It's tough being a citizen of any country, you have to accept the known stereotypes. You have to accept what that some people will hate you for things your government deem to be acceptable behavior, although it never is. You have to put up with your taxes being wasted on nonsense that you may not agree with. Worst of all, I guess, you have to deal with the archaic laws and practices of a group of people charged with taking the country forward, but at the same time never accept, or take in to account that times change, people change and the world evolves.
Take for example the British Royal Family, this is a tricky subject in this country. The idea of a Queen, Princes and Princesses may seem like a bit of a joke to many around the world, and to many in the UK, equally there are a high percentage of Loyal Royalists who think that it sets us a part, having this system. Letting a family of inbred Germans bleed the country dry while giving very little back.
While the world watched The Royal Wedding last year, millions of people saw it as a true love story, Will and Kate. The Prince and the Commoner, as it was billed. Love it may have been, but there were more sinister reasons for the coupling. Maybe not completely factual, I am literally making this shit up as I go, but I'll try and make it as believable as possible.
When the Queen married Prince Phillip of Greece, she did so in the wake of WW2 while Britain was in the depths of recession. It was no coincidence that Wills and Kate married in similar circumstances. Post-ish war (we will never be post war again), recession, people in need of a good time. A return to British values (whatever they may be). There is one massive difference between the two couplings, Kate and William are in no way related. This difference is the main reason for the marriage.
Incest plays havoc on the gene pool. Had they kept on down the same cousin fucking road that they have been on since they told all the peasants that "ze are taking control of ze country". Some fresh blood was needed, it is believed that the long serving Royal Doctor was simply fed up cutting off extra fingers and rounding the tops of heads. The baby that will inevitably be born of this tryst will stand a better chance being that the blood that flows in Kates Common veins is not the same as her husbands. This was the real big news, not the dress, not her ugly sister's skinny ass, not the service or guest list. New blood in the royal family is a cause for international celebration.
The crux of the matter, in my eyes, is that we allow these people to live for free under the belief that they are better than us. That the tainted blood which flows through their veins is in some way better than the blood which flows through ours, and that is coming from a guy who descended from Augustus, First Emperor Of Rome. Their system is an antique. It is in dire need of fixing. Which, I suppose, is where I come in.
To keep the Royalists happy I shall allow the Queen and her immediate family to continue the life they are accustomed to. Queen, Prince Phillip, Charles, the other brothers whose names escape me, and of course William and Illegitimate Harry. Everyone else has to get a job. No more free ride, your self imposed importance is invalid now that so many tax paying, honest and clean blooded citizens are living in poverty. As for the immediate family, it's performance time. The Queen doesn't do enough. Tradition can go fuck itself, daily performances for the tourists, while they change the guard, the Queen should be out meeting and greeting and posing for photos. As the times change, so should our outdated practices.
The likes of the Ugly Sisters, whom I can't remember the names of either, but I believe them to be the daughters of Fergie, the princess not the singer. They have to go. Same with Zara and her meathead husband.
I feel I have been too nice. An attempt to be diplomatic perhaps. So I'll finish by pointing out that these inbred German landgrabbers have drained this country dry with their catholic-level of pro-creation. There are too many of them. If all this wasn't bad enough they are also directly responsible for the rise of celebrity culture, it was practically invented to dupe the country into accepting Prince Phillip of Greece as their new Prince after he and then Princess, future Queen Elizabeth hit it off when she was just his 13 year old cousin. A mass campaign of proving his Britishness, and then the perceived notion forced into the minds of the public through the tabloid media that they were, in essence, part of the big wedding because without that idea the public might get a little miffed that they were spending tens of thousands on a wedding while the war weary public couldn't afford bread.
Sure, people will bitch and moan all day about immigrants playing the system, but why should people seeking refuge and a better life care about bleeding the system dry when it is a system watched over by the biggest scrounging family in the history of Britain?
Their time has come, it's over, this is just me bitching about shit that is coming to an end anyway. As the country becomes more and more diverse, the need, or understanding the need for a Royal Family becomes more and more obscure. They should be put to work. All of them. Prince Phillip should have been given his own show years ago where we introduce him to various people of ethnicity and just wait for the magic to happen. The Queen should be out meeting the public on a daily basis, shaking hands, posing for photos. Charles should be made to tap dance on the roof of the palace in order to, in some small way, earn all the play medals he wears at official events.
Millions of people turn out per year to look at a big, garish palace in the middle of London, the Royals don't really need to be in it, these people would come anyway. So this is almost me being nice to the Royal family, their time is short, they must adapt or become obsolete. If they pulled their weight a bit with the tourists the country would generate more money. If there is ever a good looking one she could pose for playboy and pump the fee into the tax payers pockets. But that is way off. We will wait and see if Kate and Wills have a good looking child. Something on par with the Queen when she was around 19/20. That would do, she was born at the wrong time. She was hot, and if you look closely at photos, she was hiding a magnificent pair of tits. Such a waste.
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
Tuesday, 20 December 2011
Rolling News Can Suck My Balls.
It's when someone newsworthy dies that Rolling News really gets into it's stride. The presenters, or hosts, or whatever they're calling themselves nowadays - they shake with joy at the prospect of talking for hours with limited information. Their TV chops are tested to the limit as they all compete to say the same thing for the entirety of their shift, how ever long it must be. But we watch it anyway. All fucking night. We check twitter to see who is cracking the funniest joke about the most recent dead person. So far I haven't seen anyone saying "RIP Kim Jong il"... No one brave enough obviously. Now it feels like the time has gone, too many people on my feed have already celebrated the death of the North Korean maniac. Now it would just look like I was trying too hard.
But I mean it. I may confuse him with the Team America version of him, but still he seemed like an interesting fellow. But that is neither here nor there, and surely unsurprising.
It gets to the point where these Cunty Mouthpieces are simply either reading the Wiki page of the deceased or speaking on the phone to someone with a tenuous link to them.
It was about 3 hours into me watching the BBC find new ways to say "Kim Jong il is dead!" that I realised something. I am not one of those people who thinks about my contribution to the BBC via my license fee when watching the TV, but I did last night. We pay quite a bit of money into the corporation, and right in the middle of the day, depending on when you get up, the two main channels turn into rolling news and Teletext, which is exactly the same thing, news and weather in old computer style font.
This lasts until the end of the day, around 6 am, I feel like I am being ripped off. Naturally I have no real issue with the BBC because they have amazing TV shows like Frozen Planet and Have I Got News For You, and many more that I can't currently think of. But in terms of entertaining the millions of people who, like me, don't sit down to watch TV properly until after midnight. Just as the BBC decide to stop programming in favour of pummeling "news" down our throats. But fear not, I obviously have a plan, an idea.
The public, those who pay for the British Broadcasting Corporation and love nothing more than bitching and moaning about anything and everything, should be given a proper forum. I suggest Public Access TV. Kill off that fucking Teletext nonsense that is so utterly redundant that it is a wonder anyone even watches it anymore. I don't want to sit down and have what the BBC want you to think about something shoved down my throat. I pay for this shit, I want to be entertained God Dammit! I wouldn't care what the subject was, and that would be the point. It would hopefully worm out the people who not only get offended but those who convince themselves that it's someone elses problem, when it's not. There would be little in the way of guidelines, certainly much less than the BBC currently adhere to. It would be able to be different rules because it is public access, it would be the word of the people paying for it. Therefore the same rules would not apply. Naturally there would be some rules. No animal fucking. No murder. No nationalism. Those things are just not cool. But anything else goes.
There is little in the way of decent background noise on after 2 am. Most channels end. By a certain time your options are roulette, news, teletext, shopping networks and babestation. The titties win that battle obviously, but sometimes it is fun to watch shopping networks to see how amazing the presenters can make a hair brush sound. It's a talent. It is like the Rolling News, in the sense that the presenter has to talk pish for hours, and hours, and hours, and hours about the same fucking thing.
I am happy to have the titties on screen. It is just a shame that the titties are all grotesquely fake and the faces the titties belong to are just awful. I get the appeal of babestation I guess, I mean I don't really. But I kind of do, people who aren't aware of the limitless free porn which is available on the internet, in which you can see just about anything you want, they are the target audience of this tripe. People do phone it, if they didn't it wouldn't be on. They phone some ugly tart with terrible make up and worse tits and they spend money on wanking. I mean, it's better than watching rolling news I suppose, but it's incredibly fucking stupid.
We, the people who stay up late, deserve to be entertained also. And the people who pay for the BBC deserve the chance to get their point across. I simply see no argument other than the completely redundant "people might get offended" argument. Because the people who get offended and feel the desire to complain about it can go fuck themselves. Then maybe grow up and understand the way the world works. There is no reason not to open late night programming up to the public. Be it filmed in an actual studio, if you have the resources, or simply you and some friends on a webcam talking about football, music, cars, clothes or whatever.
If we have learned anything with the rise of Social Networking it is that everyone has something to say, and more often than not it is hysterical, intentionally or otherwise.
But I mean it. I may confuse him with the Team America version of him, but still he seemed like an interesting fellow. But that is neither here nor there, and surely unsurprising.
It gets to the point where these Cunty Mouthpieces are simply either reading the Wiki page of the deceased or speaking on the phone to someone with a tenuous link to them.
It was about 3 hours into me watching the BBC find new ways to say "Kim Jong il is dead!" that I realised something. I am not one of those people who thinks about my contribution to the BBC via my license fee when watching the TV, but I did last night. We pay quite a bit of money into the corporation, and right in the middle of the day, depending on when you get up, the two main channels turn into rolling news and Teletext, which is exactly the same thing, news and weather in old computer style font.
This lasts until the end of the day, around 6 am, I feel like I am being ripped off. Naturally I have no real issue with the BBC because they have amazing TV shows like Frozen Planet and Have I Got News For You, and many more that I can't currently think of. But in terms of entertaining the millions of people who, like me, don't sit down to watch TV properly until after midnight. Just as the BBC decide to stop programming in favour of pummeling "news" down our throats. But fear not, I obviously have a plan, an idea.
The public, those who pay for the British Broadcasting Corporation and love nothing more than bitching and moaning about anything and everything, should be given a proper forum. I suggest Public Access TV. Kill off that fucking Teletext nonsense that is so utterly redundant that it is a wonder anyone even watches it anymore. I don't want to sit down and have what the BBC want you to think about something shoved down my throat. I pay for this shit, I want to be entertained God Dammit! I wouldn't care what the subject was, and that would be the point. It would hopefully worm out the people who not only get offended but those who convince themselves that it's someone elses problem, when it's not. There would be little in the way of guidelines, certainly much less than the BBC currently adhere to. It would be able to be different rules because it is public access, it would be the word of the people paying for it. Therefore the same rules would not apply. Naturally there would be some rules. No animal fucking. No murder. No nationalism. Those things are just not cool. But anything else goes.
There is little in the way of decent background noise on after 2 am. Most channels end. By a certain time your options are roulette, news, teletext, shopping networks and babestation. The titties win that battle obviously, but sometimes it is fun to watch shopping networks to see how amazing the presenters can make a hair brush sound. It's a talent. It is like the Rolling News, in the sense that the presenter has to talk pish for hours, and hours, and hours, and hours about the same fucking thing.
I am happy to have the titties on screen. It is just a shame that the titties are all grotesquely fake and the faces the titties belong to are just awful. I get the appeal of babestation I guess, I mean I don't really. But I kind of do, people who aren't aware of the limitless free porn which is available on the internet, in which you can see just about anything you want, they are the target audience of this tripe. People do phone it, if they didn't it wouldn't be on. They phone some ugly tart with terrible make up and worse tits and they spend money on wanking. I mean, it's better than watching rolling news I suppose, but it's incredibly fucking stupid.
We, the people who stay up late, deserve to be entertained also. And the people who pay for the BBC deserve the chance to get their point across. I simply see no argument other than the completely redundant "people might get offended" argument. Because the people who get offended and feel the desire to complain about it can go fuck themselves. Then maybe grow up and understand the way the world works. There is no reason not to open late night programming up to the public. Be it filmed in an actual studio, if you have the resources, or simply you and some friends on a webcam talking about football, music, cars, clothes or whatever.
If we have learned anything with the rise of Social Networking it is that everyone has something to say, and more often than not it is hysterical, intentionally or otherwise.
Monday, 12 December 2011
The End Is Maybe Nigh.
The End Is Nigh! Repent, Repent Lest Ye Be Swallowed In To The Pits Of Hell!!
2012 may represent the end of times to the type of person who would form opinions based on something that they read on the internet. But the end I refer to is that of Reality TV. One can hope.
Jersey Shore, I felt, offered a gracious end to reality TV, a bunch of people with nothing to say being paid to get drunk, take drugs, fight and fuck. It was entertaining in the sense that these people actually exist, and not only that - you get to watch their magnificently oblivious lives play out on Music Television... I know, I know. If you remember MTV playing music you are old as fuck.
I watched weekly, I don't care what you think. But something happened and it wasn't the end of it. Which is a real shame. Instead the theme of the show spread over to us, we got Geordie Shore, where a group of even more retarded individuals mistook their entire heritage and upbringing and tried to convince the world that "true geordies" get tanned, and dress up like complete fucking idiots. This show was, in a sense, even better than Jersey Shore because while the Americans found a way to become insanely famous - to the point that someone known as Snooki, a truly awful individual with little or no common sense and absolutely nothing to say of any importance - became an international best selling author, their UK counterparts simply looked cheap, nasty and completely devoid of absolutely any sense.
As is the way with all shitty things in life, just when you think things can't get any shittier it does. And as is often the case in the UK, the standards were shat on once again by a stupendously shitty human being and all round awful cunt, Katie Price. Her abomination of a show "Signed By Katie Price" is just about the worst thing to have ever been commissioned by any TV network. It is massively pointless and feeds the growing trouble with the world. There were no objectives to speak of, it took the basics of all shows before it, the panel, the judges house etc, but it wasn't interested in any talent. The contestants walked on to the stage and, based on how they looked, were selected by Jordan to be signed for no real reason... By the time I stopped watching it some weeks in to the series, they still had no prize to offer. That is the trouble, the dumbing down of society and the lowering of standards we have shown in the last few years as a race. The biggest issue I have with this form of TV, and it is perfectly personified in "Signed By Katie Price" is that the younger generations desire to get something for nothing and a strong desire to have it now, in favour of working for it and earning it.
Which brings me to this. The reason I am glad Reality TV didn't disappear after Jersey Shore. The US version of X Factor peaked this week, and I saw something that warmed my heart and almost caused me to have a hernia from laughing. In would like to vote for Rachel Crow's reaction to being booted off the karaoke championships as the greatest moment in reality TV history. I can think of nothing that made me smile more than the moment that kid broke down on stage and cried to her mummy "you promised I'd win". This may seem harsh, to laugh at the tears of a child, but you are missing the point. This kid seems like every inch the kind of child that you would despise if you had to spend time with it. She learned a valuable lesson last week. What that lesson actually is, I am not sure... And more importantly I don't care. But what we have earned from this is one of the funniest moments in a history of other peoples triumphs. Millions tune in to put people like her on a pedestal and, for some obscure reason, give a damn about them... I tune in for moments like her being booted. Much like I only watched Big Brother on eviction night in the hope that one of the assholes would fall face first down the metal steps, no one ever did. Ten years, not one missed step, not one stumble.
"You promised me I'd win". What an idiot. She put her faith in the wrong people. Watch the moment that Steve Jones and his weird hybrid accent say "the act with the fewest votes" she smirks because she has been promised she'd win, and she believed it. Idiot. It made for glorious TV though, unless you watch it for the other reason. Perhaps you believe that these people deserve the fame they get off the back of these shows, in which case you can go fuck yourself. It isn't for any musical pretentiousness on my side, I don't listen to it, I don't care what they sing. My problem is what these shows have done to the idea of working hard to become good at something. These people don't want to be good at what they do, because by going on these shows they already think they're amazing. They just want to be famous and can't be bothered putting the work in. They don't want to wait 10 years, at the end of which they might not be famous. They want sleazy pricks with cameras to follow their every move so that everyone can see them falling out a club. Which is the only amazing thing about them. And not in a good way.
It maybe all boils down to my inbuilt hatred of stage school kids, or kids with the kind of confidence that would result in them standing on a stage at 12, in front of the world and not having even a shadow of a doubt that they would win.
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Some Prick Always Brings Myrrh To The Party.
I don't know how many of of you fine people out there have ever contemplated mass murder. Those who have will probably understand the conflict of thinking about it one minute and then trying to laugh it off the next. Contemplating a killing spree doesn't make you a psychopath, I said to myself before my shift this morning.
Worrying. Not really, some people boast about how many "birds they're going to shag", I boast about theoretical mass murder. I am not likely to embark on such a spree. But if I did, I have my defense all worked out. Well, I don't have it all worked out. Basically I'm going to blame Christmas and hope the Judge sees my point. It isn't Christmas as a whole, I do love all the movies that come on, and all the time off, and the food, and a massive number of girls who become easy due the realisation that they may very well die alone. What I don't like is the nonsense involved in buying gifts, and the fucking music.
If I ever found myself in a court of law, facing a judge who just asked "why, Mr Hunter, did you kill so many people, in such a grotesque and frenzied manner?" I would answer, "the songs your Honour. The Xmas Songs made me do it. They pushed me over the edge."
If I had to pick one song, or artist out of all the shite songs released by shite artists in honour of the proposed birth of Jesus Christ, it would probably be that Chris Rea 'Coming Home For Christmas'. Although that would probably change on a day to day basis, given the shady nature of almost all Christmas songs. Some are ok, Fairy Tale of New York is a good one, but I am struggling to think of any more. Usually they are just nonsensical jingles that have had Christmas references shat all over them. Songs like Reas wanky nonsense and "I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday" are what I imagine Hell sounds like.
Today the Christmas songs don't even have to have Christmas in the title. This is largely thanks to a TV show that far too many people talk about in a serious manner.
Christmas is a funny time of year. Christmas day is a day in which most people will gorge happily on food, surrounded by loved ones and play with the countless meaningless gifts they recieved, with little thought for less fortunate. But, hey, fuck it... New Xbox, check you out. It is a tricky day for me because I don't really like getting presents, and I am not too enamoured with buying them. But this is no scrooge vibe, I just hate the Christmas Shopping experience, I feel bad that people put themselves through it for something that I will forget about in time. There are exceptions. I do remember a lot of gifts. I got a gun one year, and the computer I write on another year. But that's it. I don't remember any others. The gun I'll kill people with, and the computer on which I'll confess.
I don't even know what this years 'must have gift' is, such is my level of enthusiasm for Christmas. Is it still Buzz Lightyear? That's the last big one I remember. When people were killing other people for a plastic toy, rather than saying no to their child. Christmas spirit does not exist in toy shops. Remember the days when you could take Gold, Frankencense and Myrrh, gift it to an illegitimate child and be remembered for thousands years to come. I miss those days.
People that I would find it easy to shop for if I let one of them in my life, is the "retro's cool" mob. The type of person who thinks it is entirely acceptable to invite you over "to play computer" in the 21st century and hand you a controller to a mega drive or a SNES. You could literally buy one of these people anything, as long as it is old and shit. Buy them some Myrrh and see their reaction they are trying to hide behind the massive rimmed glasses that they don't need. What is the point of technological advancement? Don't get me wrong, I was once given, as a gift, a Sega thing you plugged right into the TV. It had all the Sonic games, PaperBoy, Golden Axe and a bunch of others. It was great, for 5 minutes. I played the first Sonic for those 5 minutes, before putting my station back on. I found my self feeling like I was disrespecting the fine men and women who invented the Xbox and Playstation. These people have changed my life and I'm fucking about with a blue hedgehog. Pass me my AA12 and lets take some fools down.
Once again I started this because of the time that has passed since I last posted, WorldNewsVine takes up most of my words. And I had something I wanted to say, but listening to these fucking Christmas songs has destroyed my brain. How can you have a Holly Jolly Christmas? What does that even mean? More to the point, if it was Christmas everyday, then the whole thing would be pointless, wouldn't it? These songs just don't make sense. Apart from the song about Santa kissing Your Maw, because I've met your maw. Everyone's kissed her.
Merry Christmas from Henry Hunter.
Worrying. Not really, some people boast about how many "birds they're going to shag", I boast about theoretical mass murder. I am not likely to embark on such a spree. But if I did, I have my defense all worked out. Well, I don't have it all worked out. Basically I'm going to blame Christmas and hope the Judge sees my point. It isn't Christmas as a whole, I do love all the movies that come on, and all the time off, and the food, and a massive number of girls who become easy due the realisation that they may very well die alone. What I don't like is the nonsense involved in buying gifts, and the fucking music.
If I ever found myself in a court of law, facing a judge who just asked "why, Mr Hunter, did you kill so many people, in such a grotesque and frenzied manner?" I would answer, "the songs your Honour. The Xmas Songs made me do it. They pushed me over the edge."
If I had to pick one song, or artist out of all the shite songs released by shite artists in honour of the proposed birth of Jesus Christ, it would probably be that Chris Rea 'Coming Home For Christmas'. Although that would probably change on a day to day basis, given the shady nature of almost all Christmas songs. Some are ok, Fairy Tale of New York is a good one, but I am struggling to think of any more. Usually they are just nonsensical jingles that have had Christmas references shat all over them. Songs like Reas wanky nonsense and "I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday" are what I imagine Hell sounds like.
Today the Christmas songs don't even have to have Christmas in the title. This is largely thanks to a TV show that far too many people talk about in a serious manner.
Christmas is a funny time of year. Christmas day is a day in which most people will gorge happily on food, surrounded by loved ones and play with the countless meaningless gifts they recieved, with little thought for less fortunate. But, hey, fuck it... New Xbox, check you out. It is a tricky day for me because I don't really like getting presents, and I am not too enamoured with buying them. But this is no scrooge vibe, I just hate the Christmas Shopping experience, I feel bad that people put themselves through it for something that I will forget about in time. There are exceptions. I do remember a lot of gifts. I got a gun one year, and the computer I write on another year. But that's it. I don't remember any others. The gun I'll kill people with, and the computer on which I'll confess.
I don't even know what this years 'must have gift' is, such is my level of enthusiasm for Christmas. Is it still Buzz Lightyear? That's the last big one I remember. When people were killing other people for a plastic toy, rather than saying no to their child. Christmas spirit does not exist in toy shops. Remember the days when you could take Gold, Frankencense and Myrrh, gift it to an illegitimate child and be remembered for thousands years to come. I miss those days.
People that I would find it easy to shop for if I let one of them in my life, is the "retro's cool" mob. The type of person who thinks it is entirely acceptable to invite you over "to play computer" in the 21st century and hand you a controller to a mega drive or a SNES. You could literally buy one of these people anything, as long as it is old and shit. Buy them some Myrrh and see their reaction they are trying to hide behind the massive rimmed glasses that they don't need. What is the point of technological advancement? Don't get me wrong, I was once given, as a gift, a Sega thing you plugged right into the TV. It had all the Sonic games, PaperBoy, Golden Axe and a bunch of others. It was great, for 5 minutes. I played the first Sonic for those 5 minutes, before putting my station back on. I found my self feeling like I was disrespecting the fine men and women who invented the Xbox and Playstation. These people have changed my life and I'm fucking about with a blue hedgehog. Pass me my AA12 and lets take some fools down.
Once again I started this because of the time that has passed since I last posted, WorldNewsVine takes up most of my words. And I had something I wanted to say, but listening to these fucking Christmas songs has destroyed my brain. How can you have a Holly Jolly Christmas? What does that even mean? More to the point, if it was Christmas everyday, then the whole thing would be pointless, wouldn't it? These songs just don't make sense. Apart from the song about Santa kissing Your Maw, because I've met your maw. Everyone's kissed her.
Merry Christmas from Henry Hunter.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Is there any men actually working? Not if you are to believe Chatroulette.com
The damn internet is at it again. It would seem that the internet won’t stop until it has completely destroyed our children’s innocence. That is a joke, I neither have children nor give two fucks about your children or their innocence. It would appear, however, that the parents of the world, in collaboration with the tabloid media have whipped up a frenzy about the latest thing which wouldn’t upset half as many people if some parents spent more time actually parenting and less time trying to tell the rest of the adult world that we should be deprived of something entertaining or interesting because the child that you are convinced is the most special to have ever existed, could be targeted by perverts on the internet.
The internet is indeed awash with perverts of all types, as is the real world, with that in mind if you are a parent and you think the two worlds are different then whatever happens to your special little child is completely your fault… Not the site they were on, not the concept of social networking and definitely not the Internet as a whole. I’m not endorsing perverts searching for young children, obviously because that would be pretty fucked up, but all I am saying is that if you let your child post pictures of themselves on social networking sites, then don’t be surprised or angry at the internet when some old perv expresses an interest… If you do, you might as well let your child stick pictures and personal details in a phone box right next to the cheap hookers.
The latest of the social networking sites to pop up and come under attack from idiots is Chatroulette.com, which has to be seen to be believed. Just don’t come crying to me when you don’t like what you see. Yes, I am telling you to log into something that will probably scar your eyes and mind, much like two girls one cup, it‘s disgusting, but it's a must see even for two minutes. Keep this in mind when you navigate towards it. I have been on it a lot in the last few days, honest research in which I kept my clothes on, during this research I noticed that the majority of people on this site are men… Not only that, but at any point in the day, morning, noon or night, there are lots and lots of guys wanking. This is a problem. Much like when a porno spends too much time lingering in that most grotesque angle that I like to call ‘ball cam’ in which you see the mans ass, the ladies thighs and nothing else because the guys dangling, shaved bollocks are slapping away on her vagina, making that amusing cupped hand clapping noise… It is kind of like that when you are on this site, you don’t want to look at a guy wanking so you just skip past that guy and hope that karma will help you out, but it never does because karma doesn’t exist on this site… Relentless wanking exists on this site.
Much like people who complain about things they have seen on TV, people like to complain about content online. The media shouldn’t humour these people, they shouldn’t write articles talking about how dangerous it is because some horrid, rich, daily mail reading, SUV driving asshole is more interested in drinking wine and fucking the help than actually parenting. Bad parenting leads to bad shit happening to children… Sure the pervert jacking off furiously, live on cam right in your child’s face via computer screen, should take some blame… But if the child accesses a site like this on a home computer, then it is mainly the fault of the parents. Why shouldn’t creepy websites like this exist? Websites like www.parentdish.com are convinced that they shouldn’t because in their research they saw some guys jacking it, and one guy take credit for 9000 rapes, and maybe that hanging dude actually hanged himself for real blah blah. The writer on parentdish.com whose name isn’t important claims that although it states it is illegal for anyone under 16 to access this site, it is set up in such a way that a 5 year old could work it out. If your 5 year old is internet savvy, it is because you have allowed it to become internet savvy and thus if it gets the come on from some old naked fella then you should really be ashamed of yourself, you are a terrible parent.
In conclusion, if you are worried about your child accessing a site designed for adults, much in the same way as it is with movies or video games, you should really try parenting a bit better and not letting your child play, watch or log into something that they only want to because everyone at school is going on about it... Remember, you are allowed to say no to your children… Even if you are too busy drinking wine, or moaning about immigrants to keep an eye on your child’s internet habits all the time, there are plenty of packages you can buy to block websites that may seem a little adult for your special little miracle. Buy them and stop bitching about things that only bother you if you highlight the address bar and type in www.chatroulette.com and wait for it to load, that seems like a whole lot of effort when you now know that you will most likely be bombarded with a barrage of perverts battering away on their dick like the world was about to end and they could save it with a healthy amount of jism.
The internet is indeed awash with perverts of all types, as is the real world, with that in mind if you are a parent and you think the two worlds are different then whatever happens to your special little child is completely your fault… Not the site they were on, not the concept of social networking and definitely not the Internet as a whole. I’m not endorsing perverts searching for young children, obviously because that would be pretty fucked up, but all I am saying is that if you let your child post pictures of themselves on social networking sites, then don’t be surprised or angry at the internet when some old perv expresses an interest… If you do, you might as well let your child stick pictures and personal details in a phone box right next to the cheap hookers.
The latest of the social networking sites to pop up and come under attack from idiots is Chatroulette.com, which has to be seen to be believed. Just don’t come crying to me when you don’t like what you see. Yes, I am telling you to log into something that will probably scar your eyes and mind, much like two girls one cup, it‘s disgusting, but it's a must see even for two minutes. Keep this in mind when you navigate towards it. I have been on it a lot in the last few days, honest research in which I kept my clothes on, during this research I noticed that the majority of people on this site are men… Not only that, but at any point in the day, morning, noon or night, there are lots and lots of guys wanking. This is a problem. Much like when a porno spends too much time lingering in that most grotesque angle that I like to call ‘ball cam’ in which you see the mans ass, the ladies thighs and nothing else because the guys dangling, shaved bollocks are slapping away on her vagina, making that amusing cupped hand clapping noise… It is kind of like that when you are on this site, you don’t want to look at a guy wanking so you just skip past that guy and hope that karma will help you out, but it never does because karma doesn’t exist on this site… Relentless wanking exists on this site.
Much like people who complain about things they have seen on TV, people like to complain about content online. The media shouldn’t humour these people, they shouldn’t write articles talking about how dangerous it is because some horrid, rich, daily mail reading, SUV driving asshole is more interested in drinking wine and fucking the help than actually parenting. Bad parenting leads to bad shit happening to children… Sure the pervert jacking off furiously, live on cam right in your child’s face via computer screen, should take some blame… But if the child accesses a site like this on a home computer, then it is mainly the fault of the parents. Why shouldn’t creepy websites like this exist? Websites like www.parentdish.com are convinced that they shouldn’t because in their research they saw some guys jacking it, and one guy take credit for 9000 rapes, and maybe that hanging dude actually hanged himself for real blah blah. The writer on parentdish.com whose name isn’t important claims that although it states it is illegal for anyone under 16 to access this site, it is set up in such a way that a 5 year old could work it out. If your 5 year old is internet savvy, it is because you have allowed it to become internet savvy and thus if it gets the come on from some old naked fella then you should really be ashamed of yourself, you are a terrible parent.
In conclusion, if you are worried about your child accessing a site designed for adults, much in the same way as it is with movies or video games, you should really try parenting a bit better and not letting your child play, watch or log into something that they only want to because everyone at school is going on about it... Remember, you are allowed to say no to your children… Even if you are too busy drinking wine, or moaning about immigrants to keep an eye on your child’s internet habits all the time, there are plenty of packages you can buy to block websites that may seem a little adult for your special little miracle. Buy them and stop bitching about things that only bother you if you highlight the address bar and type in www.chatroulette.com and wait for it to load, that seems like a whole lot of effort when you now know that you will most likely be bombarded with a barrage of perverts battering away on their dick like the world was about to end and they could save it with a healthy amount of jism.
Wednesday, 10 February 2010
The Evolution of Celebrity.
The strange thing about this is, I started writing an article for World News Vine today about the awkward, strange looking weirdo, our Foreign Secretary David Milliband… How I ended up here I have no idea, but between watching music TV and Modern Warfare 2 breaks, this is what happened.
Years ago you had to be genuinely talented to be famous… Now all it takes is stepping out a car with no pants on, and the media is debating who has the best looking vagina, and asking questions of the sanity of someone who would do such a thing, but never a criticism of the scumbag lying on the road pointing his camera up the skirt of anyone passing… Sleeping with a famous person can now make you more famous than the person you slept with, and god forbid you have a child with a famous person… That child will be paraded in magazines, and trailed about town… Today’s celebrity child is the tiny dog of 5 years ago, only we will be forced to watch these ones grow because they can’t drown a child when they get bored with it, like Paris did with Tinkerbell.
We have become so obsessed with celebrity that we look to them in times of tragedy and despair, only this week we have been subjected to more selfless celebs lending their vocals to a rehash of ‘everybody hurts’ by REM… In aid of the people of Haiti… Fear not Haitians, your house is gone, your family is dead, you are all alone… But at least Susan Boyle is singing a really badly chosen song for you… And it’s not only SUBO, but all the other halfwits who signed their soul over to the Dark Prince Simon Cowell, a man who would probably cause a tragedy just so he could release a record full of his recording artists, in tribute. I don’t mean to sound overly cynical, but there is no other way to look at this… Like Bob Geldof before him, I’d say that although there is some altruism involved, these people do projects like this to get their name involved… Thankfully, so far, I have yet to hear the song or see the video, but I can imagine what it will be like.
That aside, these days the British public debate celebrity like it has any importance in the bigger picture, tabloids fuel this with things like ‘Text Maniacs’ in the Daily Star. This is where you can get an idea of just how bad things have become, these people are indeed maniacs, and if most of them had their way Britain would be rid of the immigrants, and Jeremy Clarkson would be PM… Don’t get me wrong, I sometimes enjoy ‘Top Gear’, of which Clarkson is the presenter, but to suggest that such a small minded, xenophobic imbecile should run the country only shows how small minded and xenophobic you really are… Imbecile.
There are too many people in Britain who hate immigrants, which is a problem for me because my family sought refuge in the UK after WW2... And anyway, these people don’t seem to mind immigrants when they are cheering on their favourite footy team, which has more immigrants than they are usually comfortable around. Like they have no problem spending food money on a football strip adorned with some foreigners name, that they wear with jeans, tucked in… . I would gladly swap all these people, anyone who hates immigrants, or love celebs to the point of suggesting they run our country, with the indigenous people of some undiscovered island, who can’t speak the language, have never even seen a white guy, or heard of clothes, or sky TV, or toilet paper, or jewellery, or Jordan and Peter, or Simon Cowell, or Britney’s vagina, or breast implants, or sports… People whose idea of fast food is a really tasty looking wild cat, or an endangered bird of some sort that PETA would give their lives for, maybe an experiment like that would show us just how ridiculous we have become, ironically it would make a great reality TV show, maybe it would point out the exact moment we decided that some horrid, talent less, big breasted, ugly slut and her spoilt, ugly ass children became a bigger, more important news item than the thousands of people killed in our name in the last 8 years, or the millions of Brits who live in poverty and on the streets.
Where are the “special collectors editions” of magazines like “OK” or “Heat” for the people who have died defending the country that you so vehemently claim as yours and yours only… That’s right, those collectors editions are reserved for the dead celebrities, some talented, some untalented and some downright disgusting, racist and ignorant people like Jade Goody.
Years ago you had to be genuinely talented to be famous… Now all it takes is stepping out a car with no pants on, and the media is debating who has the best looking vagina, and asking questions of the sanity of someone who would do such a thing, but never a criticism of the scumbag lying on the road pointing his camera up the skirt of anyone passing… Sleeping with a famous person can now make you more famous than the person you slept with, and god forbid you have a child with a famous person… That child will be paraded in magazines, and trailed about town… Today’s celebrity child is the tiny dog of 5 years ago, only we will be forced to watch these ones grow because they can’t drown a child when they get bored with it, like Paris did with Tinkerbell.
We have become so obsessed with celebrity that we look to them in times of tragedy and despair, only this week we have been subjected to more selfless celebs lending their vocals to a rehash of ‘everybody hurts’ by REM… In aid of the people of Haiti… Fear not Haitians, your house is gone, your family is dead, you are all alone… But at least Susan Boyle is singing a really badly chosen song for you… And it’s not only SUBO, but all the other halfwits who signed their soul over to the Dark Prince Simon Cowell, a man who would probably cause a tragedy just so he could release a record full of his recording artists, in tribute. I don’t mean to sound overly cynical, but there is no other way to look at this… Like Bob Geldof before him, I’d say that although there is some altruism involved, these people do projects like this to get their name involved… Thankfully, so far, I have yet to hear the song or see the video, but I can imagine what it will be like.
That aside, these days the British public debate celebrity like it has any importance in the bigger picture, tabloids fuel this with things like ‘Text Maniacs’ in the Daily Star. This is where you can get an idea of just how bad things have become, these people are indeed maniacs, and if most of them had their way Britain would be rid of the immigrants, and Jeremy Clarkson would be PM… Don’t get me wrong, I sometimes enjoy ‘Top Gear’, of which Clarkson is the presenter, but to suggest that such a small minded, xenophobic imbecile should run the country only shows how small minded and xenophobic you really are… Imbecile.
There are too many people in Britain who hate immigrants, which is a problem for me because my family sought refuge in the UK after WW2... And anyway, these people don’t seem to mind immigrants when they are cheering on their favourite footy team, which has more immigrants than they are usually comfortable around. Like they have no problem spending food money on a football strip adorned with some foreigners name, that they wear with jeans, tucked in… . I would gladly swap all these people, anyone who hates immigrants, or love celebs to the point of suggesting they run our country, with the indigenous people of some undiscovered island, who can’t speak the language, have never even seen a white guy, or heard of clothes, or sky TV, or toilet paper, or jewellery, or Jordan and Peter, or Simon Cowell, or Britney’s vagina, or breast implants, or sports… People whose idea of fast food is a really tasty looking wild cat, or an endangered bird of some sort that PETA would give their lives for, maybe an experiment like that would show us just how ridiculous we have become, ironically it would make a great reality TV show, maybe it would point out the exact moment we decided that some horrid, talent less, big breasted, ugly slut and her spoilt, ugly ass children became a bigger, more important news item than the thousands of people killed in our name in the last 8 years, or the millions of Brits who live in poverty and on the streets.
Where are the “special collectors editions” of magazines like “OK” or “Heat” for the people who have died defending the country that you so vehemently claim as yours and yours only… That’s right, those collectors editions are reserved for the dead celebrities, some talented, some untalented and some downright disgusting, racist and ignorant people like Jade Goody.
Friday, 4 December 2009
Space cakes didn't help.
Excuse me while I blow the dust off of this place, I just realised how much I have neglected it in favour of the excellent WorldNewsVine.net, where I post a blog on politics and world news.
I just returned from a week long tour with the always awesome Sucioperro, and decided to let you in on the fun... Although I only got back yesterday evening, and I am still recovering from the amount of craziness we got into... I find myself at work, where I should have been finished about 30 minutes ago, but some big table of adults and their annoyingly loud kids, which is made worse by the fact the the parents don't seem to care about them running around a cafe that serves hot food and hot drinks... So far no accidents, but the night is young.
Anyway, putting aside my hatred of noisey children, the tour was great... It was also my first since the summer as I had kind of given up the ghost, I had lost whatever you need to deal with the day to day boredom, politics and general bullshit you have to put up with from people in the many venues around the country. I decided to figure it out on the road, a sort of therapy, and with the exception of being put in a room that tested me to the limit of what I can mentally handle in regard to my mild case of germaphobia, I dealt pretty well with the whole thing...
It obviously helps when you love the band (and it's members) you tour with, I know many people who went from doing what I do (helping out friends) to working with anybody for money, which is a fate worse than death to me, I tried it and it was not fun... too much like real work, but without the luxury of your own bed every night.
This was a very short tour, supporting an Australian band called 'The Living End', who were real nice fellows, and an English band called 'Failsafe' who were rocking and super nice guys, and it went past really quick, before I knew it I was home and contemplating the hell I am currently in... Working late on a Friday night when I should already be home eating the haggis my housemate Becky has cooked for me... Instead I have to plaster on a fake smile and pretend that I could give a fuck about the people who are keeping me late, having a good dining experience... I honestly couldn't, I just want them fed, watered and fucking gone.
The tour took us to Leeds cockpit, Glasgow G2, Manchester Academy, Birmingham Academy and The Forum in London. The last venue was great, lots of space to store gear while it was not in use... Which was a massive difference to the previous night in Birmingham, where all the spare space seemed to be taken up by cunt stewards and their massive fucking egos... Seriously if you are a steward whats with the attitude? Is that part of the job or is it something you were born with. I don't want to be in Birmingham, I certainly don't want to be near half these stewards, so how about fucking off long enough for me to sell some merch, pack up get in the van have a smoke and leave... Only remembering these places exist when I return. Instead I am rushed out, along with the punters who bought a ticket, and want to buy a CD at the end... Not cool.
Once again I underestimated the size of the headline band, as I hadn't heard of them, and I am not exactly clued up on the Oz music scene... for obvious reasons, but this band were polished and rocking... I wasn't a big fan of the music but they sure put on a show. The venues were pretty big, and there was a fairly serious fanbase... A lot of "punks", who for some reason still all dress the same, completely ignorant to the fact that everyone dressing the same does not individuals make. Whatever. Some of them were cool, some of them were wanks, like the big Ozy with the beard at the Forum, total prick...
Sucio rocked, as usual, they do get more rocking every time I go out with them though... Which has got to be intimidating to other bands, and the current line up is so rocking it makes you wonder why they didn't figure it out sooner.
The road was navigated by a new friend Doug, and his lovely new van, that unlike the last one, didn't smell like a tramp had died in it. Everything went too quick though... It's maybe because I am already back at work, but I realised in my own bed last night that it was the first time in a while that I wasn't glad to be home from tour, rather I wanted to be back out, even if it meant dealing with scenester sound and monitor dicks, or egomaniacal prick stewards... Sometimes you just have to deal with these people in order to try to get to the point where you completely forget they even exist.
Before I sign off, I just want to go on record about something.
Fuck Burger King, their burgers are no where near as good as McDonalds, and they are 3 times the price, they never have any ready in the services and they make you feel shite, it is because of their shit food that the Amsterdam space cake I saved for the road home, ended up just making me feel more shitty.
I have gone off subject something wild, I will no doubt I will give you actual info about the band and tour when/if I remember what the fuck happened.
I just returned from a week long tour with the always awesome Sucioperro, and decided to let you in on the fun... Although I only got back yesterday evening, and I am still recovering from the amount of craziness we got into... I find myself at work, where I should have been finished about 30 minutes ago, but some big table of adults and their annoyingly loud kids, which is made worse by the fact the the parents don't seem to care about them running around a cafe that serves hot food and hot drinks... So far no accidents, but the night is young.
Anyway, putting aside my hatred of noisey children, the tour was great... It was also my first since the summer as I had kind of given up the ghost, I had lost whatever you need to deal with the day to day boredom, politics and general bullshit you have to put up with from people in the many venues around the country. I decided to figure it out on the road, a sort of therapy, and with the exception of being put in a room that tested me to the limit of what I can mentally handle in regard to my mild case of germaphobia, I dealt pretty well with the whole thing...
It obviously helps when you love the band (and it's members) you tour with, I know many people who went from doing what I do (helping out friends) to working with anybody for money, which is a fate worse than death to me, I tried it and it was not fun... too much like real work, but without the luxury of your own bed every night.
This was a very short tour, supporting an Australian band called 'The Living End', who were real nice fellows, and an English band called 'Failsafe' who were rocking and super nice guys, and it went past really quick, before I knew it I was home and contemplating the hell I am currently in... Working late on a Friday night when I should already be home eating the haggis my housemate Becky has cooked for me... Instead I have to plaster on a fake smile and pretend that I could give a fuck about the people who are keeping me late, having a good dining experience... I honestly couldn't, I just want them fed, watered and fucking gone.
The tour took us to Leeds cockpit, Glasgow G2, Manchester Academy, Birmingham Academy and The Forum in London. The last venue was great, lots of space to store gear while it was not in use... Which was a massive difference to the previous night in Birmingham, where all the spare space seemed to be taken up by cunt stewards and their massive fucking egos... Seriously if you are a steward whats with the attitude? Is that part of the job or is it something you were born with. I don't want to be in Birmingham, I certainly don't want to be near half these stewards, so how about fucking off long enough for me to sell some merch, pack up get in the van have a smoke and leave... Only remembering these places exist when I return. Instead I am rushed out, along with the punters who bought a ticket, and want to buy a CD at the end... Not cool.
Once again I underestimated the size of the headline band, as I hadn't heard of them, and I am not exactly clued up on the Oz music scene... for obvious reasons, but this band were polished and rocking... I wasn't a big fan of the music but they sure put on a show. The venues were pretty big, and there was a fairly serious fanbase... A lot of "punks", who for some reason still all dress the same, completely ignorant to the fact that everyone dressing the same does not individuals make. Whatever. Some of them were cool, some of them were wanks, like the big Ozy with the beard at the Forum, total prick...
Sucio rocked, as usual, they do get more rocking every time I go out with them though... Which has got to be intimidating to other bands, and the current line up is so rocking it makes you wonder why they didn't figure it out sooner.
The road was navigated by a new friend Doug, and his lovely new van, that unlike the last one, didn't smell like a tramp had died in it. Everything went too quick though... It's maybe because I am already back at work, but I realised in my own bed last night that it was the first time in a while that I wasn't glad to be home from tour, rather I wanted to be back out, even if it meant dealing with scenester sound and monitor dicks, or egomaniacal prick stewards... Sometimes you just have to deal with these people in order to try to get to the point where you completely forget they even exist.
Before I sign off, I just want to go on record about something.
Fuck Burger King, their burgers are no where near as good as McDonalds, and they are 3 times the price, they never have any ready in the services and they make you feel shite, it is because of their shit food that the Amsterdam space cake I saved for the road home, ended up just making me feel more shitty.
I have gone off subject something wild, I will no doubt I will give you actual info about the band and tour when/if I remember what the fuck happened.
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