutscene. So horribly ripped off from “thief: the dark project” but not carried out with anywhere near as much style. See, these fucking developers think that ‘no one will spot it if we nick that cool idea from a game in the 1990’s’ – Wrong.

Course – I’m not adverse to saying that copying good things is okay, it’s fine, it’s how we learn after all, but copying and making significantly worse is an entirely different kettle of bastard.

So, lets assume these cut-scenes are where the story is being told. (And it seriously is as thin as cling film) – Why are they 2d cartoons? Is that supposed to be stylish and cool and hip and trendy and an EA thing to do? Why do they have exciting bits that I have to Watch why not have me actually taking part in them, are we not there yet? (Ref: Half Life ~ 1998)

Hold the phone then when you start sharing your wisdom when you are obviously not fucking qualified to do so. Just because you worked on a game that gets media coverage doesn’t instantly make it a fucking diamond that did everything right.

It’s like “Mouse Month” or something over on the BBC news technology page or something.

We’ve had top previous headliners such as “1 billionth mouse created, In other news, cat’s breath a sigh of relief”

And now they have “Celebrating 40 years of the mouse” – which even has a video of lovable doug engelbart doing the first ever demonstration of a mouse. Amazingly, he didn’t swear once when he got a hair trapped in the ball. Jesus, I remember when I had to clean my fucking mouse every two seconds… Mind you, I probably shouldn’t have been using my local tramps carpet as a mouse mat.

And then third, we have “Oh watch out, You’re going to die from RSI if you’ve ever used a mouse” – now in my best “Some of my friends are gay so I don’t think gay’s are complete gay fuckers” way, I’m going to say categorically, that RSI induced by typing and using a mouse is completely, and utterly, made up.

I mean, I estimate I’ve used a mouse every single day for the last… 17 years? A keyboard longer than that. I think it’s fair to say the word “repetitive” when discussing my computer usage. And is my hand a useless claw yet?
No?

Admittedly, since starting typing this it has started to hurt, but maybe that’s just cos I slept on it or something. Maybe I was out punching ice blocks like in Rocky last night, I really don’t think it’s anything to do with my overuse of a mouse.

This argument has absolutely zero basis in fact at all.

Thanks.

Please feel free to use the comments to call me an arse and claim you’ve got RSI in your hand so bad that you’re now called the “Cunting hook handed mullah of Twat”

Readers of Major Nelson will know that a) the new theme he’s made is, without a doubt, the most hideous selection of colours in human history. And b) his commenter’s are complete fucktards.

The above link shows what I’m talking about.

Every single Xbox live Arcade member has complained about the lack of “free stuff” – and so when they do actually release something for nowt. (Although I’m not exactly blown away by it to be fair, it’s a nice little idea and hopefully a sign of things to come)

I now draw your attention to the following comment.

Anon 3
only gold members? this sucks

Hey.. I know, I’ve got this *crazy* fucking idea. Why not go and buy a fucking gold membership you cheap cunt? – I’m being totally funny when I say that I’m an elitist cunt and think that anyone who cannot afford to pay 40 quid or whatever it is A YEAR for a gold membership should be stoned to death.

I mean it’s the price of a game for fucksake, it’s not like it’s 40 quid a month. Jesus christ, people want everything for fucking free nowadays and it’s doing my twat in. The only possible reason that I think ANYONE doesn’t have a gold membership to Xbox live is because they are a massive twat and use Xlink Kai or something (and if you do use this, then you’re an even bigger cheap twat)

I’m sure there are some script kiddies out there who could argue that 40 quid is a lot of money, but then my retort to them is “fuck off and get a job” – I was earning 80 quid a week when I was 16. Sure, my back passage was raged by sailors, but still, it was good decent hard earned money and I spent it on alcopops and games.

The way it fucking well should be.

You haven’t lived if you haven’t been in a Blackpool arcade whilst playing Outrun and some pedophile offers you to do your gear stick for you. — True Story.

Admittedly, going back to the post in question it is, on the whole, remarkably positive for something so fundamentally fucking useless. (As I view all snow globes as fundamentally fucking useless I can hardly level this criticism only at Microsoft)

The other type of comment that really gets my fucking goat is…

Louie:
“meh”

Now I know it’s cool to be all anti-establishment and to be all teenage fucking angsty and shit. My only real comment is to fuck off and die please. Now.

Seriously, if you’re so fucking down with the kids and everything is like, sooo beneath your mighty intellect, why not get the fuck out and prove it. Is it really entirely fucking necessary to post your haughty disdain for something by simply saying “meh” whenever ANYTHING happens.

Why do this? Why the fuck do you think that anyone wants to fucking listen to your fucking opinion? And if you’re that fucking conceited that you think anyone does actually care that you don’t care about anything because you’re fucking “kewl” – Why not air your fucking opinion, instead of a single word meme you fucking arsewipe.

I crave the day when the internet isn’t anonymous. That’s it’s biggest problem, the day when you have to type your postal address in whenever you want to comment is too far off in my opinion. Purely because I’d happily spend whatever traveling costs involved to go and find this louie and twat the fucker with a baseball bat.

“hi, on December 10th, did you post on an internet forum “meh”
“SAY MEH, SAY IT!” – *TWAT TWAT TWAT*
“SAY IT AGAIN YOU FUCKING WASTE OF SPACE, SAY IT… I DARE YOU” – *BIFF BAFF BOFF*

Oh alright, I’ll post something about the new BBC ‘Drama’ called Survivors – (I’ve just broken number #2 of my cardinal sins of blog post writing. “Don’t pretend that people are asking you to write things like you’re popular or nuffink”)

Before reading further into this post, please bear in mind that there are Spoilers and I can’t be arsed writing a specific spoilers CSS tag to hide them when you’ve not got your mouse selection highlighting them or whatnot.

And number 2, I’ve been playing a LOT of Left 4 Dead on PC and Xbox (yes, I capitulated and bought it on both)

Now, I know Survivors isn’t about a zombie apocalypse, but the same rules apply, for basic survival in a anarchic state – get yourself three things (and in this order) – 1. Weaponry, 2. Weaponry, 3. Weaponry.

With those three basic survival tools, you are much more likely to procure whatever else you like.

Honestly, these guys have apparently been some of the last (what was it now? 10% of the Human race) – I’m serious when I say I’ve been in Airport waiting lounges before now and wondered “where is my nearest weapon.. just in case, you know ” – I always sum up probably airport security, although getting it off their zombified ass’s might be quite tricky.

(On another note entirely, I once had a conversation with an Armed Airport security man about the weaponry selection of the Heckler and Koch Mp5n as a stable accurate shooting platform in a populated area like a busy Airport, he frowned upon my suggestion that he should probably look for something a little more accurate. He then asked where I was basing my information, and I responded “Counter Strike” — True Story)

And so the survivors bumble around in a big ol’ stately mansion, going to the Same Shopping area to loot food. I mean, surely that’s a basic mistake, if you’ve been threatened by a double barreled shotgun wielding mother fucker “not to come back” – going back is probably not the smartest move. Unless of course, you’re now carrying an assortment of semi automatic machine gunnery.

No, fuck looting lidl, go to the nearest police station, break into the ‘reclaimed guns department’ they’re bound to have, and find a fucking “how to shoot bad dudes” book.

Second up, go to your nearest army barracks. Same thing applies, Oh, and nick a Harrier jumpjet whilst you’re there.

Next up in “things to do whilst being the last mother fucker alive” list is, Fortify your big stately mansion – Duur, remember that thing that you’re going round doing? Looting? Yep, remember that? Well, there’s a … roughly, 10% chance that there are Other mother fuckers out there doing the same thing, and lets face it, big stately fucking manors are at the top of the list.

Yes, basically, if I ever wake up and find myself one of the last douche bags alive, you bet your ass I’ll be mad-maxing it up before you can say “Hey you guys”.

P.s. It occured to me just how many “phrases I dislike” I nearly tried to use in this post. For example, “Of course”, “Being Serious”, “But seriously”, “Honestly”, “True Story”

One thing that really fucking annoys me is people using HTML tags in places where it really doesn’t apply. Like in an E-mail, or a forum comment.

It’s such a smarmy twat way to say you’re a dick. “Oh, I know a few tags in HTML so therefore I can go around using ‘clever’ invented ones that I made up to show just how fucking L33t I am”

<Repeat after me>YOUR HTML SKILLS SUKETH</Repeat after me>

The problem – however, is that the HTML tags you’re using don’t actually exist. I’ve scoured all over w3schools and cannot find a single reference to <Rant>

Sure, you can define custom HTML tags, if you are a big twat, fine, go for it. But again, all you’re demonstrating is that you’re not very good at keeping up to date.

If you want to show how fucking ace you are, go learn brainfuck, (although, to be fair, I am extremely tempted to learn LOLCode)

Those kinds of <GEEK> T-shirts annoy me too. I consider this annoyance a general, all round, honest to goodness, awesomely umbrella annoyance.

Edit: to almost completely rip the space/time/irony paradox a new arsehole, the funky new html tags in this very post fucked up. Fucking wordpress.

I wrote a post a while ago about how to improve Pro Evolution Soccer. (Although it does go on a bit randomly about being red wizard from the gauntlet games too)

Anyway, it’s good to see Seabass isn’t listening to me one bit and has made PES 2009 essentially the same game as the old one, and no doubt I’ll buy it and post exactly the same “suggested improvements”…

So in an effort to double my chances of video game producers actually listening to me, here’s a list of improvements that Tiger woods 2009 should implement.

- If you’re going to release the game so obviously timed with the ryder cup, why not, I dunno, include the ryder cup?
- Let me introduce a new phrase to you guys at EA. It’s called “Server migration” and it has been in use for approximately twenty billion years. When the server quits out of the game, don’t just quit the game how about, I dunno, making one of the OTHER xbox’s the server. I mean, they can easily be the server anyway after a bit of setting up. How fucking easy is it to do it on a GOLF game.
- For god sake sort out some sort of method for hitting the ball 30-50 yards predictably, the punch shot doesn’t work anywhere like predictable, and no club can be tuned to that range.
- Where are the divets in the ground? Do you not watch real golf? I’m not being funny or owt, but seriously, comparing TW09 to real golf shouldn’t have such a huge difference. It’s not like you’re chucking around a billion particle effects now are ya?
- Particle Effects – Funny, when I watch the raging sea, it doesn’t just intersect with cliffs.
- That howling wind noise is wank and the loop is far too small. It makes me want to eat my own face in anger thinking that someone was paid for that.
- There simply isn’t any weather, yes, wind, but no rain… Come on… When I’m playing in fucking January in Scotland, What the fuck am I doing wearing a T-shirt? – I’d be dead by hole 3.
- Where is the caddie? How about your golf cart that you can customise with pimped out wheels and things? How about your golf bag. The caddie could do cool things like, hand you your club, or pick up some grass and drop it, say how he banged twelve bitches last night.
- Not during tournament play, how come you’re the only one on the course, why are there not people playing in front of you.
- You call that a crowd? It’s wank.
- Anti Aliasing is your friend. I’m sure there’s a #define somewhere that you’ve commented out that says something like “Enable Anti Aliasing”
- The commentary is WANK – And I do mean wank, you’re wanker than Pro Evolution Soccer, tell me, why can’t the commentators actually behave like commentators, making little jokes and chatting between themselves about your play. For reference, go and play the EA NFL games.
- See above, the commentary is wank, I mean, “That is a master right there” every single time I sink a birdie is pissing me off.
- Make the game a tinsy winsy bit more difficult, Sure I can go to “tour pro mode” but I don’t want to lose the features that make it fun, like the ball spin and things. Just make it so your stats don’t go from 0 to 12 in four swings of the bat, or whatever it’s called.
- Go and download a Gametrailers video of the crysis editor. Why on fucking gods earth can we not make our own courses? It’s simple. Here is the source code:-

10 Generate Height Map
20 Provide player with some height map manipulation tools. Copy these from PlanetSourceCode
30 Allow the player to paint on bunkers, greens, fairway.
40 Allow player to spray down trees and other items.
50 goto 10

You’re just being lazy.
- Look at real golfers. They do not have nicknames like “Princess” and they do not dance after every fucking birdie – UNLESS they are American, when they just behave like 4 year old cunts.
- Please, for the love of god, get rid of the “post shot” animations after EVERY. FUCKING. SHOT.
- Artists. Take a look at real grass, and real rough. What the fuck are you looking at for reference? Grass isn’t one single colour.
- Do we *really* need a load every single bloody hole? Honestly? Really? – Do we though? – I mean, why not asynchronously load during game play? Amazingly, what you could do is drip feed the data from the disk whilst the player is watching the repetitive as shit animations… Now that’d be fucking cool wouldn’t it?

And here are some new USP back of the box things:-

- Have the players model talk when they talk. Have the other players spectating each shot if you spin the camera around (it’ll still work in simultaneous play, honest)
- Time of day.. Funnily, Golf takes a long time to play… Amazing eh?
- A clubhouse that stores 3d representation of your winners trophies, captains tournaments, playing joe public, let the player buy an S-Type jaguar, (that was a joke) – let the player get a little bit pissed on whiskey one day and chat up the 40 year old barmaid that isn’t really that fit but is the only female within two hundred miles, so you probably would.
- “I don’t want to play any Yanks” tick box for the servers. That’d be ace too. Screaming little shites.

Along with “hit the jump” used on hyperlinks. Another internet phrase that is annoying me greatly is the following:-

“Video not working? Upgrade your Flash”

“Not streaming? Upgrade your Flash version. Videos auto-playing? Fix it.”

that is akin to saying

“Car not started this morning? Learn mechanics, go to the shop, buy spark plugs, insert them, turn on your fucking car again, it’s not my fucking problem, even though I made the fucking car”

It really is annoying me now that the internet is allowed to get away with none-backwards compatibility because they can blame it all on flash, JUST because they want to use a new function call in Flash 08 – which probably does nothing better than Flash 0.1.

I suggest these new phrases should be implemented immediately…

“Video not working? Oh Fuck, funny that cos YouTube works, so therefore our videos obviously aren’t following standards correctly, so therefore, please feel free to e-mail us and call us cunts”

“Flash out of date? Who are you? What the fuck are you Doing on the internet? JESUS don’t you keep Flash updated daily?!? I mean, who wouldn’t want to be on the bleeding edge of the shittest internet farce since google invented it”

“I’m a big teutonic twat”

I favour three

Oh, Sorry, I now realise that it’s not “Ask a complete random fucking person for his opinion week” – Who gives a flying fuck what Noel Gallagher thinks about computer games?

That’s like me giving a cunt what his political views are. He has no knowledge of the subject and therefore should shut the fuck up. I wouldn’t go around saying “Oasis were always a bit shit really” to prove he knows nothing, he’s commented that Guitar Hero is a good game, HMMM, I wonder why he did that.. Let me think now..

But that doesn’t annoy me the most, the most annoying bit is the reportage of it all, I mean, this particular quote has arrived on literally tens of gaming websites. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what he thinks about, well, anything.

Can everyone stop using “Hit the jump” when referring to a hyperlink. “After the jump” is also on my list of phrases that apparently sound cool, but actually are fucking wank.

Right next to. “I drive an Alfa Romeo”

Dear Sir/Madam,

I thought it necessary to write to you to point out how fundamentally useless your website is. Whomever you are paying for technical assistance in making your website, you should immediately fire, as they are currently skiving off work and have, instead of fixing the numerous problems, decided to put the catch-all error of “Our technicians are aware of this problem and are currently looking into it”

With no word of over-exaggeration, this error message has been persistently appearing for me since 2006. Either your technicians are slower than the M1 at 5:30pm or someone has seriously gone amiss.

I find that your website is covered in useful features and handy little areas of info, Unfortunately, I also find that actually clicking on any of these areas or features displays this catch-all error message. This gives me the impression that your website is actually a complete joke. Aimed to purely frustrate the user at every turn.

I also note that the “billing and payments” area of the website works perfectly, which is interesting, because thats the bit that actually makes Orange PLC its money isn’t it? Is it just coincidence that the “upgrade your phone” area does not work? And why would a cynical person such as myself suggest that this “upgrading” of your phone also costs Orange PLC money?

Let us both be honest with each other here, it’s in your interests to keep your customers “contract expiry date” as cloaked as possible isn’t it? You don’t want them knowing an exact day as this would prompt a quick upgrade request. No, much better to give them vague dates whenever asked and say “well, it was 18 months since you last renewed, which could have been 19 months ago before you remembered and decided to phone customer services”

I only wanted to have a look at the new handsets using your website. Unfortunately for both of us, I couldn’t. I’d love to dangle the carrot of claiming “I’m leaving orange the next opportunity I can” but to be frank, I probably won’t because I’m fundamentally lazy. Like your webmaster. We both know I’ll keep paying and that’s probably fine.

Anyway, I just wanted to write this letter to waste someones time, call it revenge for wasting my time whilst using your website. Thanks for reading.

Yours not at all sincerely,

Chris Jones
http://www.screwyouhippy.com

Top Gear then, right from the very off, let me make it hugely clear, I’m a big fan. Honestly. So before I go off ranting I just want to clear that up. I have nearly all of Clarksons books, (and quite a few of the others) – and apart from trying to stand in the crowd on the show (looks at Sharky) – I religiously tune in.

My biggest ranting point however, is this new “six show” format they have. It’s winding me up, Surely they didn’t always just do six shows a series and then have a massive twenty week break before coming back?

I know that the production values have obviously gone through the roof (I can’t imagine flying to Japan, filming a couple of cars, then jumping into spitfires and flying to Germany can be cheap) – but come on. Six shows?

I think because it’s so obviously gone big budget, they now feel that each part of the show has to be either, Dramatic, Comedy, or one of those races / car comparisons. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a stick in the mud where they have to review “normal” cars, (I absolutely hate that argument – I’m seriously not interested in watching a Lexus being driven around a track).

But the one thing they really need to start looking at is the following predictability.

Clarkson will always win, be the last doing anything important and will always get the final word. Fair do’s, it’s his show, but it makes the other two presenters come across as a bit weaker than they did years ago, (where there was a real sense of being on an even keel)

James May will always be in the slow car, fair enough, but Richard Hammond will ALWAYS crash into him pretending that his “brakes have failed” – yes, it was funny the first time in the classic super cars but since then, it’s like brake failure happens in every single car ever made, it’s not funny now. We now expect it whenever they park up.

The set-up jokes are wearing off. I know they have to be set up because that’s what entertainment is, but a few “none-jokes” wouldn’t go amiss either. I mean, I have cobbles near me, and not once has my door fallen off. (And seriously, I’ve driven across them in some cars where I expected it).

Last nights final episode they took on the Germans, surprise surprise, they won in the final race. Yes, it makes for interesting television, but we really wouldn’t have minded if you hadn’t.

I think the biggest sign that the format has changed is that my girlfriend has stopped watching it as keenly as she did. (Which is a pity because it was pretty much the only thing we could agree to watch that didn’t end in “street” or “ers”)

My biggest worry however, is that I don’t know what to suggest to make things better.. Perhaps apart from dropping the six show format and going for, I dunno, Eight? And spacing out the obviously set up jokes a bit more? (That being said, the trips across Africa, the North Pole and America are certainly the funniest ones ever – and I think that’s because it was genuinely funny, as in, not set up.)

Oh and another thing: If Simon Cowell is reading this, I think Jay Kay cheated to get to the number one spot. Since when have they been allowed 9 laps and then the fastest time picked from it? That’s bollocks, isn’t it supposed to be, 8 Practice laps and then a final hot lap? I only mention this because every time they start their fast lap, people in the past have said stuff like “come on, this is it” and “here we go”.

Here’s a WikiPedia article to reinforce my shit.

My love for Jeff Minter is well documented but sometimes I do honestly wonder if he’s just fucking with us.

For those not “with it”, here’s the gambit in an easy to digest blockquote…

Jeff Minter is a pseudo game developer from the early 80’s and arguably 90’s – His games have three main attributes in common. 1. They usually involve goats, llamas or other such animals, 2. They usually have graphics that have been drawn by a hippy blind man on acid, and 3. They are all fucking wank. (I’d love to argue the toss and say that there is a brilliant exception, but there just isn’t)

Anyway, not long back, Jeff released a game called “Space Giraffe” and simultaniously achieved two things, firstly, he won the Chris Jones award for THE shittest name of a game in history and secondly, the game was (correctly) universally slammed as a piece of dog turd, and it sales showed that Jeff has completely and utterly missed the point of Xbox Live arcade.

In defence of his game, he then went on to comment that games such as Frogger (which I agree IS shitty death), and PAC-MAN were nothing new and didn’t deserve the astronmical sales they achieved. Arguing that trying to do something “new” with XBLA in Space Giraffe hurt sales, even though the game is basically exactly the same as his past “efforts”

Now I see that he’s releasing another game Gridrunner +++ on the service he so happily slagged. So why? Why would a person who cosmically failed previously bother to try again?

Is it perhaps that Jeff knows he’s a dinosaur from a by-gone era where he was only semi-famous for making shit stoner games and in the modern world of “indie gaming” *spit spit* he’s a nobody with antiquated ideas of what makes a decent game?

I hope this one gets slammed to shit, and personally, I hope it’s a fucking amazing game. Cos that’ll Really piss him off.

Your rather annoying alarm goes off,
you get out of bed to a cold room,
you kick the cat, it retaliates on your poor defenceless naked feet,
you shower in cold water,
you empty a dishwasher determined to never wash a single thing in its life,
you run out of toothpaste,
you walk down the street behind someone intent on walking slowly, even though you’re late for work.
You get in your car, it chugs to life, low on petrol, which you forgot…
Wait for someone to reverse park behind you before moving off,
You drive to morrisons
You admire your empty wallet, you remember you need money for lunch,
You drive to a cash machine,
You watch a stranger have a game of credit-card pokemon with the machine – “let me show you them”
You watch the stranger type his three different pin numbers in whilst chatting on the phone, clearly not concentrating,
You watch him do this three times.
(chorus)
You watch him put the first card back in again and withdraw 10 whole pounds.
You eagerly, frantically put your card in the machine, intent on setting a new PIN-entry world record.
Beep-beep-beep-beep
You extract 30 whole British pounds from the machine
You don’t notice that the earlier cash-point abusing mother fucker has got into his car and moved over to the petrol station
You get back in your car
You turn up your music
You drive over to the petrol station, *aha!* you sneak past the queues of people who, for some reason, wait for pumps on the same side of their vehicle, (even when there are 8 empty spots for lefties)
You get out of your car
You…
You….
You watch as the stranger literally has a fight with the petrol pump. Kind of like one of those aliens off third rock from the soon – this is a completely new invention to this person.
You enjoy it slightly. Watching.
You fill your car – smiling at the nice police man who you just overtook in a petrol station.
You hear the gulp of your cash dancing down the hose into your infinite cash-bucket car.
You read 115.99 on the price.. Could be worse, it could be liquid gold.
You idly move towards the kiosk.
You stand behind the stranger who’s having a worse morning than you, you suddenly feel better.

Until the guy behind the counter says “that’ll be 10.56″ to the stranger… Who then promptly declares that he only has a tenner.

You wonder, not for the first time, if it’s possible to strangle someone to death with a fuel hose.

Obviously missing the plot of the film…

If someone overheard my conversation this morning it would have gone something like this..

(me) – “Yes, Yes!, I still love you, Yes, even more than my Nintendo DS – Yes, I know I’ve been spending an awful lot of time with my DS lately, but I’ve just been too busy and you make a lot of noise, No!, I’ve told you it’s not because of that trip to Germany, Yes, I know you’ve been with me three years and we’ve never had a single problem, I know all that, ”

*mumble mumble*

(me) – “No! – You’re not listening!, What?! WHAT NOW?!”

*more mumbling*

(me) – “OH FUCKING ALRIGHT, I ADMIT IT, I LOVE YOU SLIGHTLY LESS DUE TO THAT RED LIGHT OF DEATH – THERE! I’VE SAID IT!”

*mumbling*

(me) – “No!, I don’t care if you’ve got GTA IV, you broke when everyone was online enjoying it! – Oh, I see, like that is it? Have to link my joypads back together with you do I? I just can’t fucking forgive you…”

I hate to admit it, but I rarely finish things when I’ve started them. It really does bug me but I get bored quickly and move onto the next “big idea”…

And so, I thought I’d post screenshots of my unfinished projects and a little bit about them to see if anyone anyone? is even the slightest bit interested in me finishing them…

So without further adoo. Here we go. (in order of “most finished”)

Space Rogue

A space game like Nethack – it’s a cool idea, basically 2d Elite with tonnes and tonnes of replayabilty due to it’s open ended nature, with a randomly generated universe every time, I planned multiplayer in a big way as well as other things.
Gave up when I realised probably noone would play it.

Ebonstar remake

A remake of the Amiga classic Ebonstar (which is a remake of another game which eludes my brain at the moment) – This game was going to bring back the co-op glory of Ebonstar to a networked PC near you. Only it didn’t, because the netcode in GameMaker is complicated, and not that good (well, I couldn’t get it to play right) – and I couldn’t do any clever things with the net code to make it predict movements etc… So I gave up.

Pocket War

My newest foray into making a game, based roughly on a Saturn game called Dragon Force, this game has you controlling a miniture Army vs a horde of bad dudes. Currently all you can do is spray down a load of characters and watch them kick off against each other (which is, actually, quite amusing fun) – however, I’m probably going to give up on this one too as I’ve realised my background making talents are shite. (Contributions welcome)

Death Tank remake

Ahh Deathtank, ready for action. How I loved this game on the Sega Saturn, how bloody amazing is it that noone has remade it on PC with LAN capabilities, and everyone still plays worms, even though it’s shit. Gave up on this one when I realised two things, 1- Death tank is genius, and imitating it is amazingly difficult to do. 2- the destructable terrain capabilities of Game Maker aren’t all that great. (Specially given hectic multiplayer action)

Mortville manor remake

Well, to say this is a “remake” is a bit harsh really, it’s just half an altered screenshot. Which I’ve messed with in photoshop for a couple of minutes. As far as my “giving up” goes, this ranks pretty highly – Although I may do this game one day*…

* – probably not

And so there we have it, a sneak peek into my game-making hard drive of doom. One day I’m sure I’ll finish something enough to consider a release, but I seriously fucking doubt it at the moment….

Second in my list of really annoying things that are fucking me off at the moment is this (and I’ll then move onto the much more important #1 spot)

Imagine the scene.. A picture of a female posted on some blog/forum/anywhere friggin’ else – Now imagine the torrent of comments that follow “WOULD!” “Oh I definitely WOULD!” – “Oh I’d bang her up the A: Drive! LOL!” – “Oh I’d really love to insert my penis into her” – “WOULD! I’d Pwn!”

Seven thousand and forty seven comments later, you realise that they are actually talking about a cartoon character.

Of course you bloody would, you’re an internet fucking prick. You’d shag a paving slab if you thought it liked Manga.

Move over #2

Anyway – that’s not what is annoying me at the moment – this morning, I’ve woken with the shocking realisation that I, in fact, hate two words of the English dictionary. They are “Casual” and “Indie”
Now, sure, with the exception of the combinations of “Sex” and “music” post the above words, everything else is annoying me.

Yes my dear fellows, I’m actually talking about gaming. Casual games and Indie Games – I’m starting to see CV’s with “Indie” games written on them in their previous work history. Thinking, that for some reason, making a game using Game Maker 7, without funding, a publisher, and any sort of design documentation would constitute “real” game experience. It doesn’t.

And before the hippies get on to me and say “Whoa man, Indie games are all about, you know, fighting the power, and the conglomerates that own gaming man.. chill out” – lick my left fucking bollock you tit. Look who’s sponsoring your insignificant competitions. THATS RIGHT, it’s Microsoft. Look how many “Indie” games are appearing on more and more consoles, (To reel off a few) – “flOw”, “world of Goo”, “Crayon Physics”, “shitty spunk buckets of death” – it’s brilliant. It gives big name publishers a game that they can publish for toss all (even though, to you, a couple of hundred grand sounds like a lot) and completely eliminates development risks – so of course they’ll promote this sort of shit.

My point is this –

Casual

Casual is a term I fucking loathe when referring to games, why? Why? Because all fucking games are casual you fucking muppets. I don’t remember (barring maybe the exception of nethack) a game that actively sits down and says “Right fucker, you have homework tonight and I expect it done otherwise you’re going to get the slipper” – ALL games are played in free time, it’s just that some people have more free time than others (Students, chavs, spackers, that sorta thing) – Games have always been casual

You’re not going to tell me that Outrun was an intense gaming experience that required you to rank up before going online.
Space invaders, fuck me, it may as well have raped your mother the amount it asked of your personal time.

No, the term “Casual” is now being used to describe games such as Warioware, these games have existed for years, they were previously called “WANK Games”.

Jesus Christ, does no-one see? They’ve just renamed ‘wank games’ into ‘casual games’ and now they are selling by the truckload.

I can see the PR coke snorting cunt now… “Yeah, it’s like, all *snort* nice tits love, yeah where was I? Oh yeah, it’s like, casual now… Yeah, it’s *snort* How “Hi Tara! Darling!” Nice tits!, yeah, it’s sorta casual , yes, yeah, it’s called “Casual Poker Stars 2″ – yeah, poker’s the new black, and it’s casual. Yeah.. doesn’t require *snort* casual, erm, doesn’t require many many years of learning to get any good at it.. No, it’s casual”

Indie

Lets get one thing straight, right from the fucking off, Indie games, on the whole, are wank.

Yes, there are some shining exceptions, indeed, this very website chronicles quite a few of them to delight and amuse, but on the whole, most Indie games are one trick pony’s that don’t really do anything that new – sure, some may invent a new concept, perhaps a double jump, or maybe something one person thought was clever, but most of the platformers haven’t progressed anywhere beyond Sonic, (Mario is, and always has been, beyond the indie developer – there is NO platform game as well designed as Mario)

But the thing that really gets my goat with Indie development is the cheap and cheery wank graphics are cool feel to them.

Lets rewind a few years and look at some games…

DooM – completely without a publisher this game came out and pwn’d quite a few games on the market. Went on to become a global phenomena, sold quite a few copies…
Populous (alright, it could be argued Bullfrog were a publisher) – completely came out and pwn’d quite a few games on the market. Went onto become a global phenomena, sold quite a few copies…
Elite…
Manic Fucking Miner
Every game Pre-1990

Indie development isn’t a new concept, the entire fucking industry was indie once upon a time, stop slinging the word around like it’s some sort of cool buzz fucking word, it isn’t. It just highlights that you’re new to the industry, know nothing, and shouldn’t be hired.

Cockerals.

Secondly, if someone hands me an “indie” game (which basically means, ‘done by someone in their bedroom’ with no idea of QA) – I can break it down into the component parts that are similar to other games, so for example, Knytt stories… It has the same switch screen basic elements of Jet Set Willy. Sure, it has alot more style, but that’s only because the graphics card allows. The game isn’t any more complicated, Item collection perhaps came from Mario (collect a mushroom, now you can jump higher)

And that’s it.. “indie” games of now are usually just rehashes of old games, or ‘mash-up’s’ as my third most annoying fucking internet term might say.

I just discovered this on Destructoid – Games are going to get Cigarette health and lifestyle warnings slapped on their front cover… – this is just too good an opportunity to miss as far as I’m concerned…

Computer games to get cigarette-style health warnings

And so…

Bonus points if you can work out what the last one is…

Seriously though – This is just fucking idiotic. Blaming games for the problems of the world about lack of values and de-sensitivity to violence is exactly the same as blaming witchcraft for knitting. Until some scientist comes out and actually says “We can guarantee with 100% certainty that if you listen to def leopard, play Grand theft auto, and watch movies like SAW – you will probably end up not believing in god and/or other related bumpf”

Games are not like cigarettes, cigarettes WILL harm my baby, smoking cigarettes ISN’T big and clever (which I do still think should be a warning) – and cigarettes DO increase your chances of burning your house down.

Games, on the other hand, these things are only objectionably likely. And therefore baring such a warning is an insult to peoples ability to make up their own fucking mind.

And my word of the month to finish….

COCKENDS!

I have to credit my brother for this point of view as it is borderline inspired genius.

He argues that technologies that survive versus the ones that fail aren’t down the technical differences, the formats and the wherefores. It’s down to the way people say them.

For example, it’s much much easier to say “blue-ray” over saying “H-D-D-V-D” and beyond that you have to explain what “H-D-D-V-D” actually stands for, which is *still* up for debate (I go with versatile nowadays). He reckons that if HDDVD was actually called something like “Shaghound” it’d have performed much better in the market place.

Surely not? I thought.

But then, I started to think back to all the other great technology fights of our time. Betamax vs VHS (Vee-Hate-ch-Ess is so much quicker to say) – Then think about the glorious [hole] that is Playstation. It’s *much* easier to say “Playstation” rather than X-box, and it sounds slightly less geeky.

I actually think that semi-geeks actually prefer to not sound geeky so they selectively choose the wrong word to say to demonstrate that they aren’t an Ãœber geek (An Ãœber geek takes time out to find charmap and put an Ãœ in “Ãœber”) – I’ll bet my bottom pound coin that my mother knows damn well what an Xbox is, but she’ll never admit it, rather picking a the “playstation” name over it every time.

The SNES [arguably] did better in the marketplace over the supreme champion of the Megadrive. Again, it’s easier to say “Sir-Nez” than saying Megadrive, (or god forbid, the Genesis – not an overly preposterous name for a console, that in my opinion defined the start of the console market everything before then was just dick teasing – and all you American people that arguing the NES was the start, why don’t you fuck off and find me a single decent game on the NES that has survived in playability to date. (And I can show you twenty on the Megadrive))

It’s not just recently that this has happened either, think of the word “hoover” – it’s not a vacuum cleaner now is it?

Has anyone else noticed how whenever you hear a “grown up” talk about the Nintendo wii – they always (and I do mean always) say the following…

“Have you heard about that Wii-THING”
“I got one of those Wii-Things for Christmas”
“I’ve been playing on my Wii-thingy”

It’s a thing now, because they’re doing it, if the playstation 3 had a wii-mote (oh sorry, it does, in its six axis – *giggle*) – then it’d be a playstation-thing…

Isn’t the English language bloody odd.

My point

Anyway, I just thought I’d chuck in my two pence with the whole Blu-Ray / HDDVD argument and how people divide into this sectarist fashion whenever I read forums.

Apparently these twelve year olds actually think that the manufacturers of these technologies give a shit about “fans” – So what if you bought a Blu-Ray and actually want HD-DVD to fail in the format war, who cares? You’re still a fucking prick.

Why? I’ll tell you why, but first I must digress.

I have the eyesight of a particularly well endowed Eagle (anyone who says Bald Headed Eagle get’s fuck-you points) – Seriously, I’ve been known to creep up on Owls with my shit, and I can tell you right now that THERE IS NO FUCKING DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HD-DVD AND BLU-RAY

Additionally to this fact,

THERE IS NOT A SIGNIFICANT ENOUGH DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HD-DVD AND BLU-RAY AND ANY OTHER SORT OF DIGITAL MEDIA SUCH AS FUCKING DVD WHICH IS WHAT EVERYONE HAS IN THEIR COCKING HOMES

If you try and tell me you can “see” the higher resolution on a decent DVD vs a HD-DVD I will quite happily laugh and point at the fucking retard who bought what the papers say. You’re more than welcome to come round to my house and I can demonstrate why you are wrong, seriously, I live at 1 fuck you lane, fuck you land, cockend.

P.s. if anyone says “Ahh Chris Bought a HDDVD and he’s bitter” – WRONG, I didn’t, because, funnily enough, I have eyes and can see when I’m being scammed. Cocknut, don’t believe the Playstation 3 hype.

I’m really getting damned frustrated with Lost (as it’s well documented) – they simply aren’t playing by the rules now.

The rules of reality are damned simple.

Situation:-
New person(s) land on island, carrying weapons, talking in riddles and not explaining a damned thing.

Solution:-
You shoot them.

Reasoning:-
By letting them walk around the island freely, barter (when they are in no position to really) – letting them talk to other people, any interaction that spreads fear or resentment, you are increasing your chances of being dead.

By shooting them you eliminate the problem completely. They don’t “add to the mystery” they are dead, they add nothing.
It’s so simple.

Secondary solution:-
Shoot them in a none vital organ or knee cap, or the stomach. Any doctor (which Jack fucking is) will tell you that they’ll survive for at least a couple of minutes and you can then make them talk by kicking the shit out of them. By being a crazy bastard, they’ll really not take the piss later and turn the gun on you… (I’m really getting tired of the mexican stand offs in lost)

Situation:-
You’re holding a gun to their head, and ask them, of all fucking questions “Whats the black smoke?”

Solution:-
Instead, shoot them in the hand, then ask them “Why does no one give me a fucking straight answer around here?, Where the fuck are we? What are you doing here? And most of all, Where am I getting the fucking ammo for this gun?”

If nothing else, this post should be a warning to anyone planning on staying on a deserted island with me, if you start talking cock, I’ll shoot you.

p.s. tanky tanks..

I do wonder sometimes how people actually get into a position to carry off something as inept as this article – the synopsis of which is that all 20-30 year old males are layabouts and all 20-30 females are active, socially adept, go-getters.

Laying the blame neatly at the door of video games, this ‘journalist’ (and i use the term completely sarcastically as she never once cites any source of information or actually backs up a balanced argument with ‘of course this is all complete POV bullshit)

With women, you could argue that adulthood is in fact emergent. Single women in their 20s and early 30s are joining an international New Girl Order, hyper-achieving in both school and an increasingly female-friendly workplace, while packing leisure hours with shopping, traveling and dining with friends. Single young males, or SYMs, by contrast, often seem to hang out in a playground of drinking, hooking up, playing Halo 3 and, in many cases, underachieving. With them, adulthood looks as though it’s receding.

Apparently, women are joining an emergent “New Girl order” of single women. It probably has a cultist acronym like Brazon Individual Teasing (for) Cash and Houses.
Of course, the above statement isn’t at all bias, oh no, it’s not just picking a faction of each species and commenting on them, IT IS A CATEGORIC FACT THAT ALL MALES PLAY HALO 3.

Of course, women could never, I dunno, Travel to get some action? Oh no, they’d never hang out in bars randomly trying to fuck a tramp, oh no, they only ever dine with friends for the sole intention of socialising and never ever to spot cock.
It’s all fucking sex in the city now isn’t it? Alpha female and all that, of course it is…

Super-achievers? Now, I’ve never particularly rated the world of Journalism as ’super-achieving’ so we can rule out the author of this ‘article’ straight away, lets count how many world leaders are female shall we? Two? (not counting recently shot ones) okay, One? – And beyond that completely sexist statement, lets see how many receptionists are male shall we? Two? (and now lets subtract the gay ones)

-5?

Consider: In 1970, 69 percent of 25-year-old and 85 percent of 30-year-old white men were married; in 2000, only 33 percent and 58 percent were, respectively. And the percentage of young guys tying the knot is declining as you read this. Census Bureau data show that the median age of marriage among men rose from 26.8 in 2000 to 27.5 in 2006 – a dramatic demographic shift for such a short time period.

What a shocking misunderstanding of fact this is.. Lets take into account some really basic environmental factors at this juncture shall we.

1) In 1970 – the spice girls did not exist, and therefore all women were self-conscious shells of female kind.
2) In 1970 – Most 25/30 year olds were shagging without the pill. Hence the number of babies knocking around was higher.
3) Nowadays we have much more things to entertain ourselves with,
4) cash/inflation dictate that we HAVE to work nowadays and therefore both sexes are more involved with their career path, social economics and all that jazz.
5) Comparing “it wasn’t like this 40 years ago” isn’t an argument, that is like saying “It wasn’t like this in the stone age”, talk about stating the fucking obvious.

Sounds like someone’s on the blob and has a fucking issue with her halo 3 playing boyfriend who doesn’t give a hoot about her new shoes, her fucking dinner with some bitch she doesn’t actually like, and when she once went to South America when she was 21, purely as a holiday, not to scout for blokes or nothing.

That sound you hear is women not laughing. Oh, some women get a kick out of child-men and their frat/fart jokes. But for many, the child-man is either an irritating mystery or a source of heartbreak. In contemporary female writing and conversation, the words “immature” and “men” seem united in perpetuity.

Here’s some tar, here’s a brush.

I do tend to get quite upset with people who label an entire fucking half of the worlds population as immature because we have different interests. Knowing what a DNS or how the TCPIP protocol is immature is it? – No, it took me training to know what those two things are, it took me 15 fucking years of dedication to understand what a computer does, how it works, how games are made, how everything fits together. Except women have no interest in this, I swear, you can hear the click as their brain switches off if you were once to say this sentence out loud. “You know what, I set up a dyndns.org domain name for my home PC so I can stream MP3’s to my work – happy days” – You may as well speak braille, out loud.

But when we simplyify it for the sake of conversation, it sounds immature.. “Oh i did some stuff that means I can get music at work from home” – it equates to the female mind as “he played around with his computer for a few hours making ga-ga noises”

You know what I consider fucking immature? Looking at pictures in magazines and wishing I looked like that. Getting excited about shoes, I find that fucking immature, commenting on peoples fucking hair because it’s not been laboured over for twelve fucking hours, I find that immature, bitching about people behind their back and then claiming you don’t bitch about people behind their back, that is, you guessed it, fucking immature.

Writing newspaper articles because you had a fit with your boyfriend – that’s fucking immature.

Give young men a choice between serious drama on the one hand, and Victoria’s Secret models, battling cyborgs, exploding toilets and the NFL on the other, and it’s the models, cyborgs, toilets and football by a mile.

Actually, I can’t stand NFL. It’s a nothing sport to me.. Cyborgs are old hat. I accept I do have a perchant for football and maybe even toilets, (and occasionally even models).

But then – doesn’t choice revolve around that exact point? Choice? I know people who couldn’t point at an Xbox360 in a line up. I know some people who actually go to the -shock horror- theater. I know some people who know how to spell soliloquy AND what it means.

It’s about choice. When I come home from a hard day’s underachieving, I want to be entertained, I want something light hearted. A woman would switch on Eastenders (for reasons I’ll never quite get), and I’d opt for something that actually actively engages me, rather than something I observe. I find nothing worse than crying over a dead soap star, but socially interacting with someone shouting “FUCK YOU PWNED N00B” – I find, entertaining.

[Quote not in order]
A signal cultural moment came in April 1997, when Maxim, a popular British “lad magazine,” hit American shores. Maxim plastered covers and features with pouty-lipped, tousled-haired pinups in lacy underwear and, in case that didn’t do the trick, block-lettered promises of sex! lust! naughty! And it worked.

Oh, so it’s all Maxims fault now is it? Not Razzle, not Men Only, Maxim, for showing a bit of T&A – Porn didn’t exist in the 60’s did it? Or maybe you’re blaming it on the lads of Britain for Americas social decline. Maybe that’s it, which means you have the joyous event of the invention of the ladette to come. Enjoy that one America, you’ll enjoy it so so much.
Of course, we need Maxim to tell all males everywhere that women should be objectified, and are only capable for rubbing your bits against – We never figured that out before then, honest. I’d love to see Maxim’s readership figures, but I bet they aren’t 45% of Britain.

Anyway, I’ve gone on long enough. Go and read the article, find her address and assassinate her.

Fly my pretties, fly.

You may have read about this impending Xbox live lawsuit by three dooberry hicks who want to try and scam a cool 5 million dollars out of Microsoft..

They ‘claim’ that they aren’t doing it for the money, they are doing it because they believe it’s fair and right to sue over a lack of a service.

I pose three real problems with this whole situation,

a) Microsoft probably have quite good lawyers. – I’m not talking Jacky Browns mate here, I’m talking, some fucking ninja ape-shit-law-knowing-cloud-laying-mother-fucker lawyer. They probably clone them, they probably have a factory of them. (I believe it’s called Harvard).

So, despite the dollar signs in your eyes, the lawyers of Microsoft (with their infinite source of cash) – will happily drag out the suit until we’re all dead. You’re further away from 5 million dollars by trying to sue Microsoft than you are to pluto. It just isn’t going to happen.

b) because of the law suit, Microsoft people, such as the lovely chap Major Nelson are forbidden to speak about it, or more importantly, the status of Live (which has been a bit crappy over Christmas, big deal, I had turkey to eat – knowing that the service is actually the best thing there is since turkey and it’d be back as soon as all the Christmas dads have given up)

So now, we’re not getting situation updates of the service (which appears to be running fine on my machine currently, barring the wanky NTL broadband that is)

but the bit that really gauls my twat is this:-

Since when is 5 million dollars a reasonable sum of money to ask for a supposed break in subscription service that charges 39.99 a year? Given that the break took approximately two weeks out of that subscription, I think a fair and just amount of money to ask from Microsoft would be about 20 pounds (and that is exceptionally generous)

How exactly, does one accrue 5 million dollars of damages by not having Xbox live access? Did you throw a spacker fit and pull the Xbox off your diamond encrusted table, cracking into your Marble floor, which collapsed your fucking LAKE FUCKING COMO VILLA INTO THE FUCKING LAKE…

Get fucking real you fucking retards, don’t treat us with disrespect and say “this isn’t about the money” – if it wasn’t about the money, you’d quit your fucking whinning and read the fucking small print of your XBox live subscription terms of services and you’ll find these fucking lovely nuggets…

16. WE MAKE NO WARRANTY
We provide the Service “as-is,” “with all faults” and “as available.” The Microsoft Parties give no express warranties, guarantees or conditions. You may have additional consumer rights under your local laws that this contract cannot change. To the extent permitted by law, we exclude the implied warranties of merchantability, fitness for a particular purpose, workmanlike effort and non-infringement.

17. LIABILITY LIMITATION; YOUR EXCLUSIVE REMEDY
You can recover from the Microsoft Parties only direct damages up to an amount equal to your Service fee for one month. You cannot recover any other damages, including consequential, lost profits, special, indirect or incidental damages.
This limitation applies to:
-any matter related to the Service,
-any matter related to content (including code) on third party Internet sites, third party programs or third party conduct,
-any matter related to viruses or other disabling features that affect your access to or use of the Service,
-any matter related to incompatibility between the Service and other services, software and hardware,
-any matter related to delays or failures you may have in initiating, conducting or completing any transmissions or transactions in connection with the Service in an accurate or timely manner, and
-claims for breach of contract, breach of warranty, guarantee or condition, strict liability, negligence, or other tort to the extent permitted by applicable law.
It also applies even if:
-this remedy does not fully compensate you for any losses, or fails of its essential purpose; or
-Microsoft knew or should have known about the possibility of damages.
Some states do not allow the exclusion or limitation of incidental or consequential damages, so the above limitation or exclusion may not apply to you. They also may not apply to you because your province or country may not allow the exclusion or limitation of incidental, consequential or other damages.

I really, seriously, pray that you don’t get a single penny. And, funnily enough, I hope the lawyer tea-bags you shouting “PWNED n00bz Lolz!”

I’m going to let sky off for their little installation hitch – it’s not their fault, they are probably very busy, and they did come out on a Saturday at 8am (on the dot) to install it, and to be fair, they did agree to install it even though I have no working BT line, and they did hook me up for all packages after I bribed the engineer

Now lets move onto BT…

I’ve recently had to switch a premsisisisisis phone line from NTL (Utter utter wank) to BT (slightly less utter wank but still quite quite wank) – and this involves all the usual talking to Indians who insist their name is Barbara and she’s just enjoyed eating a p-wet whilst watchin corri’ (I’m not racist. But…) – and then being put on hold, to talk to four separate (and I fear I do actually mean separate) call centres to get my point across..

And so I report a phone line fault (after the installation date) – which basically means I still have no internet, no phone and no blumin’ dial tone. Nothing…

They send me a *postal* letter saying that they have found a problem and fixed it externally. I raise the handset upstairs and still nothing…

The next day, I arrive home from work and find a post-it-note (I’m not kidding) posted through my door to say “We need access to your phone socket to fix the problem” – I phone BT (which in total takes nearly an hour) and explain that I have a job and they can’t just ‘pop round’ to fix it without notifying me of when. The guy on the phone apologises and stresses that next time, he’d get the engineer to phone me before they called so that they could fix the problem.

This morning, I vaguely hear the sound of high-heels at my front door (it’s an often used alarm) – and then the doorbell. After pouncing out of bed, jumping into some attire, and racing at cat-trip break neck speeds, I reach the front door, only to find a post card.

The post card is similar to the leaflets you used to find in phone booths. With the words “STD’s and STI’s” written all over it and big scary words like AIDS and BALL ROT – I picked it up and thought “oh, it’s some charity, advertising This website (called ‘the site’) which I’m sure is a very noble website indeed

However, I turn the post card over and find the words

“Called to fix phoneline, please phone to arrange an apointment[SIC]”

Now – call me crazy, but I’d prefer a post-it note…

I appreciate that this post probably needs a punchline, but I just can’t think of one.. Suffice to say this joke from a Christmas Cracker…

Why couldn’t the two pigs talk on the phone?

Because there was too much cracklin’

(and ironically, because a fucking engineer decided to write a ’sorry we missed you’ note on the back of a sexually transmitted disease and social welfare post-card advertisement)

I live in a literal world (and not a material world as some 80’s whore might have you believe).

You know how you can sometimes say out loud “Oh, I dunno, I’ll be over in 5 minutes” – It doesn’t mean, at any point that you will actually be over in precisely 5 minutes. When, for example, someone says “I’ll see about it later in the week” it may mean Thursday, or Friday. It could depending on religious faiths even mean fucking Saturday.

Now I need a new installation of Sky after [yet another] house move. Happy days are here again of phoning bitches and bastards up and negotiating with their telephone lines to actually let me speak to a fucking adviser. My question is thusly – Why, if the installation of “press 1 to talk about cocks” and “press 2 to talk about elbows” expert selection system, (meaning you’ll eventually get filtered down to the guy you want to talk to) – Why, why, does this not speed the process up any? Why would it not be quicker for ALL phonecalls to filter through one huge call centre and actually talk through a problem in an instant.

I hate it when I need to discuss my bill and the two options I have provided to me are “provide a reading” or “cancel your account” – No. I want to complain about my fucking bill, Why is there never an option of “Press 9 to escape this bloody logic loop of doom”

-

And so, Sky. After six (and I’m really not shitting you) attempts of talking to someone who could fulfil the following list of requirements.

a) Talk English
b) Understand a word I’m saying
c) Not try and rip me off with some random number they plucked out of thin air.
d) and not randomly put me on hold, and then THEN fucking hang up on me whilst on hold – cunts.

I managed to get to a dude who I pre-warned that I was a ‘little bit peeved’ – (I may have used more harsh language at this stage, but the eye boiling rage that I was feeling prevents me from remembering)

I managed to talk to this dude, and in a lovable cotney wanka’ way, he was actually quite helpful. – Either way, he managed to arrange a new installation of Sky, (as well as a slight upgrade) for today, Afternoon

Lets look at the word “Afternoon” shall we? Hmm.. It clearly says two words, combined to make one glorious whole. After, meaning, not before, post, etc. and Noon meaning 12 o’clock, Noon being the time signified by the sun being at it’s highest for the day. However, Noon becomes dusk at about.. Oh, when the sun goes down (so, in January it’s about 5pm)

Therefore, it would be reasonable to assume that Afternoon could be, from 12pm, to about 4:30pm and any time therein.

I drive home from work before my lunch officially starts (which is approximately 11:53am) – I drive home the Twelve minute drive home and get in at approximately 12:07pm.

I hoped to find a Sky man waiting at the door upon my arrival, and if not I hoped to play Colin McCrae Dirt for a good few hours waiting for the dude to turn up.

I decided to phone the sky imminent order hot line to find out an estimated time of arrival. And promptly find out from the very helpful (if slightly bored sounding) Jenny that an engineer had already visited the premises at ‘approximately’ 12:01pm

Isn’t that taking the word “afternoon” a bit fucking literal?

Cunts. Now I have to wait till Saturday before I can download porn. I am most pissed off.

Jeff Minter: “not seeing a lot of reason to continue even trying to make games” – NeoGAF

Jeff Minter is an unmitigated twat who has never made a single good game in his entire fucking life. He’s made some games that occasionally flash the worst colours in any fucking pallette ever and has basically, always stolen ideas and game concepts off other people.

I list his full back catalog of games.

Gridrunner – Shitty rip off of.. Hmm, let me see. Space fucking Invaders. Shite at best.
Attack of the Mutant Camels – Fucking shite “psychedelic” ripoff game based on Defender by Eugene Jarvis.
Traxx – Shite SHITE SHITE!
Matrix: Grid Runner 2 – going back to his roots of shiteness with another shitfest of shite.
Laser Zone – Oh? what’s that Jeff? Quite a bit like Grid Runner then? Fuck you beardy.
Hover Bovver – Hahahaha yeah.. Fuckin brilliant.. no really, it wasn’t complete utter cock about a mower.
Ancipital – I’ll admit to never having played this game, maybe it’s a fucking Gem, but it’s surrounded by enough shite to convince me it isn’t.
Voidrunner: Oh gee, is that a hell of a lot like Grid runner there again Jeff?
Photon Storm: Shitty Asteroids clone
Llamatron: An honest to god fucking shite dead for dead rip off of a ten year older game, Robotron
Tempest 2000, Tempest X3, All the fucking others: A sequel to someone elses game, David Theurer

And a catalog of other shits

I put it to everyone who reads this (Dan then) – Jeff Minter has never made a decent game in his fucking life, he has also, never actually had an original idea or game concept in his fucking life.

To slam Frogger as “shitty death” (not his quote) with his back catalog of games is kind of like Ghandi commenting on the finer points of Virtua Fighter – I.e. fuck off, you know nothing shitbeard.

I fucking hope he dies. The fat real ale drinking bearded hippy twat.

Warning: Nerd rant.

I like Ben Croshaw, or “Yahtzee” to (presumably) his imaginary friends. He’s a cocky british person living in Australia who (on the whole) has something clever to say about most of the games that come out nowadays. Sure he’s a bit jaded, but on the whole he’s bang on about what he’s saying. So much so that I find myself talking to people around my office and find they share ’suddenly’ the exact same point of view about a game, without actually playing it, but instead watching it’s review in Zero Punctuation.

Sure, I’ve even linked to a few videos myself, the ones he got particularly bang on, or indeed the ones where he was just amusing.

He knows his stuff, you don’t get the ability to rant about games as he does without knowing his stuff. And from me, that’s a pretty big accolade, I’m not saying I know everything, but I really really genuinely do. (Or know a man who does)

Either way, you’d think Ben “Yahtzee” would know a thing or two about actually making games too.

But then you’d be so so wrong.

I present to you, Trilby: The art of theft – An (and I hate this term) ‘old school’ platform / wannabe point and click game that has the player stealthing around a level stealing things.

For a guy who knows so much about video games and has such little patience for the cliches and traps designers fall into whilst making a game, it’s amazing to see that his own work falls into much much worse pits of shite.

And because I know that I’m not as good as him at ripping games to bits I’m not going to go on a zero punctuation thrill ride about exactly why, because that’s not my job. Just as much as it’s not his job to actually make games either. (And I suspect it once was – you don’t get that jaded without seeing the industry from the inside out)

Suffice to say there is an inability to play this game and like it. It’s wank. Go and download it and see.

And yet again, more proof that people who write and comment on games, can’t actually make them. But in this case, my conundrum is this: Why make a game when you’re so successful in lambasting them? surely, you’re just offering your love spuds to the barbecue that is forumworld by making such a statement.. Sure you could say “at least he can make a game” – but I find the evidence quite horribly outdated – for a guy who cries for change, his game offers none. It’s a paradox and therefore, I can no longer endorse people listen to his opinions as he clearly knows nothing about putting them into practice. Money, mouth, all that.

Dan for president (or something similar in an anglopolitical stance)

I could bang on about the dismal performance, the rain, the pitch, the Croatians. But you know what it all boils down to?

Sky Tv.

I would name the all encompassing ‘media’ as being responsible, but because Sky are in control of the premiership, with their fancy overlays and every-twenty second advert breaks, they make money off the premiership. Big money, this inflation then goes into the players back pockets, this makes the players (quite rightfully) concerned about their pay packets more than their country. Getting an injury in an international game (no matter how important) could cost them and their club dear.

I’m a Liverpool fan, but in a line up, I couldn’t spot the same Steven Gerrard as the one who plays wearing a red shirt. His heart simply isn’t in it, you could tell after the game by the question put to him by a sky reporter.

“Is this the most disappointing night of your career?”
“Well, I’ve been knocked out of club competitions before”

But it’s not just Gerrard, every player on that pitch except two (Beckham and Crouch) weren’t fit to wear that strip. Yes, you can lament the injuries and say we were unlucky, but in the final matter of things it boils down to this.

We are not actually as good as the Media would like you to think

I’d rank us as good as Norway – maybe a little worse. Norway don’t go around thinking they are going to win the Euro’s, they don’t sack the manager after ever loss, they plug away thinking that they are mediocre at best and accept their fate. We really need to start playing like this, we really need to stop playing players automatically because of the name on their shirt.

I swear to god, Lampards first kick of the game was probably that penalty.

But enough of that negative talk, at least the manager has been sacked… (I’ll write out his CV here so that everyone knows just how qualified he was to manage England)

CV.
Managed Middlesboro.
Won nothing.

And there we have it, we can all go back to thinking the premiership is the best in the world and sleep soundly at night because we can always blame it on the foreign influence, the manager, the injuries, but what we really need to do is find out, exactly why, we have the tactical naivety of a ten year old and simply, simply, cannot pass the ball.

And then we can appoint a new manager, like (please god) Mourino or maybe (please god no) Martin o’neil and we can basically give them the remit of “qualify for the world cup or be sacked” and we can go through this all again in 2 years.

You know what the fuck really hacks me off at the moment? No, not halloween, I openly encourage small children to knock on my door (I’m just waiting for the Daily Mails “Britain in Self Service Pedo shocker” headline) – not halloween

What fucking annoys me at the moment is that all the Computer Gaming websites of the world decide that EVERY fucking pumpkin that someone makes with a computer game character in it deserves its own seperate post and then proceeds to clutter my fucking RSS feeds with innane bullshit about pumpkins that are fucking pointless.

To prove i’m not a caseless whinning shit* I shall now post said pumpkins in … DUH DUH DURRR…. One fucking post! HURRAH!

Cunts.

Yes I’m talking about fucking Kotaku – (Enables Pingbacks so they know)

*for the first time ever

Has anyone else noticed that the frequency of the word “cunt” appearing my post titles is increasing rapidly over the last couple of months… glad you did, aren’t you observant.. *pat pat*

I’ve decided that English teachers are a bunch of cunts… They fill people (children in particular) with incorrect sayings and rules for them to carry on in later life only to be proven wrong by some other smug cunt who didn’t listen and preferred to learn their English rules from bats… (or something)

Either way, I’ve decided to document each of the English teachers classic falicies in this post for us to laugh and point at. At present I can only think of two, but I’m sure as the day passes, I’ll probably hit three…

First up…

“There are no words without the letters I, O, U, A or E” in them”

WRONG the word “by” does not have these letters in them, commonly known as “vowels”, the word “my” and indeed the word “fly” and similarly bigger “try”… Infact, there are a fucking metric shit load of words that don’t have the classic “vowels” in them. And so English teachers, in their infinite wisdom, preposterously claim that “Y” is kind of like a vowel and they forgot to teach us that in primary school. Cunts.

Second…

the rhyme “I before E except after C”

Now, when I was a kid, my English teacher never taught me the difference between the word “accept” and “except” – when you say that rhyme out loud, it sounds exactly the fucking same. Now think about it this way, logically, “I before E, accept after C”

That means that CIE is a perfectly good way of saying stuff, unless you meant “except”. Accept and Except are the same bloody word when spoken by a dumb wench…

So all my life I’ve been putting I before E’s whenever they are near C’s because some cunt never explained to me that it was actually EXCEPT… Wankstains.

And to cap it all fucking off, it’s bloody well wrong too. And so, here, to prove how fucking wrong English teachers are…

Deity.. Hmmm Where the fuck is the C cunt?
Science… TYPICAL, a fucking subject they’ll see every fucking day on their time table, except they probably can’t fucking read.
Neighbours… That tv show you watch after school. Every single fucking day…

So I’ve revised this little rhyme so that it is more accurate in it’s description. I’ll admit it’s a little less catchy but it’s not as vague either…

I before E except after C, unless the word is a digraph [which don't count], and/or except the syllable sounds like “ay” as in “weigh”, unless the digraph’s syllable previously stated in the first rule sounds like “ee” (or /i:/) pronunciation. Or therein words imported from foreign languages such as “enceinte” or “dreidel”, or unless you enter the world of complicated plurals such as “fallacies” which you should be good at if you’re an English teacher, “frequencies” or any other such plural ending in “cy” according to the English rules, unless you’re american where you probably won’t use this rule at all and insert random “r”’s all over the place and remove the letter “u” in favour of the letter “z”

I think we need to start teaching school kids this rhyme immediately.

beige, cleidoic, codeine, conscience, deify, deity, deign, dreidel, eider, eight, either, feign, feint, feisty, foreign, forfeit, freight, gleization, gneiss, greige, greisen, heifer, heigh-ho, height, heinous, heir, heist, leitmotiv, neigh, neighbor, neither, peignoir, prescient, rein, science, seiche, seidel, seine, seismic, seize, sheik, society, sovereign, surfeit, teiid, veil, vein, weight, weir, weird

are all the other ones I can think of right now…

The most insulting bit of all this is that I’m fucking shite at English and could really really have done with someone telling me that these rules suck a load of cock when I was 13, I’ve written a lot of cunting Cv’s in my time and now I realise why I don’t get the job.

*APART FROM BEING WOEFULLY UNSUITABLE*

I don’t like Americans.. I’ve been teetering on the fence for a while now but I’ve finally come to the conclusion that they are, indeed, muppets of the highest order…

I appreciate that I may be alienating 90% of people who read this website (that’ll be 9 of you then) – but I’ve decided that I’ll never be able to communicate with an American and believe that they are being even 1% genuine.

In a four day trip to LA (which, probably, isn’t the best area to benchmark an entire race) – I heard the term “You’re welcome” approximately twelve billion times, give or take a couple of million.

“Can I get some more sugar?”,*sugar arrives* “thanks”, “you’re welcome”
“Can I get a receipt?” *receipt arrives* “thanks”, “you’re welcome”
“Sorry for stabbing you in the face with a pencil” “you’re welcome”

Fucksake, I’m all for good manners and politeness (no, I cunting well am) – but I just longed for someone to treat me like a twat for more than a second. You’re not actually being nice, that phoney smile on your face isn’t real, I can tell by your eyes, you just want a f’king tip.

And so, with my great big tarring paint brush in the sky I now deem all Americans fucktards.

Hurrah me.

One thing I’ve noticed is how we’re programmed to hate criminal scumbags in reality and yet love them all the same when they are captured in a nice smooth soothing story.

Brian out of big brother. He’s quite clearly a fucking idiot. Albeit a richer-than-me idiot. (To be frank, a dead otter would be financially more secure than myself right now but I dye cress)

This brings me to my point (I’m sure it’s in here somewhere) –

We always support the wrong people…

I watched the Shawshank redemption. Sure, Tim Robins character (Andy) was innocent, well, we assume he is because of the testimony of someone who later gets offed – but as for Morgan Freeman – well he was guilty…

So he was a murderer, convicted and charged, and bingo- all of a sudden we love him and he’s the gentle character of the film, not some pistol toting mother fucker from hades.

And what about Danny the Champion of the world? Basically he was a pikey poaching twat mother fucker. – And yet all through the book we’re lead to believe that the game keepers are actually the bad men. Well fuck that, they aren’t, they are the fucking law trying to catch Danny the Chav from nicking shit on the basis of being “a bit poor”.

Layer cake, main guy, drug dealer, feel sorry for him in the end when he gets shot *SPOILER* – I know I’m meant to write “Spoiler” at the start of the line but frankly, this fucking ending sucks shite and deserves to be spoilt, saving anyone the 2 hours of watching Layer cake (which was actually a decent film till hollywood stuck their shit in right at the end and said “Oh no, we can’t have a drug dealer winning” and killed him by some very unlikely person)

Reservoir Dogs, Dusk till Dawn, Top Gun, they all have guys in the lead role you really wouldn’t support in real life and yet you do in fucking fantasy land.

Where are the films about the guy who invented the internet? Howabout the dude who shot bambi’s mum? He did us all a fucking favour, saving us from potential offspring, I fucking hated bambi. I was probably the only person who cheered and, ironically, wondered if Danny the Champion of the world shot her.

This country fucking sucks. Nah, fuck it, I’ll settle for the world.

Time management rule number #6:

Saying it will be “done when it is done” is not acceptable

Fuck me, if there’s one thing that annoys me about video game people is using the famous (and frankly fucking shit) excuse that we’re aiming for quality and therefore “It’ll be done when we’ve finished it” – fuck yourselves you arrogant twats.

It won’t be “done” when you’re “done with it” because life doesn’t fucking work like that you cunts. Posting screenshots of a project and then sticking the the FAQ:-

Q: “When will X be released?”
A: “When its done…”

You may as well write this in the FAQ as the next fucking question.

Q: “Are you a total twat?”
A: “Yes”

This is especially pertinent if you’re not 3d Realms, and actually, in reality, a 13 year old forum cunt with all the say in the world as a fucking mute spastic sucking a bee.

The point of writing a FAQ is to fucking answer questions that are frequently asked, not to act all superior and taunt people because they have an interest in your project. The next time I read “It’ll be done when it’s done” I swear I’m going to send this e-mail.

Dear Sir/Madam,

You are a cunt.

Yours faithfully,

ScrewYouHippy.com

Feel free to cut and paste that e-mail to anyone who gets on your tits a bit.

Detol.

For my American cousins (who possibly know what this is or not) – it is a bleach product.

On the advert, it proudly states two very obsurd things in an effort for us to buy this particular bleachy product.

The first bold, (and utterly stupid) claim is that your toilet seat has 50% less germs than your cooking work top on it. This is why, nowadays, I chop my vegetables on the bog.

Their next claim is that their bleach kills 99.9% of germs. What I want to know is why not the last 0.1% of germs, Whenever Detol is poured on a surface, is there one particularly cocky germ yelling “Watch this guys! This is my fucking party trick!” as he survives whilst his mates end up getting wiped out.

“Guys, check me out!? Guys? Guys? —– Noooooo!!!”

Maybe that 0.1% of germ is bad aids or something.

And before i get some cocky bastard commenting that they can’t claim 100% because not all germs have been discovered so they claim 99.9% in an effort to convince you that it kills all known germs dead – well, I put it to you, sir or madam, why the fuck not? Oh because of the ISA and false advertising, just in case Detol doesn’t actually kill 100% of germs after claiming it did. Which means claiming 99.9% is probably inaccurate as well as they don’t have the confidence of their convictions to claim 100% because someone once spilt some and then found a germ happily swimming around in pink gunk yelling “Muhahahahaha!” whilst sipping on a pina colada on a life raft – therefore I’m never going to buy Detol again because they are lying when they say 99.9% in a false advertising preventing fashion because they should actually stick up for themselves and claim 100% and be damned if anyone finds any evidence to the contrary.

Is there a scientist around somewhere shaking his fist cursing the final 0.1% “DAMN YOU 0.1% GERM!”

I suggest you shoot this bitch

http://www.norcalblogs.com/iconoclastic/

She is not doing you any favours…

*tick’s “enable pingbacks” – waits for fireworks*

I’m a man of logic and science, yet lately, I’ve been struggling with a few things with regards to the complexities of life in general being a bit sucky.

For example, I believe (strongly) that there is no god, and we exist purely because of a collection of chance happenings that made us one glorious whole (and indeed, some people glorious a-holes) – just a random set of sequenced events of pure chance made us and that’s what we struggle so hard to believe that the 1 in trillion-gazillion-billion odds against us existing still mean we do. Which is fine, given that the universe (or even multiverses) may, just very well be, infinite. Which means that there is a chance all odds are played out given enough time, biogalatic sputum and just plain fucking luck.

So that’s my stance on life, the universe and everything. It all means about shit really.

But what I find struggling with lately is a somewhat bemusing one. Cryptography, the science of working out sets of shit and turning them into other sets of shit. I watched the Movie Zodiac, it touches on a cipher that the murderer made (and because it’s a true story) has never been solved – I.e. the best cryptologists (or whatever their plural is) can’t crack this code? Surely, if we’re to believe the movies, they’d be able to crack them in minutes?

Oh no, it seems that they can’t. An unbreakable cipher that’s survived 50 odd years, with the best minds and computers in the world all hacking away at it and failing…. But then theres the Voynich manuscript. This fucking thing hasn’t been cracked in over 300 years. True, it may be unmitigated garbage, but I find that, surely, in 300 odd years we should have come up with a decent “yes/no” to the whole “is it a hoax thing”.

Which leads me onto the moon landings. I’ve been convinced for years that we’ve gone to the moon, not only because of the reflective laser array’s and all that shit we left up there, not because of all the pretty pictures (and 380kilograms of moon rock we brought back), but because – on the whole, the human race are sometimes quite fucking smart.

WRONG

We’re not fucking smart enough to solve a riddle 300 years old… Or at least, confirm or deny that it’s fucking bullshit.

And then, whilst I’ve been struggling with my scientific beliefs, I have started to observe horoscopes. It worries me, I’m becoming a crank that actually thinks there may be some truth in Horofuckingscopes.

I’ve been going around saying “I’m a cancer, I’m supposed to be moody” – what the fuck is someone feeding me in my coffee? Where the fuck did this Chris come from that actually believed that 1 in 12 people have the right to be cranky just because they were fucking born in July? (/and indeed June)

And whats worse, my Igoogle page now has a fucking horoscope thing on it, and I’ve started to read it, and it’s started to make sense to me…

Your changing moods can make others impatient with you as the Moon returns to your sign today. But the choice is yours, for you can keep your more serious feelings to yourself. This is not being dishonest; it’s simply creating a temporary boundary to help you work on your self-esteem. You are not responsible for sharing every feeling with everyone. Wait until your emotions settle and then disclose whatever seems right.

What the fuck? How the fuck can this paragraph of text actually have any sort of fucking meaning in my life? Just drawing similarities from excerpts I recognise and then disregarding the rest? YOU BET YOUR ASS…. Has all the shit with women that’s happened in the past few months made me turn fucking gay?

Answers on a postcard (pink preferably, with polka dots)

Light my rectum babyspoon, LIGHT IT.

Written by someone far cleverererer than me…

Chivalry is dead

Whether you like it or not, gone are the days of roses, hastily scrawled love poems, and sweet serenades crooned lovingly outside a fair maiden’s window. Today, women may pretend like they want to be courted by a chivalrous gentleman, but in reality the chivalrous man has about as much chance of netting the girl of his dreams as Helen Keller has of winning a darts competition. Women want a good-looking, arrogant asshole to treat them like crap. You may think that’s overly-misogynistic, but it’s a scientifically proven fact* that once a woman finds out you are attracted to her, her level of attraction towards you drops by at least 50%. Chivalry, in all its forms, focuses on the man professing his endless love for the woman whilst doing quasi-romantic deeds – deeds that, today, immediately drive women away. It’s an unfortunate trend, to be sure, but an unavoidable one: the chivalrous romantic can write all the love songs and give all the gifts he wants, but outside circumstances aside (in this case, “outside circumstancesâ€? means “moneyâ€?), the chivalrous man will end up with nothing more than his dick in his hands by the end of the day, while the cocky asshole who lifts weights and/or plays guitar chokes the girl of your dreams to death with his penis.

You can read the rest of the things that are no longer manly right here.

Daily Express: The World’s Greatest Newspaper :: News / Showbiz :: Killer addicted to violent computer games stabbed nurse 70 times

The fucking worlds greatest newspaper? What?! Read that headline above and then I’ll go into a bit of a rant about it, I’ll swear probably quite a bit and then I’ll claim that I’ll never buy the Daily Express and/or people who write it should be ignored.

Go and read this article and then come back to me…

I am now going to present the case for the defence.

Lets look at the catchy headline first up and then find contradictory statements within the article (which already displays a blatant disregard for reality)

…”Addicted to violent computer games”…

Lets get this right, “Addicted” = meaning you are physically dependent on (A bit like I am with Forza 2 at the moment).

Addicted. Yes. Addicted, everyone clear as to what the fuck addicted means? Good. Now lets find evidence of this in the Daily Express’s article of this addiction. Perhaps he owns some Joystick junkies t-shirts, or maybe he once went to a Final Fantasy Cos Play Meet, or perhaps he actually couldn’t distinguish a fantasy world to the world which everyone else lives in. (Which would mean he is categorically quadraspazzed)

I struggle to find any evidence of this addiction, or even the murderers conception of what a video game actually IS apart from the following line.

“He knew the defendant had an interest in guns and knives. He didn’t really have any particular hobbies but he did like computer games,� he said.

So let me get this straight. The entire article is headlined by “Frenzied mad fucker kills random because of video games” – and then the article goes on to say the above, frankly fucking weak, quote, from someone who “knew him once”.

Fuckin shit on me. I’m going to change the headline of this post to

“Chris enters bloody rage at Daily Express headquarters because of his addiction to Polo mints” because I’ve once ate a fucking pack of polo-mints.

Twelve fucking years ago.

To counter the computer game addiction claim – lets examine other things he could have been potentially addicted in the article.
Well, he did say in the dock to the judge (and bonus points for the insanity claim here)

He yelled: “I’m going to shoot you with a machine gun.�

So, from that, we can summarize that he’s addicted to the word “you” because he used it once. Next.

Almost a year before the attack he bid [on Ebay] for a large red-handled hunting knife, Mr Altman said. He also bought trainers, trousers, a T-shirt, gloves and a long dark-haired wig.

Clearly addicted to wigs…

So, I’ve changed the Daily Expresses knee-jerk headline to.

“Bit of a spaz murders random after purchasing wig on Ebay whilst shouting the word ‘You’”

Jerry’s closing statement

I will never, ever, ever concede that video games (no matter how violent) are ever responsible for anyones murder, dismemberment or general harm. The world has always had murderers, Jack the fucking ripper didn’t have a quick go on Windwaker and then go and rape some bitchmasters. Fred West wasn’t addicted to Doctor Robotniks mean bean machine, Harrold Shipman didn’t have a secret passion for Viva Pinata. Although I did hear on the grapevine that Ted Bundy was addicted to Guitar Hero, (which clearly was responsible)

Printing shit like this on the internet makes me want to murder people more than GTA ever did.

Secondary edit: “The worlds greatest fucking news paper”’s website also has fucking pop-ups. What a fucking pre-1986 website joke those cunts are..

What was the first CD single you bought with your own money? (no matter what nefarious methods you got it, be that, mugging your gran, raiding your dads penny jar or simply smiling sweetly at your mother with your killer dimples)

Mine, I’m totally ashamed to say, was the Beverly Hills Cop theme, Alex F. Don’t worry, my purchases after this soon degraded further with the purchase of such greats as “pour some sugar on me” by def leppard and then (and I’m almost ashamed to say this) – something by Michael Jackson.

I know. I know, he palpated my face using teledildonics. I was young, I was foolish.

Either way, I’ve probably used this topic of conversation before. I’ve sat round in a pub somewhere, smoking someone elses cigarette after drinking a little too much on a Sunday night, and the topic of conversation resorts to. “Do you remember that time when you fell off that hotel balcony” or maybe “Hey, remember that time we robbed that bank with a banana” – These conversations run out and you fall back on the classics. “Remember Grange hill” – Who the fuck doesn’t remember grange hill? It was the only thing on Tv. What with it’s poxy four channels of crap.

“Remember the first CD you bought?” – it’s a getting to know you game, it doesn’t matter what they say. I’ve always used the response as to know how much of a pretender the person answering is. If anyone, ever, says something “cool” – “Oh I bought Another brick in the wall by Pink Floyd” or maybe “I bought Bohemian rhapsody by Queen” – they are categorically liars. and you should immediately spill the nearest drink in their face, whilst spitting and protruding your knee towards whatever private parts they have (Which they also probably lie about)

No-one, I repeat, no-one bought a cool first CD single. It was always Rick Astley or Sinitta’s “So macho”. Anyone who owns up to it as a response deserves your never ending respect – you should love and cherish them for good. And then go and buy them a drink, because it’s your round, because they are not bad enough people to skip a round. So fucking die.

My point

I hear Asda are to stop selling CD singles. They put the blame solely at the base of the Download Chart. (The current number 1 is there completely because of download sales alone) – so there’ll be no more going to the shop, buying a CD single and then, years later, owning up to you buying something as fucking gash as Ikon.

And worse still, my uniform method of determining trustworthiness is now going to be out of date. I can’t drunkenly say “What was the first song you downloaded then?” because there is never going to be any chance of proof. There’s never going to be a house party where I’m rummaging through their CD / LP collection and find some horror. Because it’ll be on their hard drive. Hard drives have this wonderful ability for deletion. Just ask Gary Glitter, something on there you don’t want people to find? No problem, delete it. (or take it to PC world and ask them to do it, politely)

That’s why it’s sad to see the CD singles go. I don’t care if they sold a single copy last year. The simple act of going out and buying something from a shop is being slowly eroded away. Eventually, humans (and especially us English) will be little more than users of a terminal.

Orwellian perhaps, but still very possible. (And it’s all Sinittas fault)

So Liverpool lost. Fair enough, I’m not going to even comment about that because I’m magnanimous in defeat. Unlike most other fucking retards, I don’t particularly care if the team I support loses, as long as they tried their hardest.

But what irritates me greatly is the number of fucking idiots that decide to text my mobile phone minutes after our European cup final defeat with messages that pretty much equate to Nelson from the Simpsons saying “HAR HAR”.

Lets get this fucking straight right here, right now. And for at least 3 years these are still the facts.

I do not care how bad anyone is at mathematics. The numbers speak for themselves. We have won more than any other English club. So fuck off with your sarky fucking text messages you jealous wankers.

And as for my particularly cunty Everton supporting friend: You can only dream of what we have achieved. Cunts.

This is a classic ScrewYouhHippy Article posted on April 3rd, 2006 – Yes, it is a quick way of me posting something today with minimal effort.

Call me a boring bastard (Go on, I dare you) – But I truly wish people would stop doing Online April Fools jokes. They are fucking retarded in a way that I can only describe in text. Here.

Ya see – the problem with the internet is that shit sticks for a lot longer than those 12 sweet hours of April Foolery. It’s called Google Cache and it’s full of cunts who decide to waste thirty seconds of their cocking existence to spoof a “joke” website
about a Duke Nukem Forever review that isn’t funny, or perhaps a “real brain mind upgrade USB Dongle” on I.w.o.o.t – fucking Argh.

ARgh argh Argh. Cos now I go to News Now and have to wade through the cock before I get to the chaff. It’s really getting old now. It’s not April 1st any more. That was a Saturday and if we’re being technical, performing an April 1st jape after 12pm (that’s 12:00:01 hyper nerds) makes you a cunt. Plain and simple, if you jape around after 12pm on April 1st, you are an incontrovertible twat.

Therefore, making an April fool on an internet website makes you a big twat as now it’s still there – it’s still cached and you’re a wankneck for clogging up the internet with more unmitigated bollocks.

Edit: Handly someone has made a list of twats who should be eradicated from the planet earth. Yes I am suggesting you go out and physically hurt the authors of these internet websites*

*- Although I do encourage pain to these people, I am merely putting this disclaimer here just incase someone does and I get my ass sued – Please do not hurt the cunts listed above – that would be bad. Instead, hurt a small dog or perhaps random child – but not anyone on the above link as that would finger me in some sort of mafia like court case.

I love it when I get comments put into posts that are about two years old. Specially when they are about how I’m such a bad person for pointing and laughing at people being shot falling over.

Either way, never let it be said that I don’t listen to criticism, I have edited this post I made on the 30th of March 2005 so that it protects the dead/injured people.

Sorry, I wasn’t really commenting on the people involved and therefore it doesn’t really matter one bit, I was commenting at the “shock news” reporting that is a bit bollocks really.

Anyway – I happen to think the article reads a lot better now………….

There is a hint of irony in this post – can you spot it? –
P.s. Don’t read the fucking internet if you’re easily offended you silly twats
P.p.s Don’t post on my website how easily offended you are. Jesus, next I’ll be having fucking Dolphins E-mailing me.

I get spammed, quite a bit, it seems that 90% of the spam originates from a 16 year old girl called Emma Stuart. Who, by all intents and purposes, doesn’t exist.

Well, she might do. I really don’t know – Either way, I got an e-mail saying the following this morning:-


Emma has added you as a friend on Tagged.

Is Emma your friend?

Please respond or Emma may think you said no


Let me state this once and four wall. I am not your cunting friend, and I don’t fucking know you

I’ve pleaded with the hotmail account to remove me from her fucking friends list, I’ve sworn at her (and even used words like damn and hell) via any e-mail sent from the account and still no response. Leading me to believe that she is a figment of someones spam bot. Whats the most annoying however is how my Thunderbird junk filters haven’t figured out Emma Stuart as an originator of spam (as she appears to use every social networking site on the planet)

I’m sorry love, you’ve obviously got me mixed up with one of the other thirteen thousand Chris Jones’s out there. You twat.

So, can everyone do me a favour and send random expletives to this address emma_stuart12@hotmail.com – Tell her I sent you.

• I do not want to listen to the same jingle over and over again for ten minutes while you play a game that isn’t funny, has lost its charm after the first go, and is really just padding for the last ten minutes of your shitty little “show”
• I will never understand how “comedy” Dave got his prefix, he’s as funny as selotaping your eyebrows to a taxi and asking the driver to “not spare the horses”
• Flipping channel, I do not want to win a thousand pounds. I am driving, I cannot phone or text
• I do not want to listen to Sonya, not then, not now, not ever
• I really don’t give a fuck about Steve on the A49
• Radio producers became Radio producers because they don’t have the personality to actually hold a show on their own, therefore why the fuck are they talking in their annoying horsey fucking bitch voice? Get back to producing, or is your job so fucking easy that you can actually do both at the same time
• A joke is funny the first time you say it, possibly, sometimes. It is not funny however, after you have milked it for twenty-six minutes with various unfunny people taking the next logical step
• this discourse is not funny:- To Irish girl “Why don’t you bring your Iron?” – Congratulations, you have spotted that Irish people have an accent, only took you a couple of hundred years to realise?
• In the miracle that you actually play a song that I don’t have an instant distaste for, please don’t ruin it by replacing the lyrics with your own, a bit shit really, lyrics. – Believe it or not, the centre of the universe is not you, and everything else doesn’t revolve around you
• I do not want a deep political debate that I have missed the beginning of because my drive to work is 12 minutes long. I personally don’t think we can solve “the unified theory of everything” by collecting a bunch of radio and tv “personalities” and putting them in a recording studio. I think to attempt this would be folly.
• Radio is, and always will be, the ugly mans domain. If you’re a Radio presenter, you’re probably ugly – please stay off Tv and remember your heritage. Any exceptions to this rule, (I can only really think of Vernon Kay at the moment) – you can happily appear on Tv as long as you bring your eye mis-aligned wife. (I swear, one is definitely higher on her face than the other)

That is all.

* Prizes for guessing which radio stations I’m talking about

* – there are no prizes

Someone (I assume they are human, although I have met dogs that can type) decided to post a little diatribe into my mini comments. I thought I’d reply and have my little say in return. Here’s the unedited “comment”

You\'re a fucking arsehole, you missed the whole basis of the arguement, which was that Shitta ia a fucking stuck up bitch liar. No doubt one of the 77% that thought we should go into Iraq & only now realise what a dumb band wagon jumping tosser you are!!!
Signed:- The bloke who\’ll stripe you up if I find out who you are you ignorant wanker.

My reply:-

What sort of prick writes inflammatory comments on a website that is pretty much about me flaming people I don’t like? That’s like putting ones knackers into a George Foreman grill to keep them warm.

I’ll go above the grammar and general poor understanding of English in the comment (I’d normally result to the tactic of pointing out where commas should be, but this one actually doesn’t need it)

Lets tackle this one bit by bit…

“You’re a fucking arsehole,” – Agreed, point? Oh, it was a statement, then that comma should be a full stop.

“You missed the whole basis of the arguement (argument)” – I really didn’t miss the point of the argument… Why? Because I never actually mentioned the argument in any degree on my website? I mentioned a single retort that Jade said that made me think she was a fat pig nosed waste of human flesh (a viewpoint that I still hold)
The “arguement”[sic] was about something completely unrelated, I was actually commenting on Jades inability to distinguish between something that should remain in her (possibly imaginary) brain and verbally spew out into the air.

“which was that Shitta ia a fucking stuck up bitch liar.” – Where do I state that she isn’t? – As a matter of opinion, I don’t think she is stuck up, I think she’s just above Jades level. (Which, and lets be fair, she is)

“No doubt one of the 77% that thought we should go into Iraq & only now realise what a dumb band wagon jumping tosser you are!!!”
I have to correct this line because obviously the Twelve year old was shaking at this point and forgot his “you are’s” – Here’s what I think it says –

“No doubt, you were one of the 77% who thought we should go into Iraq – and only now do you realise what a dumb bandwagon jumping tosser you are.”
I think we should have gone into Iraq. Personally I think we should have gone in, wiped the shitty little country of the face of the map and then left. Laughing, possibly burning flags. What the fuck does this have to do with Big Brother?

(Oh and I really am a bandwagon jumping tosser)

— Next

Signed:- The bloke who’ll stripe you up if I find out who you are you ignorant wanker.

I’ve said who I am several times. My name is Chris Jones, I am the owner of this website and lord of all I survey. If you would to travel and “stripe” me up then this is a Google map of where I live. Come and get me big boy.

Next time, post your name and let the world know you’re called Albert.

Git.

For those who aren’t watching big brother (how I envy you) – Jade Goodie last night said this:-

“Apparently, I’m the 25th most infl- inflabab- infra- inflat-” (someone else) “influential?” “Yeah, I’m the 25th most influential person in the world”

Whoo, What an accolade that is, twenty-fifth. Not Twenty-fourth, but twenty-fifth.

No Jade, you’re not the 25th most inflammable person on the Earth. You’re the 25th most stupid (Right up next to Stupid McStupid of the clan McStupid) –

Twenty Fifth? how dare she say such an outrageously massive lie on television and not be stoned to death when she is ejected from Big Brother. My definition (and maybe others, depending on how much they are copying me) of fame is the following:-

“You are famous by virtue of how many people know who you are”

Therefore, a semi-celebrity who has never actually done anything of merit or worth (without some slick manager behind them), when compared to an internationally reknowned sports person, scientist, movie star, film director etc etc comes out as “less” famous.

For example, if Jade Goodie went to Alabama in America and walked into a bar, there is a very high chance that 0% of the bars populace would recognise who she was.

However, by the same token, if Steven Spielberg walked into a Karaoke bar in Tokyo, the place would stop.

Jade Goodie is just a little fish in a very very large pond. But sadly, the English mentality of “laughing at not with” has not sank into her fucking imaginary brain.

To counter my entire argument. I could have just said this after line 2.

“Fuck off you fat, ugly pig nosed human collection of rectal fluid.”

Space Invaders Sometimes lifes rich pleasures are remade in flash and put on a website for all to play. This game is/was/and always will be shit, but entertaining for a few seconds nonetheless.

It’d be better without the radial gradient in the background in my not-humble-at-all opinion.

Weird event of the night

I was sat at home when my phone rumbled and I recieved a text message that read
Hi C, Saw you on Wednesday, Was wondering who you were with

I reply back with who I was with, – get this – turns out to be a girl I have never ever spoken to in my entire life, asking about one of the blokes I was stood with on the said Wednesday night. She (Who, I’ll reiterate, I have never spoken to my life) asked me if I could get this barely-a-stranger’s phone number.

What was my response? Well it’s blank currently, but I think I may something along the lines of..

Hi there Random Stranger. Here is a picture of Sooty

You can cut around Sooties Ears for your response to previous text. Thanks

People who have never met me “in real life” won’t get this joke at all, suffice to say, Sooty is a hand puppet, and to make Sooties ears, you need to stick two fingers up – which is not very funny after I’ve explained it like this. Move along….

Utter wank. (Hopefully that will go into Googles search engine)

Background

I’ve been with Tesco Car insurance for 3 years now. The first quote was astronomical, the second was reasonably better and the third, recieved yesterday. Well, it wasn’t enough different from the second for me to get all excited.

I decided that it was too much to pay and so decided to move on – this sounds pretty reasonable doesn’t it really? I got a better quote from Direct Line and so decided to take it.

Paid for. Credit card, job done.

All I had to do then is cancel my existing insurance with Tesco. Herein is the remainder of this post in it’s recorded (god I hope so) conversation.

After twenty minutes on hold (I shit you not, I watched the windows clock move from 9:40 to 10:03) – listening to The Blue Danube Waltz, (which does now and will forever remind me of Elite on the BBC micro) for twenty minutes is enough to make anyone go slightly annoyed.

Mr Cancelation answers the phone. We’ll call him Mr C for the remainder of this post.

Mr C – “Hello, How may I help you today on this fine and lovely day”*

Me – “Hi, I want to cancel my car insurance please”

Mr C – “Is this in reference to the recent renewal Mr Jones?”

Me – “Yes it is quite frankly. It’s hardly moved since last year”

Mr C – “but it’s gone down nearly 120 pounds? It’s down from 680 to 480″

Me – “That’d be 200 pounds, and it hasn’t fallen nearly that because I’m holding my last years documents in my hand right now and it quite clearly says 520, 680 was my original first year sum”

Mr C – “Oh yes, Sorry I was looking at the wrong line”

Me – [Wondering if I could use that defence when I crashed my car and made a claim] “Easily done, anyway, I don’t feel it has gone down enough and have found a better quote elsewhere”

Mr C – “How much have you been quoted Mr Jones?”

Me – [randomly picking a number from the top of my head] “Just over 400 pounds”

Mr C – “oh well let me take your details for the year down” *takes details*
*tapping on keyboard* [probably thinking of a brucey's play your cards right higher/lower number than "Just over 400 pounds"]

Mr C – “well Mr Jones because you’re an online customer [which inciedentally I always have been] – I can offer you a new quote of 414 pounds” (414 is actually about ten quid cheaper than the policy I bought last night)

Me – “So you have just wiped off 70 pounds off my quote because of a phonecall…”

I then did manage to go on and cancel the bloody policy, even if they had offered me three hundred quid, I wouldn’t have taken it because I can’t trust a company that is so blatently ripping off it’s customers. The funny thing is that this is an “Automatic renewal” process and it makes me wonder how many people just automatically take the renewal without actually looking into how much they could save somewhere else.

Lesson learnt – Never EVER accept an automatic renewal from anyone without crying the cancelation game first.

*I can never remember these opening lines

Watches are evil. I’ve come to the conclusion that watches are the worst invention mankind has ever made. Once upon a time, watches and clocks were good thing, the hands would spin round to 3:30 and you’d be happily off home, (probably skipping, possibly bleeding).

Then time happens and you grow old, and suddenly watches become very bad things. They tell you you’re not up yet, they tell you you’re late for work, they tell you you’re late for home, they tell you that the oven’s burnt your chips, they tell you the pub is shut, they tell you that the post office is closed.

They have very little to say that is good once you pass the age of 17. And theres another thing watches do, like a human tachometer, they subtily – day-by-day count down the time you have remaining.

I’m surrounded by people that keep banging on about hitting the age of 30 – what’s the big deal? So what, younger, more hip, fashionable, people hearing the news that you’re now 30 will make approximately no difference whatsoever, according to them “man” – you’re old after 18.

30 is a good thing, it means you’ve orbited the sun 30 times, and in the immortal words of take that – lets go round again. (Fuck I hate that song)

P.s. Girl Rant coming soon!

You know two things that annoy me quite a bit…

1) Pulling into a petrol station and pulling out the petrol handle only for it to splash on my shoe/leg. This is a sure fire sign that a woman has used the pump before you because they (unlike males) don’t shake the bloody nozzle before putting it back in. They much prefer the drip dry method.

2) The internet annoys me quite a bit.

The end

Grrr! Imagine if World Cup Soccer Meant Something
Monday, June 05, 2006
By Mike Straka

Are we too spoiled as a society to recognize the importance of soccer?

I was watching a television promotion for the FIFA World Cup Tournament the other day, and the theme of the spot was that this simple thing — a little round leather ball — can bring so much national pride, so much joy and so much energy to entire nations around the world.

Except ours, that is. Why is that?

Is it because we have so many other choices? Is it because here in America we have well-manicured baseball fields and organized little leagues, fast pitch leagues, men’s and women’s softball leagues, etc., so that young and old alike can learn to play and enjoy the national pastime?

Is it because 100 yards of perfectly grown grass, lined with white paint marking yard lines, boundaries and bookended by bright yellow field goals affords the opportunity to play football as we know it, in our towns, schools, universities and ultimately the NFL?

Is it because arenas with highly buffed hardwood floors and fenced-in blacktop parks boasting regulation height rims and hoops promote the game of basketball so pervasively from inner cities to farm towns?

Could it be the fact that $100-an-hour indoor tennis courts on clay, grass or whatever surface you choose are just a phone reservation away? How about $100-a-month karate lessons, dance lessons, gymnastics, gym memberships and expensive paintball tournaments, skiing, boating, swimming … you get the idea.

Or maybe it’s the “too much TV syndrome.”

Maybe it has something to do with the widespread availability of broadband Internet connections, where practically any information, videos, news, music, pictures, movie reviews — you name it — are available at the click of a mouse, to say nothing about all of those computers in so many places.

All of this freedom is a result of expendable income.

We work hard, but it is our free market economy that affords us the ability to enjoy all of these distractions on a widespread basis, but that’s not necessarily the end all be all, is it?

Alright, this came from FoxNews.com (hardly a decent source).

American’s don’t quite get it. Unlike the “World series” of baseball that contains… Well, not a single representitive from Europe, Africa or anywhere else. The World Cup is actually a global event. – What makes this “article” even more depressing is that the USA are one of those participants.

Winning the world cup is not akin to winning any national sports event. It’s not like winning Nascar (because above and beyond this in a skill level is Formula 1), it’s not the superbowl (Which really isn’t watched by the same numbers of people – I don’t think I’ve ever sat through an entire superbowl without yawning- come to think of it, i’ve never sat through an entire super bowl full stop)

The global scale of the World cup is what it’s all about. It gives the chance to teams from Angola to take on the big boys and (in the case of last night) lose. America doesn’t appreciate the underdog whatsoever, and why should they? They’ve always been the ones who are on top. But not in a football sense – there they are most definitely the underdog.

I don’t think it’s a case of too much choice, I think it’s a case that you guys know you’re never going to win it and then try to belittle the competition as “not important” – funny how you guys consider the olympics important. (ask 99% of Eurpoeans which they’d prefer to win, olympics and the world cup and I know what you’ll get back)

Just accept that you’re not the best at something and join the rest of the world in hoping one day someone ties all the Brazilians shoe laces together. Maybe that’s another point to the arguement. Not only will the USA never win, but perhaps there is an inherent racisim that can’t see a “third world” country be so much more influentual and winning it. The fact that Iran and the USA are on a level playing field where no amount of technical weaponry will upset it.

Maybe thats the real reason – because you’re so scared of failure that you actively seek to avoid real competition – favouring contests that you can’t lose.

One thing I have discovered lately browsing around various websites is the proximity of really good looking girls to my IP address.

Let me demonstrate my point in picture format and then open the topic up for discussion with.. well.. myself.

When browsing around “various” websites, I’ve noticed that there are a lot of personal adverts that the cynic inside of me can’t help but feel are fake.

Take the above image for example. Here you will see three, quite clearly – Americans pretending to come from Wigan, Widnes and Warrington.

How do I know they are not from Wigan, Widnes and Warrington? Lets tackle each individually shall we.

Fancygirl30 (who is suspiciously 27, and therefore one can guess that 30 is actually referring to her IQ) is obviously not from Wigan. Why? Well for starters there are no beaches in Wigan. Sure it could be a holiday photo. Bringing to my more obvious and stern point. All girls in Wigan are fucking ugly fat pie eating slags. (It’s well documented) The girl photo’d quite clearly has a wash board stomach – not exactly a pie eater then eh?

TammyGirl1970 (again, a girl who is bad at maths because she clearly wasn’t born in 1970 as this would make her 35 – not 19) – clearly her skin has seen the sun in the past 19 years, and so we can quite definitely rule out Widnes. The only thing that her skin would have been exposed to in Widnes is radiation and/or oil spills. Clearly she has only two breasts, again the obvious mistake because everyone knows girls from Widnes are malformed. Plus, this girl is lacking scales – clearly proving she is not from Widnes.

SweetestLadyevr – This one is actually possibly from Warrington. Why?? well she’s getting her (none existant) tits out in a night club. Behaviour, that I’m all for if I’m perfectly honest. However, there is one fatal mistake in this photograph – She has white teeth. Everyone knows that British people do not have perfectly white teeth such as this girls and therefore I would presume that this girl is actually from Iowa. The other factor in this girl being not from Warrington is that she looks vaguely happy. Clearly a state that no fucker from Warrington ever hits.

So I decided to create what I think is a more accurate representation of the girls from the areas mentioned. Feel free to disagree with me, I don’t fucking care.

SexyBitch1 will love you a long time. She’ll do pretty much anything for a pie, including murder close family members.

BubblyPieEater loves you, and chips.

MissUnderstud – she’s just misunderstood and in Warrington – She’s considered a fucking catch.

I need to start playing the lottery. 2006 has been such a shitty year… England better win the world cup.

Bunch of fucking bastards. That’s what I say. (And I’m allowing this post to pingback so that they know too)

I just spent the best part of six months learning Inform 6 and now they go and release Inform 7… It’s been 10 cocking years since they last updated Inform and then they go and do it specifically when I fucking learn version 6.

You bunch of utter twats… What’s more Inform 7 looks pretty decent and I’m whinging about vast improvements to a language that had such a steep learning curve it made Everest look like a speed bump.

Ho-hum.. I guess I’ll have to go and download Inform 7 and start learning that now… Bastards.

Edit: It looks genius. I fucking love it. Well done everyone.

If I’m to read the daily news papers we’re meant to hate Free loaders on society. The world hates free loaders – it’s a simple fact from the council estates of England that scum are taking from society and returning very little except for a few sprogs will that do exactly the same in a few years time. Need a house? Fine, fucking pop a sprog and you’re sorted.

My arguement extends a little further – and goes thus.

I say wipe Dolphins out – Fucking little free loaders. If my dad was around he’d probably say something Northern when describing Dolphins much the same way as he described me when I just spectacularly failed my GCSE’s – “Aeey, up lad, U’r t’ quite t’ bright’ t’ ya’r – if ya just applied yourself…” etc etc.

What my point is, Scientits are always banging on about how fucking intelligent Dolphins are, apparently after a few primates (who will one day, no doubt, envoke my wrath) – Dolphins are quite intelligent little creatures…

Of COURSE THEY ARE – they are free boating off us, what the fuck. Think about it, they do fuck all, all day and we look after them.

A Dolphin could in no way make a tank. Therefore they are unable to defend themselves, and so we should simply wipe the fuckers out. They serve no purpose, they give nothing to society (apart from a questionable amount of pleasure by performing a trick that quite frankly, is below them) they don’t add to the field of mathmatics for example. When was the last time you saw a Dolphin in the news rescuing a small baby? Never. The fuckers could, it’s called the sea. Babies are falling into it all the time – but no, it’s always the fucking Air & Sea rescue.

Selfish cunting dolphin twats.

Call me a boring bastard (Go on, I dare you) – But I truly wish people would stop doing Online April Fools jokes. They are fucking retarded in a way that I can only describe in text. Here.

Ya see – the problem with the internet is that shit sticks for a lot longer than those 12 sweet hours of April Foolery. It’s called Google Cache and it’s full of cunts who decide to waste thirty seconds of their cocking existence to spoof a “joke” website about a Duke Nukem Forever review that isn’t funny, or perhaps a “real brain mind upgrade USB Dongle” on I.w.o.o.t – fucking Argh.

ARgh argh Argh. Cos now I go to News Now and have to wade through the cock before I get to the chaff. It’s really getting old now. It’s not April 1st any more. That was a Saturday and if we’re being technical, performing an April 1st jape after 12pm (that’s 12:00:01 hyper nerds) makes you a cunt. Plain and simple, if you jape around after 12pm on April 1st, you are an incontrovertible twat.

Therefore, making an April fool on an internet website makes you a big twat as now it’s still there – it’s still cached and you’re a wankneck for clogging up the internet with more unmitigated bollocks.

Edit: Handly someone has made a list of twats who should be eradicated from the planet earth. Yes I am suggesting you go out and physically hurt the authors of these internet websites*

*- Although I do encourage pain to these people, I am merely putting this disclaimer here just incase someone does and I get my ass sued – Please do not hurt the cunts listed above – that would be bad. Instead, hurt a small dog or perhaps random child – but not anyone on the above link as that would finger me in some sort of mafia like court case.

Since when did the word coffee become a synonym for the word sex? I must have missed that addition of the oxford English dictionary. In fact, sod it, I’m going to go look up the word coffee to find its definition just incase I’ve missed something.

cof•fee (kô’fÄ“, kÅ?f’Ä“) pronunciation
n.
1.
1. Any of various tropical African shrubs or trees of the genus Coffea, especially C. arabica, widely cultivated in the tropics for their seeds that are dried, roasted, and ground to prepare a stimulating aromatic drink.

So that doesn’t mean sex then.

2. The beanlike seeds of this plant, enclosed within a pulpy fruit.

No sex here.

3. The beverage prepared from the seeds of this plant.

Not that much like sex really.

2. A moderate brown to dark brown or dark grayish brown.

That’d be a colour then and not sex.

3. An informal social gathering at which coffee and other refreshments are served.

Ah – now that could be construed as sex, if you’re a coffee drinking swinger with a car-key bowl. But to the majority (And I dearly hope it is the majority) of us, This also does not mean sex.

So there we have it. The words Coffee and Sex should not be confused. They do not mean the same thing. Can someone please tell the girls that I date that when I suggest a cup of coffee I do not mean that I want sex. Believe it or not, I have progressed beyond the abilities of primates in controlling myself.

And (probably slightly harder to believe) I’m not actually the kind of bloke that goes around offering coffee to each and every stranger I meet. It’s quite a rare occurrence, nay, a fucking unlikely event that I would suggest coffee.

Why? – Because I know the ulterior motive behind such a suggestion “Fancy coming in for a coffee?” – “no I’ve got a headache”. I wish I hadn’t just had that conversation but sadly I have. I’d find it funny if I didn’t find it so strange.

Where did the innocence go in the world where a simple gesture of drinking a brown beverage in the same room now means forming a beast with two backs? God only knows what you’re suggesting if you say “Coffee and biscuits� that’s probably some sado-masochistic ritual involving cucumbers and other such implements.. *Ahem*

Moving onto a subject that doesn’t paint me in a darker light than a black hole.

My coffee is cold…

It appears theres a new Tv show on British television at the moment that only exists on televisions viewed by females.

Apparently the show is called “Cowards Way” and is about a woman who travels around on a yacht basically ignoring the world around her. It’s quite the craze nowadays to fucking ignore people.

Yes, I’m being factitious.

For my female readership

Men know you are cowards. We’re not stupid. We know that you would prefer an easier life than potentially hurting someone with the truth. We know that you’d prefer to ignore someone rather than tell them something unpleasent. We know that you are spinless fucking wastes of humanity.

We know all that.

Let me write a list of known situations where the “coventry policy” is acceptable. If you answer yes to any of these questions then I think the guy will actually thank you for not telling him…

• You are, or previously were, a man
• You are, or previously were, dead
• You are, or previously were, fucking ugly

Otherwise, there are no conditions where the ignorance policy is acceptable.

Think a bloke bares a passing resemblence to Joseph Merrick then you should tell him, Plastic Surgery is relatively affordable nowadays and he will eventually thank you for it.

Think a man has a small penis? Fine, tell him, and he’ll laugh at your bucket sized crack.

Think you want to fuck some other bloke and just can’t be bothered to face the consequences of your actions by a male who quite rightly is pissed off to all fuck? Just tell him, at least he can semi-plot to fuck your mother/dad/dog in revenge.

But please, for the sake of so many peoples fucking sanity, will you just grow the fuck up and tell someone what the cunting hell they did wrong before throwing them into the silence bucket of doom.

Oh, and P.s. to all my female readership. I’m single again and accepting offers. Why not e-mail me if you fancy going out with a polite twat who really respects women, specially those with a distinct lack of mobile phone credit on a thirty thousand pounds a year job.

Bonus points if you spotted how much effort I put into that image

It’s a lovely day. Why do humans work in the daytime and socialise at night? – Why can’t we spend all day in the sun (or at the very least daylight) and then work when it gets dark? It makes no sense – It’s like how life is the wrong way round, you need money when you’re young to do all the things you’re able to do – then when you’re old, you don’t work, have loads of money but are physically not as able as you once were…

Smoking has been banned in England (well, in a year and a bit it will be) – landlords complain that most of their customers smoke and that they will stay away. What they don’t consider is the people who currently don’t smoke, and stay away because they have no desire to passively inhale other peoples shite.

Dating is…

Like a driving test – Three major faults and you’re out. It seems – Funnily, I’m less tolerant than the current driving test system and actually prefer to work a simple soccer system. You get two yellow cards, then it turns into a red and you’re out. My only exception is that it has to be something pretty major to get a yellow card.

There’s real money to be made with a dating rule book. I wish someone could write down all the little rules like a check list so that if you forget one, you can just check the list and tick it off there and then. Without reducing this down to a sexist rant about the phase I like to call spice-girls equality, I’ll just say…

“Girls have mobile phones too” – So what if I didn’t fucking text you to make sure you got home okay. It matters very little, if you did, then you did, and if you didn’t, and died horribly in a ditch, a fucking text message ain’t gonna help now is it?

And more over… While we’re on the subject, the fact that I didn’t send such a text message at 4am in the fucking morning when you have work the next day shows i’m a considerate caring sort of twat who doesn’t want to inexplicably piss you off further by stealing you of sleep… Noo, No fucking bonus points for that is there?

And since when do people keep score? A simple plus and minus system is a fucking lame way to approach life. God damn it.

More over, I wouldn’t mind any of this until I got this little comment…

“Wait a minute, you have a mobile too, it rubs both ways, you didn’t text me to make sure I got home okay either…”
“Ahh but your the man”

I have one thing to say to that…

“I really wanna zig a zig ah” – you ix nay’d all rights to use that little line when scary spice insisted we all look at her nipples.

As far as I’m concerned, The spice girls act 1996/1997 should be passed in British law and every girl on earth should be made to sign it. Fine, you want fucking equal rights and the respect you deserve, then you should fucking do your share on the opposite side of the coin.

Lets list my little yellow card offences that I neglected to mention in our first date appraisal because I’m a fucking easy going gentleman who wouldn’t dream of digging up shit for the sake of it?

• You should buy rounds of drinks instead of me buying them all.
• You shouldn’t EVER, EVER refer to your ex boyfriend.
• Try and let me get a word in edge ways. Ya know, just for a change
• Complaining is okay, once. Twice, three times and it really does become a little annoying.
• You should never EVER ask me what happened with my last relationship as you are not going to recieve the truth…
• You should never question the answer to the above statement as if the lie have just told you is blatantly a lie. There is such a thing as pride.
• You should not eye up other blokes in a bar and think you’re getting away with it (I lie, that actually did hit home as a yellow card)

But hey, I failed to mention any of those little issues last night… Why? BECAUSE I’M AN EASY GOING MOTHER FUCKING TWAT FACE THAT’S WHY – HOW MANY FUCKING BONUS POINTS DO I GET FOR THAT EH!

Here ends the open letter to the world.

Alright you mother fuckers, as you probably know by now because I’ve been boring you all to death with it, I’ve split up with my girlfriend. I hear ya, big fucking deal, it happens every day. I agree. Couldn’t agree more.

I’m now going to divulge my theory on life, particularly the female life form.

Disclaimer

While Einstein was looking for a universal theory of everything. He didn’t find it, he didn’t even come close sadly – and the same goes with me. My Squirrel Theory isn’t a universal theory. It merely constitutes a few thousand million girls on the planet. Not every single one.

Squirrel Theory

I imagine many men will read this next few paragraphs and nod knowingly saying something like the crowd at an Eddie Murphy comedy night might say”He’s so right, ah-ah, that man there, he’s so fucking right”

Hold on tight, here we go.

When winter strikes a poor helpless little female squirrel. She busily collects her nuts in time for the coming winter, knowing that she needs to stack provisions for the oncoming colder months. She becomes less picky, knowing full well that the quality of nuts she finds isn’t important. What is important is quantity. They don’t have to be the right nuts, just nuts. The presence of nuts for winter is of primary importance because without them, the poor female squirrel will die all alone.

So in August to November the Squirrel goes around looking for nuts. She searches high and low, convincing people that she’s fussy, but really she’s a lot more susceptable to picking a bad pair of nuts. The closer we get to December, the more likely the girly squirrel will have settled for any pair of nuts that show her attention.

Come the new year – The female Squirrel realises that there are nuts soon to be everywhere. And now she can become picky on the quality of nuts that she currently has. Depending on how well the nuts sustained her for the Winter is a determining factor in how far the squirrel will wait before looking for other nuts to eat.

However, some squirrels decide to go on a nut diet towards Summer, usually because they feel that, come the summer time, this particular female squirrel will want a holiday to the nearby nut factory. Therefore, she doesn’t need to worry about the nuts she currently has in her hole because they won’t be there by the time summer rolls around.

It all comes down to the fact that Female Squirrels don’t actually desire nuts until they are in danger of dying alone in a wintery hole.

There we go chaps. We are simply nuts.

Why is my life turning into an episode of Home and Away? – Having been dumped by my girlfriend for being “too nice”, I decided that wasn’t the real reason and pursued the truth. (I’m quite frankly, not too fucking nice and there must have been some other real reason)

The resultant phone call revealed that I am infact perfect in every single way. What’s more significant however is that my ex-girlfriend (For I think that’s the accurate description right now) wasn’t ready for a relationship, but if she was, then I’d be the person she’d want one with.

Cop out much?

Anyway – We left it at that, if she ever changes her mind we’ll see if we can turn things around and start from scratch. I was okay with that, and she seemed actually fired up by it. All of a sudden I was recieving more attention than I ever had.

Then Saturday happened…

On Saturday I met several girls, talked to well over six or seven. And I wasn’t even trying, they just seemed eager to come to me and start talking, and while not all of them really went anywhere in terms of conversation, it was enough of a demonstration for me to realise that my ex-girlfriend wasn’t the be all and end all of life. That maybe I should be giving her a bit of a harder time about dumping me and then trying to keep me hanging on…

So that’s what I did. I decided that C would get my colder shoulder, which she actually enjoyed. Up until Wednesday night… Then Radio silence again. I figure something has happened as I don’t believe anyone is so busy that they can’t find 10 seconds to text someone to let them know they are okay.

That’s all irrelevant though because last night I phoned a girl we’ll call N – she was one of the ones I had met on Saturday night. (I did feel at the time that she was just being nice to me and not really that bothered, but I asked for her number just because I thought it would be rude not to) – She gave it to me and so last night I decided to ring it.

We spoke for a while about a variety of topics and as these awkward phonecalls go, it was actually an okay one.

And so a good few hours after the phonecall I decided to text N and say how nice it was to talk to her and that hopefully we could do it again sometime….

Ready for the punchline?

I sent that message to C and not to N. So now my ex-girlfriend knows I’m phoning other people. And considering I’m supposed to be “too nice” the warm glowy feeling I have in my stomach is so so evil.

Type of advert you are complaining about: Television Advertisement
Where you saw the advert: Channel 5
When you saw the advertisement: 20:10 PM – 12/12/2005
The advertisers: Activision / Microsoft
The product: Call of Duty 2 (Xbox 360)
Your complaint: I am complaining because this advert is misleading, depicting graphics and visuals that are not representative of the actual game. This is misleading people into believing that the game is as beautiful as the production quality Prerendered visuals. However these are NOT representative of the “Real” Game Footage. The viewpoint used in this advert is trying to convey the impression of being “First person” and this will inherently mislead people into believing that it is the “Real” game.

If we all complain about it, we’ll get it banned from Tv – The end of Pre-Rendered Adverts misleading the games buying public.

(and yes, I really have complained about it)

Now this is a mystery. Even to me, because I’m a flucking demi-god and all that jazz…

It seems that I have an extraordinary amount of incoming links from this website called “gnome-girl.com” which is curious, because by all accounts and purposes this website is dead, (at least it is to me)

However interestingly, the whois apparently isn’t dead.

Registrar: 000DOM
Domain Name: GNOME-GIRL.COM
Created on: 25-FEB-02
Expires on: 25-FEB-06
Last Updated on: 22-JUN-05

What is puzzling me is that I still get incoming links with that website as a referrer, except the website is dead, so how the hell is that possible…

What’s also curious is that this person (said Gnome-girl) is also on Tv (or at least was) and shows up on Google Image search quite frequently whenever I’m looking for Gnome Porn…

Why do I even bother to write this down on my website? Well because it infuriates the tits of me not knowing something, and frankly, I’m getting sick of seeing her face whenever I do any statistical data lookup on my website…

I want a god damn explaination… Plus I’m always keen to see what people who I don’t care about are writing about my website…

I apologise right now to any of my American readers right now, but by god are you lot a bunch of wankers.

The Cute Klux Klan – are a duet of 13 year old girls who sing “White power” nationalist songs.

Read the full article and have a giggle at phrases such as the following…

“Lynx said: “We are proud of being white. We want our people to stay white we don’t want to just be, you know, a big muddle. We just want to preserve our race.”

Which is strangely ironic coming from any American, as they are about as thoroughbred as a dog that looks like a frog. – I mean, “we don’t want to be a big muddle” (sorry I removed the part “You know” because I seriously don’t) – What the fuck?! Unless you’re native american, then you ARE a big fucking muddle you stupid twats – you’re going to have genes from all over the fucking shop, even worse, you could be part Irish. Fucksake.

Next comical line…

“Their songs have titles such as Sacrifice, a tribute to Hitler’s deputy, Rudolf Hess, that praises him as a “man of peace who wouldn’t give up”.”

Haha, A man of peace who just so happened to be a quite cosmic war criminal (not to mention an SS general) – OHhhhh that man of peace… Oh, and he did give up. That’s precisely what he fucking did! – He flew to England and handed himself into the authorities. How much more giving up do you fucking need?

And finally…

“Performing for such groups as the neo-Nazi National Alliance at Holocaust-denial events and festivals entitled Folk the System…”

I critically love the words “Holocaust Denial” – where hundreds of thousands of jews just “magically disappeared” and these strange camps kept popping up all around Germany… That’s a really curious event that obviously didn’t happen… Nope, much more likely someone was trying to frame those innocent Nazi’s…

I’m now going to quote that very nice bloke, and very innocent Nazi, Joseph Goebbels – It’s just so easy to be misconstrewed nowadays… He’s really nice honest…

The English maintain that the German people are resisting the government’s total war measures. They do not want total war, but capitulation! I ask you: Do you want total war? [stormy shouts: "yes!", stormy applause] If necessary, do you want a war [shouts: "we want it!"] more total and radical than anything that we can even imagine today?”

So there we have it. Such a nice bloke…

Oh, and Bonfire night too. Shave right out of town.

I saw an advert for Christmas on Tv yesterday. While I was laying in bed wondering what to do with my tuesday off (besides rolling around in bed playing the stupidly hard Pro Evolution Soccer 5) – I happened to turn over and catch a Christmas Advert.

Walt Disney will never ever see a penny of my money. Not because he’s dead, oh no. But because he’s a wanker who authorises Adverts about christmas to be played in October.

Alright, he doesn’t authorise them because of the aforementioned deadness, but someone called Disney must have done (or maybe Walt. Specificially if he’s a PR wanker, they’re always called Walt)

October. For Forty quid a week, I’m never ever ever going to give Disney any of my money. My (hopefully) future kids won’t know about Mickey Mouse and they’ll think Snow White and the Seven was a tail about seven pedophiles abducting a drug addict.

Fucking wench. That’ll teach you to endorse christmas during October.

I expect Argos will be next. Then the infernal jingle bell ringing, and the holly, and the mistel toe, and the ARRRGHHH – I fucking hate Christmas.

That’s the number of spam e-mails I’ve recieved in two years.

From 25/07/2003 to 03/10/2005 I’ve recieved 3527 e-mails that have been filtered by my various Spam filters.

The largest of these is a massive 6mb. With attached .bmp file

And what’s more amazing is that now the count is 3531 – That’s four more in the time it took to write four lines on a website.

I hate the internet.

When a MAN says “ug”, you should avoid him for the next two days.

When a MAN says “eh?”, he has no fucking idea what you’re on about and wants you to shut up.

When a MAN says “Kiss me” he means “I’m drunk beyond all reasonable comprehension” OR “There is a bloke over there eyeing you up and I want to make him jealous so that I look like a BIG MAN DRIVING A Y REG MONDEO – Yes you know who you are you fucking twatty little gobshite”

When a MAN goes off on one about a Y REG Mondeo driver during a Website post, It’s probably just best to ignore him.

When a MAN stares at you, he’s really just wondering what went wrong in his life. If he’s staring and smiling, he’s admiring your bottom/breasts/ankles/legs/ears/wrist, anything pink really.

When a MAN says “I love you”, he’s being pressured into it.

When a MAN falls asleep in your arms, he’s probably a bit pissed. Or he’s just cum.

When a MAN says “I miss you” he means, “I want sex the next time I see you, and infact, fuck it, just arrive naked”

When a MAN says “She’s pretty” about some woman on Tv, he means “I’d leave you in a blink of an eye for her if she so much as vomited on me”

When a MAN wants to see you every day, he wants sex, sex, and perhaps sex, followed by sex, with a little side salad of sex.

When a MAN says “I’m tired” it means your fat, ugly and frankly, shit in bed.

When a MAN says “I’m late” it’s a whole lot less scary than if a woman says it.

The following is one of those annoying “E-mail this to everyone you know” kind of e-mails. Full of flowery bullshit and oft spattered about sentimentalities about love and friendship.

This is the piece of drivel:-

When a girl… by dicklesswonder aged 12 and half

When a GIRL is quiet, Millions of things are running in her mind.
CJ – Yes that’s because she’s secretly plotting what to spend your money on, or indeed, wondering how she can butcher you in your sleep with a pair of scissors and then claim “the cat did it”

When a GIRL is not arguing,She is thinking deeply.
Or wondering where her next Big Mac is coming from, Shoes, Chocolate, that blokes shoulders that just walked past, why her mirror lies so much about the width of her bottom.

When a GIRL looks at u with eyes full of questions, She is wondering how long you will be around.
Before she can go fuck some other bloke behind your back

When a GIRL answers “i’m fine” after a few seconds, She is not at all fine.
Because women are generally stupid – Indirect speech is for twats, when I was a kid I was able to grasp the simple construct of “You get what you ask for, don’t ask, don’t get” – Simple really…
The other thing we have to consider in this relationship is that, of course, the womens feelings are FAR more important than what the man feels. If a woman is being moody (aside from PMS, general fucking crabiness etc etc) then everything should be dropped in consideration that someone might have broken a nail.
If you have something to say, say it, if not, stay the fuck quiet and let me watch “Lost” whilst feeling your tits. *burp*

When a GIRL stares at you, She is wondering why you are lying.
Because men are completely incapable of telling the truth, ever. Again another fantastic misjudgement. When a girl stares at me, it’s usually with the thought “There’s that man that keeps following me, I hope he doesn’t backrage me in some alleyway”.

When a GIRL lays on your chest, She is wishing for you to be hers forever.
Possessive Itemalistic Clutching Bitch

When a GIRL wants to see you everyday, She wants to be pampered.
Another fucking classic example really. She wants to see YOU every day, but then, in that selfish bitch fashion, she also wants to be pampered by the slave boyfriend.

When a GIRL says I love you, She means it.
Especially when she’s talking to a cake.

When a GIRL says “i miss you”, No one in this world can miss you more than that
Apart from perhaps, the other seventeen women that we males have on the go because we’re frankly lying when we say “you’re the one for me”, what we (of course) actually mean to say is “I’m fucking your mother as well as your workmates, and indeed your dog” – But then we speak indirectly to because we’ve grasped this whole “Don’t say what we think” thing a long time ago. I think it was just about the same point in history as someone burnt his ass on that new firey invention. (Yes it was called fire) – All because we’re completely incapable of telling a truth, ever. FACT.

And before you fucking schmucks harp on about how anti-female this post is…

I’m throwing around such wild generalisations because that’s precisely what the original e-mail did. I do plan on getting laid a few more times in my lifetime, so of course I don’t actually believe any of the things I said above, I’m merely being as sexist as the fucking rest of the world.

You read this website for an insight into the average males mind that isn’t biased by conscience. Or because I post naked mona sax pictures, one of the two.

Typical, I go and “upgrade” WordPress and invite mr Texas Poker to spam my fucking comments again. You can’t see them however, because they are currently waiting in my moderation cue that is about 300 long now… Oh, 301…
I’m not sure exactly why they even use this tactic to be honest. I’m not really into online poker (only because I have the undeniable belief that I would end up losing lots and lots of money to some 14 year old kid who’s using daddys credit card.)

Why do I keep recieving e-mail telling me about some software that can record DVD’s? I have don’t even have a PC, let alone a DVD copying PC. Let alone a DVD player that can read burnt DVD’s, let alone the time to watch said burnt DVD’s made on a PC that doesn’t exist with dodgy coloured DVD’s.

I mean, jesus christ, I knew how to copy DVD’s when I was in highschool (and yes, before you think you’re clever by pointing out that they weren’t invented back in the dark ages – fuck off) – My point was, and probably still is, that any doik with Nero and a DVDR can burn a DVD, I don’t need a fucking special piece of software being e-mailed to me every day.

I don’t need a fucking Christian loan. And my pets certainly aren’t interested in anything called Rx

Even if I did need a certain blue pill that apparently makes Mr Happy happier, Unless you’ve not been paying close attention this website is mainly about my lack of victims in this department…

How to spend my money

Apparently the way to spend my money is by considering me a piss head that does nothing but drink and buy other people said drinks. This will ensure that I will go on any outing with alcohol involved, and therefore said outing can cost a million pounds – approximately. Then, you can pre-book it as though I am going, without me ever actually saying “Yes” (I merely said “I’ll probably be able to make it”) and then all of a sudden the very next week I’m expected to pay for it. With what? Oh yes, that lottery win the other day. Forgot about that…

Lets not consult me and find out that I’ve paid 160 quid on car tax, 680 quid on insurance for said car, and ontop of all that, 120 quid just to keep fucking car in petrol for a month because I’m working so much at the moment my petrol needle doesn’t seem to be stationary for very long at all. (And that includes traffic lights and that nasty moment with the small child. I swear, I thought he was a post box)

Directions

For anyone who still wonders if I’m as evil as when I first started this website (proof) – Here is a true story from last night…

I was walking to the pub to meet my mates (a quiet night in a sleepy village – chances of meeting anyone interesting 0%) – when a car pulled up along side me with four “girls” in it asking me for directions to the local hotel. I’m not really from the area so have to think in a breadcrumb fashion with directions. “Yes, take a right, then another right, under a tunnel, then straight on” – not considering the road about a meter infront of me that takes them to their destination in seconds…

I looked down at the passengers blank face and laughed to myself “You didn’t get a single one of those directions did you?” I say… Her reply…

“No, I was too busy looking at your shiny head” –
Note: I am bald, congratulations, you have eyes. Well done, thanks for pointing this out, It really is news to me

So I did my standard response to this situation… *Feels hair* – “Shit?! Where did that go? It’s like that Gail Porter..”

Then I realised that I was just, essentially, insulted because they are pointing out that my main notable feature is my lack of hair. Not my perfect nose or fantastic eyebrows, nope, always the lack of hair….

And so… Back to the directions..

“Okay, okay – The Hotel, basically, take a left at this next junction, then a right, straight on, onto the M56, then off at the first junction, which takes you the other side of the village, and then left again at the lights”
I reckon by these directions they won’t ever find their way back (I ensured there were plenty of one way roads involved) – What pleases me more is that they took the first direction (down the first one way road) and so would have probably taken the rest…

Morale of the story: “When stopping for directions in life, make sure you don’t piss the person you’re asking off”

Anyway, I’m off to play battlefield 2 and decide if I like it yet or not…

It must really piss off all those scientists to announce my new discovery today. Yes, many years research and for what? For some schmuck on an internet blog to blow the biggest discovery inbetween rants about getting drunk and women.

It’s my great pleasure to announce that I have found incontravertable proof of the first black hole and it’s location.

It seems that we were looking in the wrong place, everyone thinking that they would be in space (presumably because of their lack of colour and all that)

But no, I can confirm that the location of my blackhole is under my cars front passenger seat.

Now obviously because of it’s unexpected reduced size, it’s effects aren’t as noticable as first predicted, with seemingly only tiny fucking items being drawn towards it’s pull.

Yes, Mobile phones, chewing gum packets, any assortment of small change, all drawn magically towards the underside of my front passenger seat.

I’ve also heard the disturbing news that perhaps each car on the planet has such a black hole, meaning that the manufacturers must be in some sort of big conspiracy to cover up such a monumental event.

I’m not a big fan of Forums at the best of time. I think they are breeding grounds for all sorts of scum. One thing that usually slightly erks me is the use of “Signature banners” along the bottom of each post.

I absolutely hate these fucking things. Why take up my bandwidth with stuff that doesn’t mean jack shit. Why do I need to see some Anime character or read some innane poetry?

So I have created some Forum Signature images that I’d like to see. And because I’m such a nice guy, i’ll even host them for you. Thats right you image stealing fucks, you can all share in my all round genius and make yourself look fucking amazingly cool into the bargin too.

Http://www.screwyouhippy.com/images/banner1.gif

Http://www.screwyouhippy.com/images/banner2.gif

Http://www.screwyouhippy.com/images/banner3.gif

Http://www.screwyouhippy.com/images/banner4.gif

Http://www.screwyouhippy.com/images/banner5.gif

Ten points to anyone who actually *does* use these (and I will be checking)

“What is the point of owning a big off roader when it will never see off road?” says the conservationist, anti-big car person who goes around sticking tickets on off road cars saying things like “Poor car choice”, “Your car kills trees”.

First off the bat, and I want to make this absolutely clear. I fucking hate 4×4 jeeps, off road vehicles and people carriers of all type. I will NEVER own a freelander discovery because it is a fucking god damn ugly awful waste of space.

However… Back to the arguement. Chelsea Tractors and the original question “What’s the point of having an off roader that will never see mud?”

HAVE YOU EVER DRIVEN ON AN ENGLISH ROAD?

Lets just put aside the criminal number of pot-holes and half arsed botched repair works on the tarmac. Lets put those all aside, because I want to talk about something else.

Speed bumps.

This is the complete and utter reason to have a big off roader in England, Speed Bumps are quite possibly the most fucking amazingly stupid thing to be invented since the crazy frog.

The Average Speed bump has about 20-50 meters between them, and to be honest I make it my sole purpose in life to make sure I am doing the speed limit by the time I reach the next one. Zero – Speed limit – Zero – Speed limit. On and on my speedo bounces – And you know why? Because it’s my protest against these fucking irritating shitty little inventions.

On my trip to work, I drive over (and I have counted them) 49 speed bumps. 49?! Is that a fucking joke? I wish it was. I estimate that my journey to work in the morning contains approximately 45% of zones containing speed bumps.

So back to the 4×4 arguement. “Why have this car that is never going to see the purpose that it was designed for?” – aside from the “off road” on road conditions in this country.. I’ll move along…

And at this point I present to you ladies and gentlemen..

Porsche, TVR, Ferrari, Lamborgini and to a lesser extent Mercedez.

Lets ask this question again “Why have this car that is never going to see the purpose it was designed for?”

ALL of the above car manufacturers make cars that are made to go fast. Yet, on British roads, going fast is a crime that has a social stigma akin to eating your own mother with a spoon.

Hey guess what? I’m not anti fast car either.

The bottom line is that 99% of the people on earth own a Video Recorder for their Tv. Yet for the most part, not a single user of these video recorder owners actually takes the time to learn what EVERY single button does on the remote control. This, surely, is exactly the same as saying “Whats the point of spending six hundred quid on a VCR that will never be used 100%?”

People are wasteful, they want things that do what they want, and above and beyond, Just in case they one day decide they want to do it – One day, you might just want to audio dub your home video using an S-video in and a composite AV out. Maybe one day you’ll want to use the time lapse split screen multi start recording of East Enders.

Maybe oneday, you’ll want to go to a place where the parking is on a grass field on a wet day. (Sports event, grand national, music festival, etc etc)

The End.

About a year ago I went down to Newquay for a long(ish) weekend with a few of my friends. In a curious turn of events, one of my friends new fiance̩ was down there at the same time (Whyyy, what an interesting coinky) РAnyway, while he spent most of his time with his girlfriend, her friends, and his friends (one being moi) had to make conversation together in the bars of the place.

Let me reiterate the facts for you right now – Two nights. Three girls, Four guys, lots of alcohol drank, and that was about it.

A year ago. A load of relative strangers spent about four or five hours in a bar together. Big Wow.

Last night

For anyone who knows me, they’ll have heard me banging on about this weekend. Complications, politics and frienship counterclaims. I ended up being invited to the party that I was only 50% keen on going to. Because of the actions of my friend I was placed into a situation that I was happy to let lie.

On the way home from Newquay, all that time ago – My friend S decided to announce Via speakerphone that I was interested in a girl and wanted her phone number. So nice of him to consult me on the matter I thought.

Somehow, this event has been turned so that I was the asker?. All of a sudden I’m supposedly “interested” in this girl.

So I went to the party last night (and here comes the punchline) – and having already had a few drinks, I was heading towards that zone of mine. Perfect timing for a house party I thought.

S asked me, “So have you said hello yet?”… And here’s the funny bit.

Of all the people there, I had absolutely No idea who I was supposed to be saying hello to. My memory for names is absolutely fantastic, I rank it quite highly on my skills list. However, My memory for faces is fucking horrible. I can forget what a girl looks like in a week. Let alone a year, in a year I’m more likely to pick my mother out of a usual suspects line up than the actual criminal.

My other friend, J, the night before had given me a prepping talk similar to a boxers advisor. “Just come along, and be cool”

What the fuck? Be cool? Me?

How can I ever be anything but cool? – Have you not seen my watch for christsake?

So I was cool – And to be cool at a house party, you obey a simple set of rules “Never try and address everyone, and never drink too much”

Without trying to be conspicuous I scanned the faces in the room for this girl I’m supposedly interested in. (I thought I’d better save face and say hello) – but guess what..

I never drew a conclusion, I decided that the year gap in my memory was too big and so I gave up. I think I should have played guess who more as a kid.

Now I feel bad because I can’t help thinking now that I’ve blanked someone, which I haven’t at all – it’s just a sad fact about me that over time, memories fade away.

On the upside

I blew the popsicle stand off and decided to head out into Warrington last night, and had quite possibly, the best night I’ve had this year. To describe it in words would do it an injustice – it was just crazy how much happened to me in two hours.

Yay, The 2012 olympics are going to be hosted in London. I’m so overjoyed.

Now we have 7 years of southern ponces banging on about how they need to address the problems in London because it’s going to get the olympics – Fucksake.

The government is going to be so Londoncentric for the next seven years. What with Wembley opening down there (and therefore the national football team being stationed back in a half empty stadium, when they could quite easily be playing at capacity fixtures all year round)

But now we have the olympics to go on about. Ohhh, it’ll mean a huge overhaul of the underground system, yep, better spend a few billion on that. Fuck the railways in the rest of the country, we need to make London better because it has the olympics.

We need to build more houses, but fuck that off – they can wait, because we have the olympics.

Oh, and that yellow alert terrorism threat that everyone lives under, well that’s just gone an orange colour. “Yay! – lets increase our chances of a significant terrorist event by hosting one of the biggest global events ever invented”.

Yes, lets ignore hospitals, schools and public transport. Why? Because people Really love track and field sporting events enough to travel down to the sess pit of the country to stay with the biggest bunch of arrogant and unfriendly cunts in the nation and that’s if you’re lucky enough to actually MEET a Londoner.

Fuck Doctors, fuck firemen, fuck nurses, they can all stay on the same shitty pay for the next seven years because we have to find the 12bn, 12 BILLION that it’s going to cost to pay for this festival of sport…

Of course, the only upside, (and it’s quite a large upside) is that we beat the French. HahAHAHahHaA!

Funny thing about invites is that you have to recieve them before you can accept them.

My life is so crazy right now, it’s like Beyonce on perminant loop. I’m about to borrow my friends house for the week, the conclusion of which means that I would have a base for my weekend excursions that would grant me access to places otherwise unavailable on Saturday night.

Friday isn’t a problem now is it? Everyone is out, everyone is partying and celebrating the first half of my Birthday. Some friends can make friday, some can’t, some can make Saturday, some can’t.

Now, I’ve heard on the grapevine that one of my friends is having a party on Saturday but has since, not invited me because they are concerned that this will ruin my plans, and how they were going to invite me but didn’t because they wanted to keep the number of people who attended to a sensible level. (Hence, I have invited many people to come out with me on a Saturday night) – my point is.

I hate friendship politics at the best of times. However, when I’m in the middle of them, and actually probably the subject, it amuses me to no end.

I’ve been feeling pretty crappy thinking I was going to struggle to find associates for my Birthday plans, and yet, I seem to be running into more and more complications as the time passes by. God only knows what the outcome of tomorrow will be.

Irony would mean that I am not borrowing my friends house, and therefore, can’t possibly do Saturday night, which would then mean I’m screwed, and have screwed everyone elses plans over too… Gee

Whine, Whine, Whine.

“Free trade” yell the naive people watching a concert. When they shout “free trade” the actually mean, “Fair trade” which actually means “allow the African nation to trade freely and fairly with other nations”

Lets just have a little bit of a think about this.

Just about the only things Africa could possibly export is agricultural things, food stuffs and basic materials such as cotton. (Which is currently it’s largest export) South African wine seems to be doing quite well on the old export charts too. But aside from those, the primary things the African people (given a kickstart) could produce is food produce and materials.

Food produce… Such as various meats, grains and dairy products. I bet tomatos would grow well there as well as anything that likes the climate.

Fantastic… All these wonderful tomatos, potato’s and other such produce, being exported from Africa.

Hmmm. Being exported INTO where?

Sure, to be popular at a wine party you’re at in England, you might say “bloody rar, these are african potato’s” as you stir using your ikea cookery set. However, thats the kicker isn’t it.

If African produce becomes popular in England, then who are the English farmers selling their products to? Already shouldered out of the market by the big money factory supermarkets (who shop abroad purely because it sounds better to say “Spanish Waffles” rather than “Waffles made in Blighty” – Nothing at all to do with the reduced purchase price from these other countries)

So wait.. All of a sudden, the British farmers are out of pocket because they can no longer sell their products in a more competitive market. Before you know it, more and more farms become bankrupt and so the housing market moves in on these sweet peices of land to build more and more expensive housing. Suddenly the entire country is a soul-less housing estate. Every farmer can’t sustain a living, and our economy suffers. This suffering economy causes a recession that means no one can afford the new houses being built. Causing the new houses (and existing ones) house prices to fall, house prices fall and banks become more and more concerned when considering loans and mortgages. The loaning market become less stable, causing bigger companies to tighten their belts and put more people out of jobs, which causes a skilled workforce overflow, who can’t find jobs, can’t afford houses, and wouldn’t dream of going to a wine party and bringing a bag of african potato’s. The bigger companies are willing to take less risks, companies are forced to increase their prices to sustain their profit margins, which means the smaller companies fold, unable to provide products and services to the bigger companies at a competitive rate when compared to other overseas companies. The entire country hits the lowest point of it’s economic timeline because everyone “thought it was a good idea at the time”

Yes, all very selfless this “giving aid to other nations” but consider that we might end up paying for it ourselves. Cancelling world debt means that someone is paying for it, and we all know who that is don’t we?

What’s the alternative then? – Not everything is black and white in this world, and there are shades of grey. I am in no way saying that the African people deserve the position they find themselves in, and no we shouldn’t let it continue a second longer if there is anything we can do about it. But guess what folks, it ain’t as fucking simple as chanting “free trade”.

I see that Snoop Dogg is making an appearence in tomorrows Live 8 concerts.,

However, I also see that his track listing is still to be announced… Gee, I wonder what he’s going to sing.

I hope he sings any of the following…

“Can you cantrol yo hoe”
“A Nigga Witta Gun”
“Bitches Ain’t Shit”
“Hoes, Money & Clout”
“My Heat Goes Boom”
“Bitch Please”
“For All My Niggaz and Bitches”
“Ain’t No Fun (If My Homies Can’t Have None)”
“I Miss That Bitch”
“Pimp Slapp’d”
“Never Love A Ho”

I dunno, sing with Justin Timberlake and all of a sudden you’re fucking main stream.

And no, I’m not having a dig at Snoop Dogg, I think he’s a fucking legend, I’m having a go at general naiveness so nyah nyah

I’m growing more and more convinced that my friends are actively ensuring that I remain single by removing all chances that I may possibly have from the equation.

I’m positive of it, we never stick to any plans I make, it’s my fucking birthday supposedly this weekend and yet anything I’ve suggested gets rearranged, now I’m “celebrating” my birthday with a load of couples.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but that kinda sucks doesn’t it? The last thing I want to be reminded of when I’m supposedly celebrating my birthday is my complete and utter failure to find anyone I could call significant (that I could take to said party)

Of course, every girl I saw last weekend won’t see me this coming weekend. No doubt, knowing my luck they’ll all find boyfriends this weekend and it will be souly because I’m not around.

In hollywood, I’m sure that my friends should be arranging a suprise birthday party for me, but guess what, this is reality – they aren’t.

I am so fucked off at the moment.

My site has changed it’s colours, whoopty doo – no one fucking reads it anymore anyway.

“We must find ways to make learning fun…”

I am a simple man, a reasonable man and I come from an era where the writing implements were chalk, where the Teacher would yell at you if you happened to step out line a millimeter. Where kids lived in mortal fear of their home economics teacher (It’s cooking, just call it fucking cooking!) – Where kids were those self repressed little shitbags that generally knew there was a line to cross and therefore, not crossing it.

Because we’re going all “fun” orientated, the world is full of shitty little chav scumbags who go to school and have “fun” – given free Ipods to attend class, and generally, make a fucking joke out of the generation before them.

Learning Fun?! WHY? – It’s not supposed to be funny.

Modern history, “lets learn about Jack the Ripper – because that will be Fun”

“Come on kids!, lets have a laugh at the holocaust”

“Hey, Wasn’t that bubonic plague a fucking riot?”

Why try and fool kids into the mis-placed belief that life is all about fun? – Work life, in the real world is about as fun as being run over by a lorry. And I make fucking video games for a living, for christ sake, what could be supposedly more fun than that?!

The article continues
“The clubs will help girls follow their interests and develop their knowledge showing them ways of enhancing their work through technology in areas that fascinate them most.”

One word…

Shoes

The end

The one thing that’s weird about life is that I would once dream of having the amount of money that I do have in my wallet right about now. One day when I was young, I dreamed of having twenty pounds a week coming into my wallet so I could spend it on action figures and LP’s.

The sad fact of the matter is that I was completely wrong, now I’m staring down at my wallet with the not insignificant amount of money in my wallet and thinking “I am never going to be able to get through the weekend with that”

Eighty Five quid… Eighty Five, How the hell can I spend Eighty Five in a weekend, and be worried that this figure isn’t anywhere near enough. – *sigh*

Also here comes an apology for my rants yesterday, I feel I was wrong.

“Rules of Attraction” isn’t a bad film…

It’s a fucking wank one. – Quite how it was so bad is beyond me. Forget all the art house – copied off other movies – shot effects, (Yes, running time backwards is an original cinematography trick, no really, I haven’t seen it in a million other films before) – Split screen, oh how very bullit.

Dawsons creek, I refer you back to this post of my loathing for that show, so therefore, I’m never going to like this crappy waste of time movie. The lead “star” was Dawson out of Dawsons creek, although this was CoolDawson; Drug dealing Dawson; “I’m insane” Dawson – which lets face it, was never going to work out. Dispite the menacing smile and the stupidly overacted Cool remarks, he’s still Dawson. Sorry, always have been, always will be. To me, no matter how bad-ass-drug-dealing you play, you’ll always be that pseudo intellectual know it all nobody that appeared in that show. Face it mate, your career is over. Worst.Episode.Ever

Don’t try and tell me that socialite Americans have drug problems as they are snorting the very best quality coke off a mirror. Don’t try and tell me that frat parties are THAT cool, please, come on, I’ve actually met an American once, If I was in their party I’d probably be talked to death. (Apologises to any Americans I know, you know I’m just generalising your nation into one neat pocket)

But that isn’t the issue, I’m not really bothered about the false advertising – the crap acting, the stolen ideas and really basic story. The fact that I’m bothered is because I wasted an hour and a half of my life watching this crap. Time I will never get back.

If you haven’t seen this film, I highly recommend against it – Go and rent Trainspotting for the “film it was so obviously influenced by”

The thing is, Rules of Attraction tries to paint drugs in a bad light, what the fuck? – Loads of good looking women getting naked, yes, that’s really painted a bad image in my head.

Want to stop me taking drugs? Simple, make a dead baby crawl along the roof. That shit will make me not sleep for a month, let alone do drugs. If you’re going to shock me, come up with something more original, push the boat out…

Oh, and will the sun please piss off from England… it’s England for christ sake, we’re supposed to have shit weather.

Edit: I went to IMDB and worryingly find this film has 6.7 out of 10. Good god.

This is so wrong it’s comical. – Almost as if the spammers had been reading my website when I recieve an e-mail containing this picture. From a company called “Christian Loans” –

I love the quotes from the bible that supposedly say that it’s okay to borrow money from dubious companies…

Lets look at each of these passages (because, you know, I’m sure that the Bible never had any of this when I was a kid and being preached at)

1 Corinthians 6:19, 20

According to the Christianfamilyloans.com

“You are not your own; you were bought with a price”

Sorry? What? I was actually sold to my mother? How? Why? Maybe the illegal child smuggling scheme really fucked up with me by giving a parent someone who so obviously didn’t share their nose, height, or eye colour.

Lets look at the Real passage shall we? –

19Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own;

20you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.

Ahhhh – that sorta makes a little more sense (like the babblings of an insane person of course, but hey, a little more sense) – Being that we are supposedly made in gods image, and therefore we must not tarnish the image of god by loaning money from gay internet loan sharks.

Onto the next passage…

Matthew 6:30-32

“Indebtedness is also an indication of not trusting in Gods Provision”

Woah woah woah there horsey… What that line essentially says is “being in debt is like saying god is not providing for you” – Hold on, isn’t this a loan company?

Isn’t that like writing in plain English “God doesn’t want you to borrow money, Hi I’m a loan company”

Funny, when I look for the actual reference, I find

30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?
31So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’
32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.

Nothing about loans there then..

And what a shock, the actual quote “Indebtedness is also an indication of not trusting in God’s provision” is complete and utter bollocks. It does not appear in the following versions of the bible:-

New International Version
New American Standard Bible
The Message
Amplified Bible
New Living Translation
King James Version

English Standard Version
Contemporary English Version
New King James Version
21st Century King James Version
American Standard Version
Young’s Literal Translation
Darby Translation
New Life Version
Holman Christian Standard Bible

New International Reader’s Version
Wycliffe Jean’s New Testament
Worldwide English (New Testament)
New International Version – UK

So what you’re basically doing is making shit up to suit your needs

Isn’t this completely and utterly unholy? To lie to get people to part with their money? Isn’t this like a one way ticket to hell?

And here, my friends, is why I am not particularly religious, I’m not knocking anyone who is. Believe what you like, I don’t care – Just don’t try and force me into your beliefs because I have my own which I am quite happy with.

The following are my beliefs:-

• You’re Born, you die. Both events are out of your control, and really, anything inbetween is a bonus.
• Toilet paper shouldn’t be cut into small squares as no-one Ever uses just the one. (Admit it, you grab a whole chunk load of those beauties)
• Money is the ultimate power in the universe, everyone has a price and someone is capable of paying it.
• Human beings are all insignificant scum spots in the universe, what book we follow has no merit, meaning or relevance to anything.
• Most major wars have been started due to the interpretation of a book that someONE person must have written at some point. Not being funny, but that’s like following a SYH post in about 2000 years time.
• Pink is a gay colour, I don’t care if Alfie says only people who are sexually insecure don’t wear it – Alfie is also a made up wanker.
• No one should ever act on my views, just as I never act on anyone elses – No one should follow my word into battle and no one should ever blame me for leaving the cap off the toothpaste.
• The British are the only nation capable of making a film like Trainspotting, American Teen bopper movies such as “The Rules of Attraction” are shocking reinactments of a Britpop classic. This film has no merit, doesn’t shock half as much as it tries, and generally makes me physically angry with it’s complete and utter tossness.

Rant, well and truly fucking over.

Take cover

You know what I really hate at the moment? Besides the complete pointlessness of life in general, the thing that is most irritating me beyond all rational levels is internet advertising.

Internet Adverts DO NOT WORK – Lets make my point clearer than glass on a particularly clear day.

The last time I clicked on an internet banner that linked to something I wanted to buy (and was ready to upon said click) was… Never. I have never ever ever ever used a GoogleAd, I have never ever ever, clicked on a Jamster Ringtone banner because I find the frog amusing, witty and charming.

I have NEVER bought an Ipod because I picked the right cup.
I have NEVER purchased the full version of Quicktime because whenever you go to Apple.com they use words like “upgrade, subscribe and register here”
I have NEVER seen a pop-over window that captures my attention enough for me to actually read it. Infact, these type of windows annoy me so much my eye burst*
I have NEVER ordered Viagra, Callis or any other stupidly named drug via a Spam E-mail from somewhere in Oregon, This would be very stupid of me because it is about as far away from the UK as it could possibly be. Therefore, I am more likely to get said blue (and presumably none blue pills) from any local drug dealer. (that reminds me of how I was a teenager being so disappointed by the misadvertising of a chain of stores called “supadrug”)

The thing is – If I wanted to buy, lets say, a Ferrari. I wouldn’t go to NewsNow and click on a banner that exclaimed “Buy a Ferrari now” – I would go to Ferrari.com (Actually, I wouldn’t, I’d just join the back of the cue with the rest of the smarmy bitches that think having a piece of red metal is better than having any other piece of metal)
I actively avoid clicking on Advert links with any remote sniff of a referral scheme. I’m petty and cheap, and this is why you haven’t, and never will, see an Advert of any sort on ScrewYouHippy.com – I will promise never to sell any T-shirts (and that’s a shame because I have some fucking ACE ideas for T-shirts)

Before any smart fucking alec says “But you’re advertising FireFox and ThunderBird” this is because a) these applications are free and b) you’re a cunt.

Can’t we just forget the idea that you will make a quick buck off the internet already? You won’t. Unless you are an internet porn merchant. (Apparently they grossed 1.7bn in the Uk alone last year.)

*lie

Girls don’t say hello because they think it’s the males job. Similarly, if a girl was to ask a guy out for a drink, I’d consider that some sort of earth shattering event akin to Jesus returning to Earth as a yoyo loving transvestite snowman.

Yes, girls don’t say hello first – why?

Because they are fucking lazy I swear. They wait for me to do it all the fucking time because they just can’t be bothered. How come whenever I’m out with my mates, all of my friends have random girls saying hello to them nearly all night. What’s wrong with my face then? (Aside from the fucking obvious – clever clogs)

I am going to refer all pissed off at me girls to the following website post so that I can re-iterate my loathing of girls who don’t say hello first in an equal opportunities way.

Read this again because it obviously didn’t fucking sink into your thick brain the first time around

Thank you, That was a public service announcement aimed at approximately no one.

(And don’t go getting all uppity about this post neither, because, like the line above quite clearly says, this post is not directed at you, don’t be so fucking conceited and think that it is…)

I realise that I might be putting the whole female gay comunity against me with writing the following… oh well.

What the fuck was going on last night? I ask you. It was like the invasion of the fat Lesbians.

I really don’t get lesbians, I’m sorry, I just don’t. Can someone explain to me why a girl, who doesn’t like men, seem so insistant to look like a man?

Warrington is hosting a football tournament, a womens football tournament. So therefore, there are the laddette lesbians out watching the “footy” and generally acting a whole lot like blokes. (I.e. leering a women in short skirts and sneering at blokes)

I’m now going to reinact a conversation with a complete stranger last night so that I can calibrate my “shit” as i like to call it. Correct me if I’m wrong but these responses are still funny, fat bulldyke or not.

I was stood, minding my own business when this girlbloke just said to me.

“I’m from Wales” – Now, on the originality stakes, this isn’t a bad first line. Admittedly, it does make me stereotype you as a thick sheep shagging twat, but hey, it’s better than saying “I’m from Scotland”

*-Note: I would also like to point out that my surname is Jones, but I consider myself as Welsh as a Sombrero

“I’m from wales”
“Congratulations – You must be very proud” – I said this in a distinctly “I know you’re a lesbian and no doubt hating my penis right about now” kinda way. But not getting the hint like it was painted on the side of a planet, she continued.

“Yes, I have my tongue pierced, my nipple pierced, and my clit pierced” she rabbits.
“I bet you have a fucking nightmare going through airport security” I reply.

Not even a giggle, not even a smile. Fucksake, I don’t care if you particularly like to drink from the furry cup, that’s still a not bad line.
That’s how off form I was… It was so much like everyone had a sense of humour lobotomy last night. (Myself included)

“Yeah, this is my girlfriend”… *points to the girl not moments before we picked out as the most obvious lesbian in the world*

“No kidding? That’s great, I’m going to go stand over there now”…

On the scale of pointlessness, that conversation pretty much ranks up there with the best of them, like, I dunno. Browsing Ebay.

So to all you lesbians out there, if you feel like expressing your sexuality by picking on some bloke who is minding his own business, why not just fuck off and be happy with your handbags and shit instead

Back in 1953, a bloke called Sir Edmund Hillary with his much more interestingly named friend Tenzing Norgay climbed mount Everest. It was an achievement on a multitude of levels, not just the sheer scope of climbing the worlds highest mountain on foot.

You might have heard that on May 14th 2005, a helicopter landed on the mountain for the first time. Read more here

My problem with this…

“But you used a helicopter”

Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that cheating? – It’s kinda like saying you hold the “world record for deepest no-breathing apparatus dive” and then mention that you used a submarine.

A man who walks up the stairs in the Empire state building to the roof deserves credit for being clearly fucking insane and needs a pat on the back to say “Well done, you’re insane”

However, a man who flies to the top of the tower, and gets out of his Helicopter and says “Bloody ra!, I got to the top!” deserves a punch for quite frankly, being a cheating bitch.

Maybe I’m missing the point, and yes, I’m sure that flying a helicopter at that height with windsheer factors and all that shitty low atmospherics wasn’t great, but then, isn’t it just a case of waiting for good weather and thinking “okay, we could do it today?”

Maybe I miss the point.

Its funny how you can be sober, and everyone else is drunk, and you’re the scared one. It’s not often I get physically scared (only every other day or so) – yet being around a crowd of drunk people and being sober is a really scary experience. I wouldn’t mind but I was just crossing the street near a crowded bar. I’m sober, yes, but they don’t know that…

Two fat girls (i’d look for a more politically correct term, but I think calling them “whale like” would be insulting to whales) – with their fat meathead boyfriends, decided to cross the street past me.

“Oh he’s gay” says one of the fat girls.

At this juncture, I would like to point out that being called gay isn’t a particularly effective insult for me because, well, I use that word like a fullstop to be frank. (I remember a time when I even described toast as gay)

My stupid ass mouth should keep shut, but it doesn’t when I’m sober…

“Handsome and well dressed, thanks” I reply, rather too quickly.

“Not you, me” says one of the meathead boyfriends.

“oh in that case, nice ass…” instantly says my mouth.

He stops. I double my pace. I figure, being sober, I can outrun a whippet at this point in time. Thankfully the fat wanker spotted that I could probably outrun him with my eyes closed, on crutches. He turned and walked away.

I breathed a sigh of “Shut the fuck up Chris” relief and got into my car.

Thats when it *really* got strange

I got in my car, and it was like 28 days later, I swear. There was a Zombie walking down the road behind me. I put away my handbook on what to do if a Zombie outbreak occurs down and locked my car doors.

I swear, this guy was so drunk that he was walking at a 45 degree angle. Across a main road, wearing all black. He dragged his limbs like someone who’d been hit by a bus. “Just some typical Northwich knuckle dragger” I thought as I turned my cars headlights on.

Big mistake.

He came over to my driver side window and blurted what I think was…

“Give me a lift home you mother fucker” However, he said it with the enunciation of Ozzy Osbourne at a dentist after he’d been injected in the gums with cement.

Again my smart mouth “Hey guess what buddy, ain’t gonna happen” I said as I reversed.

The quickest three point turn of my life later, and I was gone, out of the carparking lot like a curry the morning after. Wheel spinning and managing somehow to make my CD player completely skip four tracks.

THEN I saw the police car….

Joy.

Fucking Northwich, Fucking drunks, Fucking Zombies, Fucking fat fucking boyfriend hiding behind whale bitches. Fuck everything. (Disagree? Fuck you)

My transatlantic cousins reading this might wonder about my next post on ScrewYouHippy, (they may also wonder how exactly they became my transatlantic cousins considering my mothers brother has never been to America, let alone slept with one)

I want to talk to you about trailer parks.

In America, [mainly due to Eminem and, well, probably reality] Trailer parks are a collection of dooberry hicks who occasionally sleep with their parents and/or fashion mullets. (Even the females – alleged females and A-sexuals). I wonder if Americans are familiar with the term “Chav” but if not, then you should, it is a good way of earmarking everyone who wears questionably “fashionable” clothes and usually have the same IQ as said item of clothing.

I struggle to think of a good example of an American chav… Hmm.. What’s Paris Hiltons friend called again? (Ya know her only one?)

Back to my point.

On my drive to work, I drive past a “trailer park” – This is where you need to extinguish all what you think you know about trailer parks. The houses on this lot cost about 20 grand, in other words, pocket change.

I just saw a Ferrari 355 pulling out of a trailer park. Followed by an Audi TT and a brand new Mazda Rx8. Each one of these cars retails for as much as their house. Yes, you see, in England even the trailer park ‘trash’ have more money than me. Meanwhile, the scumbags, the chavs, the kind Americans would call “trailer trash” all knock around in the £100 grand houses that tax payers like myself pay for. Fucking benefits, I’ve got a benefit for you, it’s called a lethal injection. Twats.

</end rant about my learned helplessness >

I’ve noticed something lately.

I’m using exclaimation marks… Wait, no, I’m really abusing exclaimation marks. Now I’m not a particular.. erm Exclaimation mark hater or anything, infact of all the character symbols, it’s one of my favourites, however, What I do object to is the over use of them!!!

I fucking hate it when people append these to the end of everything they say!!!

Because I read them.. I read that line like someone has shouted it with their eyebrows somewhere so high that they are technically on the back of their head.

So, I’ve noticed I do it and I’m going to consciously try and avoid it. Please spank me if you see any posts on Screw…com…

Infact, just spank me – I don’t mind.

I bought Act of War on PC today because I liked the demo…

However, upon getting it on my Ninja work machine, I find that the game is more unstable than a particularly unstable volcano off the coast of “unstableville”.

And here is my post on the Atari forums for you to read:-

I have an AMD Athlon 64+ yadda yadda

P.P.s I rule

I hope that one day software publishers stop holding the developers to ransom and making them release unfinished products for easter. – I also hope that world peace is achieved next week and famine is irradicated by the introduction of a cheap and affordable food source called ”
methionylglutaminylarginyltyrosylglutamylserylleucylphenylalanylalanylglutaminylleucyllysylglutamylarginyl lysylglutamylglycylalanylphenylalanylvalylprolylphenyllanylvalylthreonylleucylglycylaspartylprolylglycylisol eucylglutamylglutaminylserylleucyllysylisoleucylaspartylthreonylleucylisoleucylglutamylalanylglycylalanylaspartyl alanylleucylglutamylleucylglycylisoleucylprolylphenylalanylserylaspartylprolylleucylalanylaspartylglycylprolyl threonylisoleucylglutaminylasparaginylalanylthreonylleucylarginylalanylphenylalanylalanylalanylglycylvalylthreonyl prolylalanylglutaminylcysteinylphenylalanylglutamylmethionylleucylalanylleucylisoleucylarginylglutaminyllysyl histidylprolylthreonylisoleucylprolylisoleucylglycylleucylleucylmethionyltyrosylalanylasparaginylleucylvalylphenyl alanylasparaginyllysylglycylisoleucylaspartylglutamylphenylalanyltyrosylalanylglutaminylcysteinylglutamyllysylvalyl glycylvalylaspartylserylvalylleucylvalylalanylaspartylvalylprolylvalylglutaminylglutamylserylalanylprolylphenylalanyl arginylglutaminylalanylalanylleucylarginylhistidylasparaginylvalylalanylprolylisoleucylphenylalanylisoleucylcysteinyl prolylprolylaspartylalanylaspartylaspartylaspartylleucylleucylarginylglutaminylisoleucylalanylseryltyrosylglycyl arginylglycyltyrosylthreonyltyrosylleucylleucylserylarginylalanylglycylvalylthreonylglycylalanylglutamylasparaginyl arginylalanylalanylleucylprolylleucylasparaginylhistidylleucylvalylalanyllysylleucyllysylglutamyltyrosylasparaginyl alanylalanylprolylprolylleucylglutaminylglycylphenylalanylglycylisoleucylserylalanylprolylaspartylglutaminylvalyllysyl alanylalanylisoleucylaspartylalanylglycylalanylalanylglycylalanylisoleucylserylglycylserylalanylisoleucylvalyllysylisol eucylisoleucylglutamylglutaminylhistidylasparaginylisoleucylglutamylprolylglutamyllysylmethionylleucylalanylalanylleucyl lysylvalylphenylalanylvalylglutaminylprolylmethionyllysylalanylalanylthreonylarginylserine.”

of course, this is all about as likly as me finally being able to play Act of War

“I know,” Says the Very important board member of Video Game X company. “As we missed that cash cow of Christmas with our game… We should release at that lovely, none-descript holiday we call Easter”

Yes, for some reason, there has been a complete and utter landslide of decent games coming out this month. I bet my bottom penny (because having a dollar would infer that I actually have any money – which I don’t) that come July there will be a decent game drought the likes of EA’s test department have never seen.

Splinter Cell Chaos Theory, Metal Gear Solid 3 (because it’s actually pretty good), GT4 (because it’s going to suck my life from me), Resident Evil 4 (because it really is possibly the best game ever made), Band of Brothers – Erm, I mean “Brothers in arms”, Act of war, GTR FIA Racing, Then, NEXT week, we have Doom 3 Xbox, Battlefield 2, Devil May Cry 3 – god damn.

My point is. The key difference between Christmas and Easter is the presence of money. At Christmas kids get money from their lazy ass uncles to spend on games. At Easter, said lazy ass uncle doesn’t give the kid any money, but instead gives them… Wait for it.. Yes, Easter eggs.

“Hey Mr Games Shop owner, will you swap me a copy of Battlefield 2 for a Cadburys Cream egg, erm, egg?”

I wouldn’t mind but I can’t afford to buy all these decent games.. And I’m an adult (well, sometimes) – where the fuck is a kid who gets £5 a week going to find that sorta cash? (Probably the same place I did when I was a kid, in the street, my fathers money bottle….)

Anyway, that’s my mini bitch over with. Back to GT4

Sometimes, every now and then, a Tv show comes on that makes me so fucking insanely (and quite frankly irrationally) mad that I just have to vent it on my website. Perhaps I *should* investigate registering “thevent.com”

The show I’m talking about is called “Chavs” on Sky one. Of course, I should have realised that I would end up coming away from this show seething.

The main content of this show was to defend chavscum as “harmless” “working class” “salt of the earth” people.

Right…

Harmless – What the fuck are you on? – Every single time I watch a show about violence on the streets of the UK it’s a chav. Every single time. How can you spot a chav? Because they wear black trousers and Rockports. They have earrings and walk like tossers. Every fucking nova breaking the speed limit is a chav scumbag, every time something is stolen or missing, locate your nearest chav and smile.

Show me a Chav helping grannies across the street, show me a Chav that says “please”, “thank you”, and anything but complete shite. Then perhaps I’ll believe it.

Working class – Okay now I object to this one quite massively. See, the real trick is in the title isn’t it. “working class” – Benefit claiming chav scum don’t work, and yet they seem incapable to grasp the concept that people who do work for a living get upset by people who don’t, yet seemingly can afford the luxuries said working people are neglected of. (Housing for an example)

Salt of the Earth – Maybe when I was a kid and I remember a flat capped wearing, friendly old man that spoke through his two missing front teeth about the days when his parsnip patch yelded not twelve, but thirteen foot longs, maybe then, we had “salt of the earth” – never did friendly old fuck ever go about spitting and chewing gum while looking like a complete wanker.

Salt of the Earth has become a phrase to dispise because Chav scum have adopted this and then urinated into it much like they urinate on everything.

You may have noticed how many times I have used the words “Chav Scum” in this article and that is purely because I want to advertise the website www.chavscum.co.uk. This website helps identify chav scum where ever it exists – long may it live and be praised for it’s tireless efforts.

And perhaps it is a mild-hatred website, but then some hatred is good hatred in my book. Hate something, Change something – So say Honda

*Changes channel*

Red Dwarf is still fucking class

It’s come to my attention that I fucking hate Destiny’s child. The observation went thusly.

Read the following lyrics to one of their most famous songs….

Destiny’s Child – Independent Women
Question: Tell me what you think about me
I buy my own diamonds and I buy my own rings
Only ring your cell-y when I’m feelin lonely
When it’s all over please get up and leave
Question: Tell me how you feel about this
Try to control me boy you get dismissed
Pay my own fun, oh and I pay my own bills
Always 50/50 in relationships

The shoes on my feet
I’ve bought it
The clothes I’m wearing
I’ve bought it
The rock I’m rockin’
‘Cause I depend on me
If I wanted the watch you’re wearin’
I’ll buy it
The house I live in
I’ve bought it
The car I’m driving
I’ve bought it
I depend on me
(I depend on me)

Now read their latest “smash hits” lyrics (which, might I add, is utter wank)

Destiny’s Child – Soldier

If his status ain’t hood, I ain’t checkin’ for him
Better be street if he lookin’ at me
I need a soldier
That ain’t scared to stand up for me
Known to carry big things, if you know what I mean

If his status ain’t hood, I ain’t checkin’ for him
Better be street if he lookin’ at me
I need a soldier
That ain’t scared to stand up for me
Gotta know to get dough and he better be street

We like them boys up top from the BK (BK)
Know how to flip that money three ways (three ways)
Always ridin’ big on the freeway (freeway)
With that East Coast slang that us country girls, we like
Low-cut caesars with the deep waves (deep waves)
So quick to snatch up yo’ Beyonce (Beyonce)
Always comin’ down, poppin’ our way (our way)
Tellin’ us that country girls the kind of girls they like

So what they are essentially saying is “I don’t want a bloke” in their first song, and then contrary to that, they go on about “needing a soldier” – I’m confused, which is it then? They don’t want any guy to spend their money on them in the first song, yet in the second they want a guy who knows “how to flip that money three ways” (I am assuming the three ways are, Beyonce, and the other two that are so incontrovertibly bland that I don’t even know their name)

There we have it. Categoric proof, (if proof was needed) that Destiny’s child make shit up as they go along just to sell records. The lyrics in them have absolutely no relevance whatsoever.

I’m off now to go and listen to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. </Irony>

Shrimp are alive and well. Now containing green stuff!

Proof that people who live in Cardiff are fucking thick…

1/8W+(D-d) 3/8xTQ MxNA. Where:

W: Weather
D: Debt
d: Money due in January pay
T: Time since Christmas
Q: Time since failed quit attempt
M: General motivational levels
NA: The need to take action

What a load of bunk. I was happily watching Tv this bright and fine Monday morning when I was greeted with the fat face of Keith Chegwin going on about how today is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year. (”Scientifically proven” by the people in Cardiff University – I’ll come to that) – See? I wasn’t depressed, that was.. until I saw Chegwin. Now I’ve just been registered on the “Possibly very good kamakazi pilot” list. (Plus, why do Kamakazi pilots wear helmets?)

Right, lets examine that “scientific” formula….

1/8Weather + (Debt – Money due in Jan pay) – Eh? So the weather directly effects, (and is effected by) my bank balance? Sorry? So it’s always sunny when I have money in my account. Yes. Of course it is. Lala land. Perhaps the arguement is, “there is a higher chance of sun when you have money in your account because you can afford to “get away from it all” and go on holiday. Which is instantly countered by the arguement that holidays actually cost money so therefore to get W, one must subtract from d and increase D.

Next, 3/8xTQ (or 3/8 (Time since christmas * Time since last quit attempt) depending on how you look at it) – Again another little problem with this. What quit attempt? The last time I tried to quit anything it was “I’m going to try and quit being a sarcastic mother fucker” and that was when I was about five. Anything else I might want to quit (Smoking, Drinking, laughing at falling down old people) I actually don’t. (Primiarly because I don’t smoke, or laugh at old people falling over (much))

Secondly, “Time since Christmas” – now, is this a positive or a negative? Or are we talking on a purely financial basis here? What if one person doesn’t actually like Christmas (i.e. me) and is fucking glad to see the back of the head-hitting-low-slung-shop decorations. What about none Christians? Maybe they are always fucking happy too… So basically there is another part of the formula that is complete and utter shite. Next.

MxNa. (M * NA – I presume.. or was it M(NA) never mind) – General Motivational Levels * Need to take action. Okay, because I live in RPG land, I can say that I have a -10 motivational wizards hat. What the fuck? How can someone quantify “General Motivational levels?” – my motivational levels change per second. (usually in the presence of coffee) And the need to take action.

“My motivation for not crashing today is because I don’t want to die…. However, my need to take action is quite large as I have a lorry charging at me at full pelt” result. I die because I couldn’t do the maths involved.

So – this “formula” that makes national headlines is actually a load of crap. Now there’s a shock. Couldn’t see that one coming. So I have decided to make my own “depressing day” formula which is so much easier to follow.

KC(Funds(DOTW / O)

Where KC means the presence of Keith Chegwin
DOTW means day of the week, beginning with Monday as 7 and counting down, 6 Tuesday, 5 Wednesday…
F: Funds
O: occupation requiring you to be present on Monday

See students at Cardiff University? I can slack off and then come up with some complete and utter bullshit in my lunch hour too.

If there’s one thing that annoys me in the world, it’s fucking ring tones. I’m guilty of having an annoyingly loud phone, but I’m also fully aware of this and make it vibrate only… I can’t stand fucking ring tones.

Bringing me right onto the point of high-pissed-off-ness at the moment. The Crazy Frog. Lets get this fucking straight RIGHT NOW. This isn’t funny, was never funny (even when it was merely a flash website of a static picture of a car with the sound effect), and anyone who thinks it is funny should be repeatedly beaten until they are without any doubt that it isn’t fucking funny

If I see another “Jamster” fucking satelite advert showing this “crazy frog” ring tone. I swear I’m going to swear a bit more.

Fucking Jamster. Which board meeting thought that one up? “Hey that napster is quite popular isn’t it? What should we call it… Hmm, Snoozester? wait.. No.. How about we randomly pick a word and append the word “Ster” onto the end of it. Twatster! Yay!, Cockster!, no, wait, how about JAMSTER”

Genius… Fucking wankers. They probably get paid more than me by convincing morons that this thing is funny.

Yes. This is all purely about jealousy.

Alternatively, I like the simplicity of the following website Washme.com

I hate the movie Memphis Bell. Purely because it categorically proves that I’m a nerd. I watch the fight scenes and say “Why are they flying in Spitfire mark 3.d’s? Clipped wing wasn’t around at that point in history, five propped spittys? Fuck off.”, let alone the Mustangs that keep popping up. They didn’t have the range or the manoverability to take out a brick barn let alone a fucking Me109 over Bremen.

I saw a film once, I can’t remember which, but in it the main character was “made psychotic” by the use of destressing images being thrashed against his un-blinking eyes. Its a common theme in some films to show riots and police chases and all sorts of things that could potentially make a person crazy as a fucking box of frogs.

However, this is Monday morning. I switch to BBC 1… The news, it’s the tsunami (again) – oh gee, some new footage showing complete distruction and quite frankly scenes my life was much happier not seeing… I switch to BBC 2 to escape the quite distressing scenes of cars being flipped over and drowning the occupants. BBC 2 – Elvis.. Dancing a little like a mainiac. I feel my arguement hasn’t taken a significant downturn.

ITV – Tori Amos. Nuff said.

Channel 4 – “Celebrity” big brother, another show that is quite capable of robbing the last strand of sanity the watcher may have had at this point. If it’s not the annoying “airplane noise silences” its the fucking annoying “celebrities” bitching about.. Well. Everything. This really is psycho Tv.

Channel 5 – Oh joy, the killer, it’s worlds scariest police chases. I live in middle England, quite happily pissing my life away with my distorted blinkered vision of life. However, I do not live in downtown compton, LA. I don’t see people robbing liquior stores armed only with a screw driver, I don’t see Cherokee jeeps ramming into taxi’s and sending their occupants flying through the air at sixty miles per hour. You know why I don’t see these things? Because I happen to live in a place where this shit doesn’t happen.

If I wanted to see such fucking horrible scenes I’d become an LAPD cop or perhaps watch Celebrity big brother.

My point is. People wonder whats wrong with the world when they read about something bad in the press. “Oh it’s the games, it’s games….”, I beg to differ, it’s the constant barrage of distressing and psycho inducing bullshit that Tv editors push on the public. I’m just glad that I’m sane enough to be able to disassociate what I see with what I want to do. Chavs, much like region free DVD players, don’t have such programming and therefore there will always be people out there who think it’s acceptable to stove someones head in with a lump hammer.

I’m off to spot the actual Celebrity on Celebrity Big Brother. Wish me luck.

It snowed last night. Significantly. Yes, we had a white Christmas, and yes, an even whiter Boxing day.

That was about the highest of the highlights this Christmas, otherwise it will eternally go down in history as the most boring experience of my life.

Christmas Television is so mind numbingly bad this year, I’ve never seen anything worse. No decent films, not even any decent old films.

“The Man who Sued God” is currently on my Television. The Man who fucking sued god. It got 6.5 on IMBD. It stars Billy Fucking Connolly (Who is possibly the most annoying person alive after Jim Davidson) – “So I’m fucking Scottttisshhh, I’m gonnna getttt ovverrrr eeett onneee dayyy”

Let me channel flick. BBC 1- New Sherlock Holmes story which is so insomia inducing, I feel tired, already. BBC 2 – Why it’s Christmas at the Kumars. Also known as “Not funny in any way” and in some places it’s known by it’s latin name “Utter wank”

ITV1 – Some Period drama, about that ever so Christmasy topic.. Murder.

Four – “100 Greatest Tv Treats of 2004″ – almost ironic in it’s timing. I somehow doubt that number 1 is going to be “100 Greatest Tv Treats of 2004″ or indeed “The man who sued god”

So off with the Tv. Close the curtains, I’ll curl up and pretend I live a much more interesting life.

One thing that winds me up beyond all reasonable belief is the usage of the term “Happy Christmas”.

It’s not bloody difficult to remember. It’s MERRY Christmas, and a HAPPY new year.

Fucksake. With the above phrase you are wishing someone a happy entire year… If you were to say “Merry New year” that means you’re talking to a piss head.

Happy Christmas. Arrrghhh..

God that fucking bugs me.

So, you bunch of bastards, Have a very Merry Christmas, and a Happy new year.

I think that lesbian midgets should be banned. Yes, anyone with a suspiciously lesbian aura around them, who is under 5″5 should be banned from… Life hopefully, otherwise just planes.

Having just got off a cattle-plane, I can quite happily say I’ve just had the most uncomfortable 10 hours of my entire life.

I got onto the plane after pleading with the mexican check in desk for a seat with extra leg room. I reckon I’m about 6″4 (or maybe 6″5 in my heels) and my friend travelling with me is probably more like 6″7.

Whereas I fall into the “lanky streak of piss” category (that’s Category LP for you Category fans out there) – my friend falls into the “Big Bastard who used to play rugby and has shoulders as wide as a german shotputter” (Category BB)

We pleaded, We begged. But No!, there were no legroom seats as, of course, they had been pre-booked by the lesbian midgets. Only it gets sooo much better.

So I sit down in what will eventually become my own living personal hell of a seat, and notice that there is a suspiciously lesbian looking woman. When I say lesbian, I generally mean bad-tempered, spikey haired, combat wearing man hater. I’m not talking the porno-lipstick kind. I’m talking about the lesbians that look like they couldn’t get a man if they actually wanted one, but hey… They shuuure as hell wanna impersonate one…

Anyway – This Lesbian, was sat with her slightly more feminine girlfriend (Although I have the feeling that the roles were interchangable) in a window seat. I notice that she’s talking to her “friend” in an overly loud tone saying “this is just so wrong, Man!, it’s the same plane.. Blah blah blah” (as an aside, it was not the same plane which is what caused the problem)

The stewardess comes over, apologises while I evesdrop.

Rather Lovely Stewardess: “Yeah, it turns out that the check in desk has double booked the seats and basically the people that have paid today have gotten to them first and are now refusing to move”
Lesbian Midget Bitch: “This is just *so* wrong, *whine bitch moan*.. I’m never flying wtih you again, Blah blah blah”
Rather Lovely Stewardess: <cutting a long conversation short> “Fuck off, this isn’t my fault, and even if it was, I’m not going to help you now because you’re giving me attitude you dyke bitch” <or words to that effect&gt

The plane takes off, I avoid death, I’m pleased.

I’m pleased that is…. Until I look at the lesbians knees.

She has.. (And I’m not exagerating here) at least 8 inches of space from the back of the chair infront to her knee cap. Whereas, I… In exactly the same seat row, have -4 inches (I.e. My knees are actually sort of straddling the chair infront)

So wait… The woman who can’t be an inch over king size mars bar height is complaining because she doesn’t have the legroom? WHAT!? So – I decided to say something to my friend…

“I fuckin hate being 6″4 with these fucking inconsderate fucks stealing all the leg room seats because they want to be able to sit there with their smug short arsed smiles” – I felt like it was succinct, to the point and most of all, very accurate.

I swear, at one point, my legs hurt that much that I was considering going over to the exit row and beating the living crap out of anyone 6 foot or below.

They should bring in a rule that clearly states “If you are not 6″ foot or above, Leg room seats will cost you approximately £30 per inch below” – That’d stop the bastards.

And before you say I’m being heightest.. No I’m fucking not. You wouldn’t put a blind man near the emergency door now would you? Why put a fucking short arse in the tall peoples seats.

Oh, and another thing… Thost safety instructions they show you at the beginning of a flight are an absolute crock of shit.

Consider this: “Follow the lights on the floor to find your nearest exit” – Yes, When there are 300+ people all trying to get off a plane at once… In smoke, probably in flames.

It’s practically impossible to get off a plane in under 20 minutes when it’s being organised by the stewards.. Imagine what it’d be like when it’s being organised by satan himself?…

Halo 2 is shit on Xbox Live… Official.

Come back later and I may have gotten over my seething enough to explain why.

At the risk of turning ScrewYouHippy.com into a ranting bitch website (oh wait.. that already happened) – I would like to say that this next rant gets on my fucking goat a lot more than many other things also mentioned on the website herein.

Imagine the scene, if you will, (I don’t care if you don’t – although it will make telling this story a little harder you awkward bastard) – Imagine, you have just driven home at night for an hour. A learner, a police van and endless diversions have not taken their toll too significantly, and you decide “I know, I’ll go get a McDonalds because it’s quicker than cooking something”

The words “Fast food” spring to mind. Food that is fast, be gotten quickly, fast, swift, food fast, fast food.

It’s long been known that people that drive renault espaces are cunts. It’s a scientificially proven fact that if you drive a Renault Espace you are a cunt. (if you have one of those baby on board signs, that makes you a double cunt)

I wheel my ol’ bin around to the side of McDonalds the bit that says “Drive thru” in it’s annoyingly “kerazy” spelling. I park my car with a Renault Espace infront of me being served.

I wait, I engage my handbrake, and then realise that I haven’t engaged my brain. This is a Renault Espace…

Time passes…

I look out of the window at the service window where the young girl who is obviously new is fighting at the till. I let a little sigh out, turn up Zane Lowe on the radio (Who fucking needs John Peel anyway?) and wonder if I’m ever going to get served..

Then I realise the problem… The Espace wagon infront is filled with sprogs. A whole football team of them it seems (with fucking Subs, a manager, and maybe even some binty footballers wives) – This on the whole is fine. However…

McDonalds are always giving away toys with their happy meals – and whats more, some SAD FUCKS actually collect them and therefore it matters which toy they get. The 11 kids in the fucking back of the car (I swear some were folded into the glove compartment) all ordering gay Happy meals (all of which come with a toy)..

I could imagine the cries of “I already have this toy!” as the toys are being swapped back and forth with the till woman. “Little Johnny needs Random Tiger B to complete his set of really shitty plastic pieces of shit that break before the car has gotten out of the carpark”

What irritates me more than fucking anything is that the driver – whilst possibly earning some sympathy for having such effective reproductive organs – needs a fucking good kicking. I just wanted to get out and walk to the window and shout “LISTEN FUCKWITT – IF YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF SPECIAL NEEDS ORDER WHY NOT GO INSIDE THE FUCKING STORE AND PISS AROUND OVER THE COUNTER AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY” except I didn’t because I’m a spineless pussy at heart.

And then… The Espace drives off. I order… “Could you please go and park in Grill Bay number 1 – the order will be right over”

Why couldn’t another sperm have fertilised my mothers egg?

I hate Pepsi Max.

It’s the most foul fucking shitty excuse for a liquid on the earth. Who ever thought “Lets make a new strain of Pepsi that will have no sugar in it and then call it something active like MAX” needs to be shot,

If I was to take something out of something else, then the original something is now less because of the something I removed from it.

For example, take the caffiene out of Coffee and it becomes de-caffinated coffee.

How then, does removing sugar from Pepsi make it “to the max”? – You’re telling me that the hip-young-twenty somethings that jump off cliffs with peices of wood attached to their feet will thank you for pissing on their Xtreme (dood) lifestyle by removing the most daring thing in Pepsi and then calling it Pepsi Max.

I say this is totally false advertising. Pepsi Max shouldn’t be called Pepsi max at all, it should be called “Pepsi minimum”

I’m making a list of all the stores/items/clothing/sofa companies that I’m never ever going to buy another thing from ever again.

Why? Because on November the 6th they are advertising for Christmas. I mean, I hate Christmas at the best of times, (my loathing for this period of the year is well documented) – but advertising with Christmas Jingles in November is really bang out of order in my opinion. All Christmas adverts should be banned until at LEAST December.

So last night was Bonfire night too. That one came and went just like Halloween. I’ve had to explain to a few people that don’t celebrate what Bonfire night is (Yes, Americans, Canadians and the Like) – Bonfire night is an excuse to burn money. Kinda like new years eve, but this has no real significance.

What is the point of buying fireworks and then sending them up into the sky? Might as well just chuck your cash on the fire. Fuckwits.

19:16 Saturday

If you look at the Archives on SYH.com you’ll see that Saturdays have often been a day where there isn’t a blog entry. Why so tonight? Why? Because I feel so bloody bored at the moment. I’m just counting the reasons why I don’t go and throw myself infront of a train, and so far I’ve come up with one.

“Cos it might make a bit of a mess”

This must be the first Saturday night that I’ve spent in…. This year. Or at least it feels like it, Saturday night Tv is awful. Ant n Dec just aren’t funny. Their idea of being funny is to say something that’s heavily scripted. And then do “fake losing it laughter” – you know the kind of “unscripted laughter” as if they are so amused by their own jokes that they can’t control themselves.

The golden rule of being a comedian/entertainer is that you don’t laugh at your own jokes.

I just heard a bang… Fuckin fireworks on the night after bonfire night. Now where as I think people who buy fireworks for Bonfire night are just fucking plebs. People that buy fireworks for the night after are such bigger plebs.

The W.A.S.O [World Anti Stupidity Organisation] have issued a statement for all tourists planning to visit the United States of America in the near, or even distant future.

The W.A.S.O are concerned that any intelligent individual visiting the states marked on the above map in red may come into contact with truly fucking thick individuals.

People so thick that they confuse the Italian Flag for the flag of near neighbour, Canada.

=

The W.A.S.O urge anyone of sane mind and body to avoid these red states. Repeat, do not visit these states unless you fall into one of the following categories.

The W.A.S.O also comments that although states in Blue are probably alright to visit, they do suggest that you are vastly increasing your chances of bumping into a fucking moron if you stay for any length of time/converse with any of the population.

They suggest that you take preventative measures such as carrying an “English to Moron” dictionary with you at all times.

They also would like to notify potential tourists that the W.A.S.O are so far unsure if the the states of New Mexico and Iowa are infected with fucking thick individuals and so therefore are probably best avoided.

“It’s the day of the freak” says someone to me. You know what? I couldn’t disagree.

Last night had very little of note, I got blanked by some random fuckin girl that I shouldn’t have bothered even acknowledging. Fucking Friends of a Friend.

I don’t see the point of dressing up like a witch on the night before halloween just to go and stand in a nightclub and look clever. I have news for you, horns on the head really isn’t a novel or clever costume. It just makes you look like a twat. Especially when it’s not even the actual day.

And now it’s actually halloween.

Again the doorbell rings… Again it gets ignored. I wonder if my car is alright, I should have parked it outside a house that actually answers its doors. – Does this sound as mean spirited as it probably is? Ignoring little kids on my doorstep? Well fucking good. This is Winsford people, you don’t open your door unless holding a small (or large depending on the time of day) firearm.

Right, I’m off to look at the Tv and wonder what that noise is…

Vote Kerry. or better yet, vote Kermit

I fucking hate these signs. What is the point of them? Can someone please explain to me why it is important for me, as the driver behind to know that there is a rug muncher on the back seat? Is it so that I don’t crash into them. (Because, you know, I often drive around with the idea of crashing into cars on purpose – “Oh, they haven’t got a baby on board, Great!” *RAM*) – Strangely, accidents are events that are usually out of a persons control…

Another thing about them that annoys me is that the drivers of these cars are usually repressed adult males who hang their head in shame as their wife pussy whips them into putting a fucking SIGN that basically equates to “Pussy whipped” on the back of their car.

I saw a Mitsubishi VR4 driving down the road today with a sign that read “small person on board” – What the fuck? That car is like a fucking fighter jet, and it has the equivalent of furry dice on the back…

And because these pussy whipped husbands are FORCED to have the sign on the back window, they get their revenge by driving like complete and utter arseholes, just to prove that they still have genitals. So, at 100mph in a fifty, the proud male can smile happily as he whistles past anything obeying the speed limit…

“Safe driving eh? disgraceful, specially with a baby on board” thinks Mr Policeman.

I find these signs insulting and possibly a little insensitive. I feel sorry for the thousands of people that are incapable of having children of their own crying in the lay-bys and the garage stations after seeing one of these signs in the back of a Mondeo.

What about midgets? Won’t they be offended by the sign “Little person on board”?

So, what I’m basically saying is. If you ever get the choice of facing certain death in a car wreck, and you have the split second decision of taking out a Metro with a rather attractive girl driving, or a MG ZT with a “Baby on board” sign with the “perfect 2.4 family” driving along with their sunglasses resting on their head – I want you to take that sign as the mitigating factor in your decision.

I know sure as hell I will.

I nearly ran out of petrol this morning, no mean feat I can tell you. Ho Hum…

You know what pisses me off while I’m driving? Simple really.. Someone who goes 20mph in a 30mph area, and so creates a fucking big cue behind them. (Of which, I was at the lead), me, being a nice person, decide to be at least two cars distance away from the small little loopo.

“Only a fool breaks the two second rule” I think as I coast along behind the granny driving a loopo. I swear, I wasn’t doing anything aggressive or naughty, merely following at a sensible distance (on a fucking horrible night where overtaking really isn’t a good idea)

Suddenly, ol’ blue rinse decides that I’m tail gating her. We gather speed to go into a sixty, (all of 35mph now!) and she slams on her breaks in some sort of “get off my tail” gesture.

Now. These gestures work when the person you’re aiming it at is actually on your tail when they are (like me) a good decade later in the street, they sort of have time to react.

Naturally, I show my bemusement by stopping and waiting for the silly bitch to accelerate again. Now we’re into a sixty…

The speed increases again, a whole 40mph now. Again, I’m still following sensibly, not really looking to overtake, and not really sat on her bumper either.

We exit the sixty (a week or so after we entered it because of the reduced speed) and go into a blind bend/with junction/on a fucking hellishly windy and rainy night/with fog.

On this blind bend, the granny in front decides to be even more clever and try and psych me out with her evil granny eyes. And so, she flicks on her interior light.

Wait a minute.. Here’s a quick lesson in reality here folks.

If you’re stood in a darkened room, and look out of a window, you can see into the night. However, the second you turn on a light in the room, the window becomes a mirror very basically. Guess what? Same principal applies in a car…

So on this blind bend/with junction/on a fucking hellishly windy and rainy night/with fog – now the granny with a severe problem at distinguishing distance is even MORE blind than she was approximately two minutes before.

Again I shake my head and wonder how some people survive this long.

She stops. I don’t mean Mirror, Signal, Manoeuvre, I mean. She stops.

THEN she puts on her indicators.

“Oh you want me to overtake you…..” on this blind bend/with junction/on a fucking hellishly windy and rainy night/with fog.

So, I stick my indicator on, rev my engine in genuinely “Ok-I’m-Pissed-Now” mode, and roll past her car with a gnats chuff distance between wing mirrors.

It’s not speed daemons or chav mother fuckers that cause accidents on the roads, it’s fucking stupid silly bitches that act unpredictably in stupidly bad conditions while thinking someone else is at fault. Yes, women might be involved in less accidents than men, THATS BECAUSE THEY FUCKING CAUSE THEM ALL.

Define “Irony”:

Recieving a spam e-mail that has the subject “RE: Stop e-mails like this one” which contains an unsolicited advert for anti-spam software..

And ITV for that matter..

How about.. Introducing a new character in a soap, that’s straight! it’d be such a novel idea.

How about Straight eye for the straight guy? What’s wrong with that? You could have a straight guy without a little dog actually making judged decisions on…..erm.. Reality.

Instead of letting a small sausage dog gallop through ‘yes’ and ‘no’ gates, the straight guy could instead just think about it. And shopping, it would be easy, instead of mincing around and buying pink cullenders, they could just think “I know, I’ll let my victim pick whatever they fucking like as I’m not going to be the one actually fucking using it in the future”

How about “Straight Decoration” – where, instead of two gay guys coming around to a persons house and making it all fashionable (sweety) they could have a straight guy who comes around and says “tell ya fucking what… how about just doing what you like?” – He could perhaps open a few cans of beer and burp too. Because that’s manly and you don’t ever see a gay do that.

“No one ever uses decking anyway *burp*” – and another thing. No one does use decking. What the fuck is that about? One of my friends spent over two grand on his decking, (presumably because he’s been watching gays tell him he should have decking) – two grand! What the fuck? Why?! It’s wood! Argh.

How about a new soap character that isn’t camp. It would be great, he could be introduced by hitting on.. well.. a female. And then he could be funny and witty and fun loving, without being gay… Amazing.

Childrens Tv presenters, you know, they could be straight.. It’d be such a novel idea, instead of dressing like the seventh member of McShite they could just be male, and into football, and beer, and shagging women. Fuck doing stupid gay ass dance moves, and fuck mincing around with very poorly disguised innuendo at 8:35am.

And it doesn’t stop there..

“Trinny and Susanna – get some fashion sense so they actually know what they are talking about before making condescending judgements about other people”. Alright, I accept the title needs a little work but still, the message is there.. Those two are definitely lesbians too. Fucking annoyingly bouncing each others tits and saying “oohh aren’t we stylish” – why don’t you fucking die? Please.

Right.. Before you press “comment here” with your misconstrued “acusing me of being homophobic” comments, how about you investigate this important conundrum…

If I pinch a woman on the ass and she turns around and smacks me in the face. She’s standing up for her rights. However, if a gay pinches me on the ass and I turn around and smack him in the face, I’m a homophobe.

And you’re not the only person to ever split up with someone.

Its funny, I have such little sympathy for people that cry about the end of a relationship. –

Backstory: A random couple that I have seen on a few nights out now, always in each others pockets, really, (quite frankly) unimportant and uninteresting people to me. – I say “hi”, and they say “hi”, and that’s as far as it was ever going to go.

So last night I was out with a few of my friends and bumped into the female half of this couple. Naturally the question “Where’s your other half tonight?” considering that every time I’ve ever seen them, they have been together, talk about saimese twins.

“Oh we split up last week” she says with a frown. And so I randomly talk, in my typical “Wow, that was clever” fashion. Eventually I flick on the “I care. No really, I give two fucks” mode in my head and say “aww, I’m sorry to hear that”.

Then a whole load of phrases go through my head and each one I selectively get rid of.

“Just remember there are plenty more fish in the sea”…
“Oh well, I thought he was a twat anyway”…
“Well there’s always alcohol”…
“Could be worse”…

I ended up plumping for pulling a stupid fucking face and saying “ya want a drink?” – I find that alcohol solves many problems. For example, it solves organ donation problems… (everything but the kidney)

Then she started to cry. Awww poor baby.

Problem: You’re stood in a bar with a woman that is roughly equal height as you, while all your friends, and all her friends are not as tall. And the woman is crying, and the man is silent.

From the onlookers perspective, it looked like we were a couple, and I’d just said something that upset her. I swear, there were like five guys all looking at me like “you want to fight me? Duuuhh” and then a load of girls looking at me going “you male bastard, ALL MEN ARE BASTARDS!, *daggers daggers daggers* Bastard, Male Bastard!”

So I said. “Hey, I don’t even know ya name and you’re crying on my shoulder” – and she stopped.

it was like a tap.

it was amazing. From full on, head down bawling to “i’m fine” in litterally two seconds.

In the taxi home I was talking to my friend, and I said “so how come they split up?”

“Apparently she has really bad mood swings”

No shit… What I don’t tolerate is people considering their relationships as “special”, more “special” than anyone elses. I bet whenever any of her friends had split up she’d have been cold and said “ahh grow up”, and then when it’s her. It’s the end of the earth.

Cold, heartless, bastard me eh? – ya got me.

What the fuck? Is anyone… What the… Sorry.. What?

Is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing on ITV at the moment? A show called “The Celebrity Awards”..

An award show for what? Celebrity?

Are you fucking kidding me? Awarding people awards for the simple act of being known? – What the fuck?! What a fucking stupid fucking show this is..

“Congratulations, you’ve been on Tv” – yeah yeah fuckers, keep clinging onto that 15 minutes a bit longer. I mean, Dan out of Big Brother? What the fuck have you done to be considered special? You’ve sat in a room with a few cameras on you for 10 weeks and now you expect an award for it? I’m amazed you haven’t had the shit kicked out of you for it…

And that twatface from footballers wives. What?! Fuck yourself, you can’t act, and to be frank, if you were stood next to me in the pension cue, I really wouldn’t notice (or care).

“These people are people that have entered the public conscious and have grown to be loved” – WHAT!? Loved by who? Who said “Hey, I love that twat from Eastenders..” – I never voted, who did? Oh that’s right, the board of fucking luvies that sat around thinking “Ya know what? we should have a celebrity awards so that we can get all these z-list celebrities in one studio at once” – Just a pity that no one thought of putting a small explosive device into the mix.

No, these people are all schmucks enough to think they are actually famous enough to consider themselves special. I mean, it’s hosted by that bloody McCutchin bint. What the fuck has she done? Stared in a crappy Tv show, sang some shite music that failed completely. Oh megastar.

Whereas the crowd is made up of sporting heros, and then bit part, second rate “Tv” stars. I don’t mind the sporting heros there, cos you know, they’ve actually done something. Winning an olympic gold, I won’t belittle that and say it’s a bag of wank, but what I will say is appearing on coronation street is by no fucking way on par with winning an olympic gold medal.

It’s like comparing the discovery of gravity to the invention of the hula hoop.

I’m now going to watch the rest of this show and simmer mildly. I’m waiting for the “sexiest woman” award. That’s usually amusing..

Damn… Rachael Stevens won.. Can’t argue with that.

Sexiest male? : Prince William..

“Oh there’s a shock, he can’t be here tonight” – Yes, he’s busy being royalty. Almost as fucking stupid as being considered “celebrity”.

I feel like being sick…

I say it’s fucking inconsiderate to be honest. I just noticed that Audi’s Blog “A woman without a man” has disappeared and has ceased to be. What a nightmare, I mean, what am I going to read now? Who’s strangers website should I peruse now?

And then I notice Errantmind has gone too. For forty quid a week. Don’t leave me all on my own here people! Not with the spastics and the genuinely uninteresting people.

That’s the strange thing about blogs you kind of just assume that they will always be there, written by someone who writes them just for you.

Thats not the way it works is it? I guess there are real people behind them, I guess that people move on.

Well you fuckers can all relax with the calming knowledge that ScrewYouHippy will be around for as long as I am. (which could be anywhere upto a week or fifty years)

Providing, of course, that in fifty years the internet still exists and we’re not all flying around in rocket cars…

Actually fifty years is a fucking optimistic life expectancy. I say twenty years tops…

Cheeeeerrrffuuulll..

Over and out.

oh yeah, this wasn’t a dig at either Audi or P as they both have much more interesting lives than I do and therefore need all the time they can get to do things that don’t revolve around writing websites for unappreciative fucks like me

And another thing… There’s no way on earth we’ll ever be flying around in rocket cars because A) Rockets run on fossil fuels at present, and so we might as well just invent something better – like the teleport. B) humans are notoriously crap at thinking three dimensionally. Some people can’t even indicate at a round about, imagine if there was the requirement to indicate in 360 degrees of direction, and C) there is no C) I just wanted to say “And C)” Like I knew what I was talking about and not, as you have probably guessed by now, a clueless idiot.

Really over and out this time

Ya know what makes me giggle? Beside watching people fall over? – Top of the Pops. Yes, I admit that I’m a bit sad even admitting that this Tv show sometimes graces my Tv (and indeed other things containing metal, like my fillings, but that’s a different story)

The key thing about Top of the Pops is just how wank it is. That’s right, Did you hear me bbc.co.uk? (cos apparently someone from their servers is hitting my server) – The last show I watched had the “prince of darkness”, Marilyn Manson performing a…well.. not…really… changed…. at… all… version of Depeche Modes – Personal Jesus.

While this song is an all time classic – (Come on, it is, I mean, it’s got random lyrics such as.


Feeling unknown
And you’re all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I’ll make you a believer


I mean, come on? Sit by the phone and I’ll phone you and make you a believer? Wooo, I’m scared… – Anyway. Back to my point.

Marilyn Manson is really a puppy dog. I’ve suspected it for a while, beyond the outlandish eyeliner is a soppy little baby waiting to get out. How do I know this? Simple. He MIMED on top of the pops.

That’s not very Rock is it? I mean, if he was truly the spawn of Satan, he’d fucking torch the Top of the Pops studio down while singing..

“Ra-Ra-Ra-Bloody-Ra-Ra-I-am-the-evil-lord-he-he”

He wouldn’t just stand there and bastardise a once decent song to promote his shit by miming.

And what’s more important is if you’re going to cover another artists song, change it. Don’t just sing it exactly the same with a slightly different guitar in the background.

Onto other things.

I like this website. I wish it was a screensaver.

What the Internet looks like

It’s very arty, and sometimes brilliant, other times average, but always going to suck away five minutes of your life.

Edit: The above link is not work safe as it occasionally uses pictures of questionable content. (Yes, Porn)

God damn Microsoft, Bunch of hippies. Since I’ve installed service pack two my entire PC has been slower than an OAP rollerskating down some stairs. – It’s fucking tragic, talk about planned obsolescence.

Why does every company on the planet seem intent on making their once-decent peice of software, utility, toast into a steaming pile of shite?

Google is heading that way (come on, lets face it, it is), Microsoft love doing that, and now Trend Microsystems have gone and fucked up their anti-virus scanner.

Ever heard of the phrase “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” – (This, of course, doesn’t apply to Microsoft, your shit has always been broke and always needs fixing)

I’m also a bit arsed off with Spyware and fucking Viruses. I’m also pissed at Internet connection sharing.

God damn….

One thing about EA games is they are made for spastics. Having just purchased one, I realise that my first statement suggests that I am also a spastic. While it’s probably quite difficult to deny that I share a lot of spac-like tendencies. I would just like to make sure one thing is clear.

When I press the fucking retry button, I WANT TO RETRY.

I don’t want to see what new cars I’ve unlocked, I don’t want to see my irrelevant-soon-to-be-retried-over new highscore, and I don’t need telling I have a new photograph in my bloody album.

Why do people put questions like “are you sure you want to quit?” “are you really really really sure?” “no… I think you’re a total gimp who pressed quit by mistake, and now I’m trying to save you by asking you a third and final time”

The thing that erks me the most is that Burnout 3 is a major league “throw away” kinda game. If you set a great time, and then accidentally hit “quit” or “retry” you’d shrug your shoulders and resign yourself to doing it again. The actual ethos of the game is “crazy” mentality, no rules, no constraints, just play…. Albeit with the rather stupid User Interface questions..

And what’s also more annoying is the loading screens. The UI path of the game is something like this.

Load -> Demonstration video -> Load -> Current Highscore table -> Mini Load -> Game -> Load -> Results screen -> Load -> Would you like to continue or retry? -> Load -> “Are you sure you want to retry?” -> Load -> “Yes” -> Load.

ARgh! I know Microsoft has TRC’s that prevent a load of longer than 15 seconds but what about when the cumulative many mini-load times are the equivalent of reading War and Peace.

Bring back the days of the Spectrum I say, sure, the graphics were crap, the games, well, were crap, and all in all, the Spectrum was crap, but still, at least it loaded all the shit it needed at the beginning and then let you play all night. (Or alternatively, it’d load all night and you could play for about five minutes in the morning) At least you’d never have to press the Play button on your decky for hours…

Unless of course, your spectrum was one of those bloody awful multi-loaders. Then pressing the Play button was a fraught experience where only the bravest could do it without shedding a tear. That was a proper retry UI. And it didn’t even have the screen. Nope.

Basically your spectrum was saying “Oi, you wanna continue or retry?” – where to continue, you pressed Play and prayed to whatever gods were fashionable at the time. or option B) the spectrum would make a noise akin to a very complicated gear mechanism chewing a wham bar and you’d be dumped back at Load”"

Now THAT was when you needed to be asked about continue/retry.

I was driving to work like a silly person this morning. So it took approximately a week of driving back and forth before the arseholes started to irritate me. For example, the RAC van that insisted on doing 35mph in a 60mph road.

But not content with that, noo, he then STOPPED at a junction… This would sound like healthy obedience with the road traffic laws, but then I’m going to mention the one big point about this junction. It was a one way junction. If you can see that theres nothing in-front of you, just go, don’t fucking stop and wait and look around a corner at a traffic lane that is going away from you. Arrghh..

Helicopters… Called as such because of their “heli” ability, and their “copterness” – the scientific terms for the whirly thing on the top of the helicopter.

Most people love the word “chopper”, and I’m no exception, Yes, the word chopper is underused in my opinion.

I’m a bit of a James Bond fan, many a hour have I wondered which Bond has been the best.. Connery? Moore? Dolton?

No ladies and germs, the best James Bond is definitely *without* a doubt Mr Pierce Brosnan.

Why? Well, not only is he dapper and a hit with the ladies, but he’s also a cool mother fucker. When Connery picked up a machine gun he would fuck around, and run like a gay lord. Moore would wear sky blue suits and hang out with jive mofos. (Something I actually quite liked, but still, sky blue?), and Dolton, well, I put dolton in there for a laugh. He’s exceptionally wank.

And so, we have Brosnan. He picks up an uzi and just fires it, not particularly looking where he’s firing, he just fires. He uses human shields, he quite happily gets people in the traditional “gun to head” position and then blows their brains out. No fucking fancy chop socky, we’re talking real “Bang! – ave’ some of that!” stuff.

See, if I was a secret agent, (oh god if only), I’d be partial to shagging around and basically blugeoning anyone I met. Fuck the hanging around in casinos with x-ray specs, fuck the two hours of nothing much happening. Just give me an uzi I can fire in random directions and I’d be set.

Bringing myself back onto the point that I started this post with emblazened in my head.

Choppers.. Helicopters.

Using their rotors to generate lift. They fly by tilting their hull upon a pivot somewhere in the middle of the aircraft. This means when the helicopter is pivoted forward, it moves forward, when it is pivoted backwards, it moves backwards.

This is also magnified the further past the point of pivot a helicopter goes. If, for example, the helicopter points it’s nose pretty much at the floor, the helicopter generally goes forwards very very fast.

However, there is a scene in “Tomorrow never dies” where Bond and Wai Lin are riding a BMW motorcycle and they turn around to charge at a helicopter that is basically “cutting” through a market place.

Lets ignore the fact that helicopters.. generally.. don’t like anything hitting their rotors (call it a weakness) and if it hit anything more solid than a marshmellow, the helicopter would probably fall out of the sky. Lets ignore that bit and go onto the really really gay bit.

The really really gay bit.

The helicopter is CREEPING forwards at about 1mph. Hmmm. So what you’re telling me is, the helicopter pilot is so good that, not only can he fly his helicopter at 0 altitude when the nose is pointing at the ground, but he can also fly his helicopter at 0 altitude when the nose is pointing at the ground slowly…

Impressive shit. I think they should just get the pilot to entrap bond by summoning a firey daemon from whatever fucking realm of unreality he came from.

Apart from that, “Tomorrow never dies” is an okay film, except for the very weak bad guys, and very weak plot. Apparently Brosnan is going to be cursed with weak villains in all his films.

The names Bitch.. Big Bitch.

The “new” VW Beetle. Now theres a stupid car. Not only does it look like an overly cute jelly mold. It also has a distinct sense of idiocy around it.

Let me explain…

First up, the original VW Beetle is a crap car. It was never particularly clever, and only ever gained any sort of “cool” because of surf dudes driving it around thinking they were clever. Nevermind eh? – And so, Volkswagon in their infinite wisdom decide to remake the VW Beetle, because it was such a classic, and turn it into a fat looking Audi TT.

The thing that really gauls me about the new VW Beetle is a very small, seemingly tiny little detail concering it’s dashboard.

Get this.. The New[ish] VW Beetle has a vase on the dashboard so you can put a flower in it. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t flowers fucking hate being indoors? Sticking them inside a car is surely a pointless exercise?

But that’s not the stupid part. Oh no.. The stupid part is that by putting a flower in the vase, you’re “a hippy kinda person”.. Fucking hippies. What they don’t realise is that they are driving around a CAR!, Fucking environmentalists. I can just imagine it. “Hey, I’m green because I have a flower in my new VW Beetle”, you fucking twats, your car is spewing out enough noxious gases to kill a few russian cinema goers.

before I go

Another thing I fucking hate is fucking dickheads that park in the disabled spot of a car park. I was sat outside FatDonalds and watched four cars use the disabled space as they went inside to get a burger.

I don’t get it.. They can’t be bothered to find a parking spot. Because they are that lazy, and YET they’ll happily park in a disabled parking spot, get out of their car and cue for a burger… Wait a minute.. This is a drive thru! if you’re that fucking lazy that you’ll park in the wrong spot because it’s near the door, How about just fucking using the drive thru? ARRRGH Fucking morons.

I feel I was totally within my rights to shout at a 17 year old girl saying “Oi, Bitch, are you fucking disabled? Maybe you’re fucking blind and can’t see the fucking sign, why don’t you use that brain god gave you and move your fucking car, two fucking spaces to the left, and be a good person for a change” silently.

It’s time to knock a few heads I feel.

Screw You, you fucking hippies.

Fuck me, I’m fucking fucked with fucking every fucking thing going fucking on around fucking here, mother fucking fuckers fucked. For fucksake.