Saturday, 27 December 2008
3 way pub toilet graffiti conversation
"Ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"
"No but I've been fucked by him many times & sucked his cock."
"No but I've been fucked by him many times & sucked his cock."
"Gay"
Tuesday, 16 December 2008
The Obama Rap
My first name's Barack and I'm black
Bush is whack, gave him a heart attack
My middle name's Hussein but don't go insane
This credit crunch is lame, I beat John McCain and realizing my strategic plan of restoring the U.S. through steady economic growth and the desire for the phased redeployment of troops from Iraq are some of my aims, yo
My surname's Obama, don't call me no llama
If you break my laws you're going in the slammer
I won't torture you in Guantanamo with a hammer but you might experience water boarding instead of a nice flan, yeah
Chorus
Born August 4th, 1961 and I'm tons of fun
and I dress to a tee
I don't care for guns, I got healthy lungs
and I was born in Hawaii (say what) x2
Let's break up the war and help out the poor. World listen up I'm fresh, here comes the breakdown:
Bush! Just shush
McCain! Got no game
Darfur! Find a cure
Iraq! Get on track
I'm Barack Obama and this is my rhyme
My term of office as the 44th U.S. President begins on January 20th, 2009
My Vice President is Joe Biden
Unlike Saddam we won't be hidin' (hell no)
Hearts and minds, or shock and awe?
Trying times between the rich and the po' (fo' sho')
I like smiling but I don't like AIDs
Better be believin' my assigned Secret Service codename is "Renegade"
Peace
Bush is whack, gave him a heart attack
My middle name's Hussein but don't go insane
This credit crunch is lame, I beat John McCain and realizing my strategic plan of restoring the U.S. through steady economic growth and the desire for the phased redeployment of troops from Iraq are some of my aims, yo
My surname's Obama, don't call me no llama
If you break my laws you're going in the slammer
I won't torture you in Guantanamo with a hammer but you might experience water boarding instead of a nice flan, yeah
Chorus
Born August 4th, 1961 and I'm tons of fun
and I dress to a tee
I don't care for guns, I got healthy lungs
and I was born in Hawaii (say what) x2
Let's break up the war and help out the poor. World listen up I'm fresh, here comes the breakdown:
Bush! Just shush
McCain! Got no game
Darfur! Find a cure
Iraq! Get on track
I'm Barack Obama and this is my rhyme
My term of office as the 44th U.S. President begins on January 20th, 2009
My Vice President is Joe Biden
Unlike Saddam we won't be hidin' (hell no)
Hearts and minds, or shock and awe?
Trying times between the rich and the po' (fo' sho')
I like smiling but I don't like AIDs
Better be believin' my assigned Secret Service codename is "Renegade"
Peace
Monday, 15 December 2008
Hitler Biker
To be sung to the tune of Barry Manilow's "Copacabana":
His name was Hitler, he was a biker
With a small 'tasche on his lip, and a pistol on his hip
He didn't like Jews, he gave them the blues
He jumped his bike off ramps, and put Jews in some camps
He ruled in Germany, and was really angry
He was a Nazi, not a nice Postie
Biker Hitler, oh biker Hitler
Loved riding his hog to the Reich, yeah
Biker Hitler, oh biker Hitler
Eva won't leave ya, and Goering is boring
At the gestapo, he did a wheelie
His name was Hitler, he was a biker
With a small 'tasche on his lip, and a pistol on his hip
He didn't like Jews, he gave them the blues
He jumped his bike off ramps, and put Jews in some camps
He ruled in Germany, and was really angry
He was a Nazi, not a nice Postie
Biker Hitler, oh biker Hitler
Loved riding his hog to the Reich, yeah
Biker Hitler, oh biker Hitler
Eva won't leave ya, and Goering is boring
At the gestapo, he did a wheelie
Saturday, 22 November 2008
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Hideous Strange Painting
I saw this painting in the hall of a mildly terrifying house a friend of mine is currently renting a room in.
I’m not Alan Yentob, granted, but what I see in this frightening work is a young boy sucking an adult woman’s belly button with Peel Castle in the background.
Part of me hopes that she has hidden a gobstopper there so the little tinker (read: future sex offender) doesn’t scoff it too quickly and choke to death, and instead has to savour it through the weave of her dress. Although, look at her. She’d probably write a folk song about that. She looks like Enya gone evil.
Perhaps the most disturbing thing is the marked erotic undertone. That young boy looks like he’s trying to suck the bend out of a river. He’s loving it. The increasingly villainous woman looks like she’s doing the best she can to reenact her favourite Mills and Boon sauce scene in lieu of A) an adult male B) appropriate lube or C) any clue as to how this will decimate simple island folk’s conventional raunch taboos. She’s either got him so twisted on crack that he loves the taste of lady lint, or he’s autistic and a mouthful of dress and navel in a sea breeze next to a castle is the only thing that calms him down. Tony Heart must be rolling in his grave.
I’m not Alan Yentob, granted, but what I see in this frightening work is a young boy sucking an adult woman’s belly button with Peel Castle in the background.
Part of me hopes that she has hidden a gobstopper there so the little tinker (read: future sex offender) doesn’t scoff it too quickly and choke to death, and instead has to savour it through the weave of her dress. Although, look at her. She’d probably write a folk song about that. She looks like Enya gone evil.
Perhaps the most disturbing thing is the marked erotic undertone. That young boy looks like he’s trying to suck the bend out of a river. He’s loving it. The increasingly villainous woman looks like she’s doing the best she can to reenact her favourite Mills and Boon sauce scene in lieu of A) an adult male B) appropriate lube or C) any clue as to how this will decimate simple island folk’s conventional raunch taboos. She’s either got him so twisted on crack that he loves the taste of lady lint, or he’s autistic and a mouthful of dress and navel in a sea breeze next to a castle is the only thing that calms him down. Tony Heart must be rolling in his grave.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
An Open Letter To Someone
Ref: SOS/121108/TW
To whom it may concern
Are the many flaws you see in other people merely reflections of that which you hate about yourself? Do you self correct these traits so much that gradually you get to the other side of the spectrum and end up being irritating in the opposite way? For example if some chump speaks so slowly that you can actually feel the tumour start growing on your brain by the time they’ve finished a sentence, that you in turn speak faster than a cheetah being fired from a cannon mounted on Lewis Hamilton’s front spoiler at Monaco? So, if you hate strangers and friends alike do you essentially detest yourself, but are too caught up in self preservation and pasta sauce and sitcoms to do anything about it?
Keep up the good work with ladies boobs, chips ‘n dips and zombies.
Yours faithfully
Tony Toofast
To whom it may concern
Are the many flaws you see in other people merely reflections of that which you hate about yourself? Do you self correct these traits so much that gradually you get to the other side of the spectrum and end up being irritating in the opposite way? For example if some chump speaks so slowly that you can actually feel the tumour start growing on your brain by the time they’ve finished a sentence, that you in turn speak faster than a cheetah being fired from a cannon mounted on Lewis Hamilton’s front spoiler at Monaco? So, if you hate strangers and friends alike do you essentially detest yourself, but are too caught up in self preservation and pasta sauce and sitcoms to do anything about it?
Keep up the good work with ladies boobs, chips ‘n dips and zombies.
Yours faithfully
Tony Toofast
Tuesday, 28 October 2008
Deal Or No Doom!
Am I hallucinating? Is this fever induced dementia? Madness caused by illness? I'm off work sick and the only thing I can deal (snigger) with is afternoon TV. Deal Or No Deal is on channel 4 and it's been overrun by monsters and the undead! It looks like the cast of Thriller, but more evil and less funky. Noel Edmonds is Lucifer, resplendent in horns, a died black goatee and a solitary Mr T-esque earring. This means he looks even more sinister than usual. The contestants are all bloodied up, bedraggled zombies, one with a tire track mark accross his face. The whooping, squealing undead player is called Gaynor. She looks not unlike the victim of sex crime.
Before opening her box, Andrea, a zombie with one silver glove, forlornly utters "This is the hardest thing I've ever done." (Probably due to the loss of motor skills following rapid necrosis). £250,000 was in her spider covered box. It's accompanied by the groan of the asembled ghoul throng and an 80's sound effect of a banshee wailing.
The mysterious Banker (dressed as a violent spiv, I imagine) calls and says there's a spooky new choice for Gaynor to make. Choose the coffin or the gravestone. One is a trick, one is a treat. She picks the treat which cues Thriller to be played but sadly no expected dancing. The treat is a holiday to Madrid, a favourite destination of those who feast on human brains I'm sure you'll agree. I wonder what the trick was. A harsh reach around from Edmonds, perhaps?
50p, £10 and £100,000 remain. Tony with his bandaged head reveals the £100K. Gaynor laughs, her brain little more than a box of sloshing goo now. At least she got that holiday. She could infect the conquistadors. Unlike them, she wouldn't require Small Pox doused blankets.
This macabre twist on the show isn't even mentioned on Teletext. I feel dirty and diabolical. I hope this fiendish experience was real.
Before opening her box, Andrea, a zombie with one silver glove, forlornly utters "This is the hardest thing I've ever done." (Probably due to the loss of motor skills following rapid necrosis). £250,000 was in her spider covered box. It's accompanied by the groan of the asembled ghoul throng and an 80's sound effect of a banshee wailing.
The mysterious Banker (dressed as a violent spiv, I imagine) calls and says there's a spooky new choice for Gaynor to make. Choose the coffin or the gravestone. One is a trick, one is a treat. She picks the treat which cues Thriller to be played but sadly no expected dancing. The treat is a holiday to Madrid, a favourite destination of those who feast on human brains I'm sure you'll agree. I wonder what the trick was. A harsh reach around from Edmonds, perhaps?
50p, £10 and £100,000 remain. Tony with his bandaged head reveals the £100K. Gaynor laughs, her brain little more than a box of sloshing goo now. At least she got that holiday. She could infect the conquistadors. Unlike them, she wouldn't require Small Pox doused blankets.
This macabre twist on the show isn't even mentioned on Teletext. I feel dirty and diabolical. I hope this fiendish experience was real.
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Friday, 24 October 2008
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Bald Guyz Refreshing Head Wipes
Ladies and gentlemen, get a load of this in your ears (eyes). There I was in Boots the Chemist buying matte texture shaping putty gel or anti suicide pills or nail scissors, and BOOM Bald Guyz Refreshing Head Wipes sexes my world up. Yes. It's a sanitary product for slapheads.
If I'm unfortunate to live long enough to experience my own chrome dome (currently my mane is as full and luxurious as a swarthy fighter pilot breakdancing lion) I can at least enjoy these fine science facts:
- Light New Fragrance!
- Cleans & Moisturises
- Cools as it Dries
- Soft & Gentle
Brilliantly, the whole spectrum of man is represented - both happy, brace wearing baldies and dour, serious businessmen. I don't know why they exclude bald women. Could market them as Bald Girlz. Maybe Bald Grrllz. No, that one's too shit.
Fiendish Feet!
Remember Fiendish Feet? They were only the best, most toe curlingly terrifying novelty comedy horror yoghurts man has ever known. They had beastly feet and monstrous spook faces and almost *certainly gave children rabies or sex dementia. *This is definitely not correct.
Clearly the eeriest of snacks, they kick the shit out of Munch Bunch, especially Corky Coconut.
Banana flavour Howling Wolf was the daddy, mostly because of his 80's shades. They faithfully represented almost the entire pantheon of ghouls, from Vampire to Mummy to Evil Scientist (even a special Easter themed bunny that looked twisted on crack) but they never had a dedicated zombie or rapist character. Do-gooding sell out bastards.
So where are they now? Probably bought up wholesale by shadowy government types to be fed exclusively to lunatics and satanists.
Thursday, 9 October 2008
Celebrity Zombie Apocalypse!
“Stop it, zombie Mozart!” screamed Mr T in vein as he tried to stop MacGuyver having his face chewed off by an undead postman.
“Oh no! It’s zombie Gary Glitter and he’s headed straight for that primary school! Possibly.” Uttered Professor Richard Dawkins with incredulity, due to Glitter perhaps being religious.
“Suck on these slick shoes, you filthy ravenous beasts!” was the proud call of Data from The Goonies. He saw Sloth eat his own mother that morning and that ruined his chances of going steady with the ginger one from Girls Aloud.
All Simon Cowell’s reanimated corpse could gurgle was “Atrocious”. This really got to Rolf Harris. His wobble board was doing fuck all against the zombie hordes but he could paint up the lady cadavers real pretty. This fired up Emilio Estevez and the cast of Lost Boys so much that they decapitated The Kooks. They weren’t even zombies, just twats.
Somewhere dark, and cock snappingly evil something terrible happened. Zombie Jessica Fletcher had turned Indiana Jones, Mad Max and David Attenborough within the hour. Now Nazis, British criminals and exotic rare animals the world over were rising from the grave, hungry for camel toes and the flesh of the living!
Hooked on this thrilling suspense filled world class tale of terror? Rich executive Hollywood types get in touch now for more. Adventures will be considered in lieu of cash payment.
“Oh no! It’s zombie Gary Glitter and he’s headed straight for that primary school! Possibly.” Uttered Professor Richard Dawkins with incredulity, due to Glitter perhaps being religious.
“Suck on these slick shoes, you filthy ravenous beasts!” was the proud call of Data from The Goonies. He saw Sloth eat his own mother that morning and that ruined his chances of going steady with the ginger one from Girls Aloud.
All Simon Cowell’s reanimated corpse could gurgle was “Atrocious”. This really got to Rolf Harris. His wobble board was doing fuck all against the zombie hordes but he could paint up the lady cadavers real pretty. This fired up Emilio Estevez and the cast of Lost Boys so much that they decapitated The Kooks. They weren’t even zombies, just twats.
Somewhere dark, and cock snappingly evil something terrible happened. Zombie Jessica Fletcher had turned Indiana Jones, Mad Max and David Attenborough within the hour. Now Nazis, British criminals and exotic rare animals the world over were rising from the grave, hungry for camel toes and the flesh of the living!
Hooked on this thrilling suspense filled world class tale of terror? Rich executive Hollywood types get in touch now for more. Adventures will be considered in lieu of cash payment.
Tuesday, 16 September 2008
My Mildly Ridiculous Biking Misadventure
I went out motorbikin' on my sweet hog tonight. It descended from shits and giggles into mild farce. Getting slightly lost on my home turf of the Isle of Man is usually reason enough for ridicule given it's only 33 miles long. However, I like to pass expectations because I'm swarthy and inept.
So there I am cruising around Snaefell mountain at a proud and erect 2036 feet (yes, I'm so masculine I didn't even pass out at this impressive altitude) when I read the casual road warning "PATCHES OF FOG" and faintly notice a nondescript 4x4 start tailing sexpestily close to my rear wheel.
Boom! Fog assails me like a toxic death gas. Moist! Condensation inside my helmet (teehee) and mist juice on the outside of it. Blush! My miniscule knowledge of this epic mountain road and my embarrassing Learner rider status equals a decidedly unsexy average speed of 30mph.
It's cold, dark, and misty as a '70's British horror movie. There's nowhere to pull over or turnaround. I want to stab the vehicle that's trying to bum me. I can barely see the L plate on my front mud gard. Even a bastard rabbit tries to kill itself under my tyres. Not even Jean-Claude Van Damme could handle this shit.
The mist finally lifts and my tailgater finally turns off, probably to shit on a baby. I reach a deadend town called Ramsey. I refuse to stop, turnaround or ask for help. I'd likely be raped in this place and I'm a gentleman, damnit. I power through. Another town, this one called Andreas. Another one, Bride, then back to Ramsey like a sick carousel filled with perverts and sex cake.
At last, I find the coast road and can make my return home. A double dose of the dreaded mountain run would drive a man mad enough to eat his knees. Familiar territory but it's blacker than hell, lights not yet in this undeveloped elbow of Earth. It's colder than fear and the dreaded mist of doom falls again once I hit Lonan. I become reckless. The mix of headlights from oncoming traffic, terminally ill cats eyes, and my fog lights being gobbled up by this barbaric weather mean I'm blind and fatigued but I won't give up. I man up. I ease through Laxey, the mist clears slightly, I gain confidence. Baldrine, I'm in familiar territory. Suffice to say, my balls are aching at this point. Onchan, home stretch, please don't be a mirage or a stress induced mental episode. Finally Douglas, civilisation. Hundreds (40ish) of miles of tortured introspection later, I'm a shell shocked, deranged skeleton.
I think I love you, really quite tame riding conditions.
So there I am cruising around Snaefell mountain at a proud and erect 2036 feet (yes, I'm so masculine I didn't even pass out at this impressive altitude) when I read the casual road warning "PATCHES OF FOG" and faintly notice a nondescript 4x4 start tailing sexpestily close to my rear wheel.
Boom! Fog assails me like a toxic death gas. Moist! Condensation inside my helmet (teehee) and mist juice on the outside of it. Blush! My miniscule knowledge of this epic mountain road and my embarrassing Learner rider status equals a decidedly unsexy average speed of 30mph.
It's cold, dark, and misty as a '70's British horror movie. There's nowhere to pull over or turnaround. I want to stab the vehicle that's trying to bum me. I can barely see the L plate on my front mud gard. Even a bastard rabbit tries to kill itself under my tyres. Not even Jean-Claude Van Damme could handle this shit.
The mist finally lifts and my tailgater finally turns off, probably to shit on a baby. I reach a deadend town called Ramsey. I refuse to stop, turnaround or ask for help. I'd likely be raped in this place and I'm a gentleman, damnit. I power through. Another town, this one called Andreas. Another one, Bride, then back to Ramsey like a sick carousel filled with perverts and sex cake.
At last, I find the coast road and can make my return home. A double dose of the dreaded mountain run would drive a man mad enough to eat his knees. Familiar territory but it's blacker than hell, lights not yet in this undeveloped elbow of Earth. It's colder than fear and the dreaded mist of doom falls again once I hit Lonan. I become reckless. The mix of headlights from oncoming traffic, terminally ill cats eyes, and my fog lights being gobbled up by this barbaric weather mean I'm blind and fatigued but I won't give up. I man up. I ease through Laxey, the mist clears slightly, I gain confidence. Baldrine, I'm in familiar territory. Suffice to say, my balls are aching at this point. Onchan, home stretch, please don't be a mirage or a stress induced mental episode. Finally Douglas, civilisation. Hundreds (40ish) of miles of tortured introspection later, I'm a shell shocked, deranged skeleton.
I think I love you, really quite tame riding conditions.
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Sexy and Fearsome
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to raunch!
Are they legend or are they fantasy?
Is that terror or desire you feel in your pants?
Ultra violent busty lust vixens hell bent on getting their kicks and filling their boots.
These diabolical sex sheiks will leave you feeling sexy and used and dead.
Their hearts are as cold as their genitals are hot... and that's smokin' hot!
Cunning and wicked in equal measure, these rampaging ex-strippers are on a wild deathwish - destination Lustydangerville!
Catfights and murders, beatings and 3 ways. Can you keep up with the awesome deuxsome?
Stacy Von Tittfield and Mandy Sexington are... Sexy and Fearsome!
Are they legend or are they fantasy?
Is that terror or desire you feel in your pants?
Ultra violent busty lust vixens hell bent on getting their kicks and filling their boots.
These diabolical sex sheiks will leave you feeling sexy and used and dead.
Their hearts are as cold as their genitals are hot... and that's smokin' hot!
Cunning and wicked in equal measure, these rampaging ex-strippers are on a wild deathwish - destination Lustydangerville!
Catfights and murders, beatings and 3 ways. Can you keep up with the awesome deuxsome?
Stacy Von Tittfield and Mandy Sexington are... Sexy and Fearsome!
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Revenge of The Sex Viper!
Foxy "The Sex Viper" Chestwell travels the land wreaking terrible havoc on the Earth's most awful blight - Man!
With tactics as wily as her hips, she raunch-batters her foes into a vegetative state, happy only when tasting their tears! She's sexy vengeance on legs! She'll seduce you and break you in full coloured blood curdling fear!
See! Her dupe her prey with her spectacular boobage!
Hear! Her victims cry out in lust then terror!
Wince! When you see her bloody japs eye-centric torture!
"Ban this entertaining and sexy, yet terribly provocative sordid mess!" - The Vatican
"It made me sick on my tree surgeon!" - N Mandella
With tactics as wily as her hips, she raunch-batters her foes into a vegetative state, happy only when tasting their tears! She's sexy vengeance on legs! She'll seduce you and break you in full coloured blood curdling fear!
See! Her dupe her prey with her spectacular boobage!
Hear! Her victims cry out in lust then terror!
Wince! When you see her bloody japs eye-centric torture!
"Ban this entertaining and sexy, yet terribly provocative sordid mess!" - The Vatican
"It made me sick on my tree surgeon!" - N Mandella
Friday, 15 August 2008
Vernon Schwarzenegger - Get to da Choppaaaaa!!!
Vernon "I'm Northern, me" Kay has been playing some amusing sound bites from classic Arnold Schwarzenegger movies on his Radio 1 show recently. Inspired by this, I emailed him to suggest a game that listeners could play with Thrash Metal/Crossover band Austrian Death Machine. They play amazing face crushing thrash inspired by timeless Arnie movies, complete with cherry picked soundbites from The Governator himself.
Songs include: "Who is Your Daddy and What Does He Do?" (Kindergarten Cop), "Screw You (Benny)" (Total Recall) and "I Am a Cybernetic Organism Living Tissue Over (Metal) Endoskeleton" (Twins). The whole mighty spectrum of his career is celebrated. "Oor" Vernon could play a tune and get listeners to phone/text in to guess the movie it's from. Prizes include the Governor of California singing "Yakety Yak Don't Talk Back" on a horse, a luxury panpipe and some good old fashioned fisting.
Wish me luck.
Wednesday, 13 August 2008
Converge @ Camden Underworld 18/07/08
Saw the mighty Converge. God damn electric and thoroughly face crushing! The drummer is absolutely inhumanly talented.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
Blood Curdling Hell Death From The Beyond!
Ideas for 50's/60's style horror flicks:
Zombies Made My Bed!
Attack of the Poncey Haircuts/Rise of the Matte Texture Fibre Putty
Nonce Town - Population You!
Raunch Fear - Destruction of a Stiffy
The Douchening
The Man Who Ate His Own Scrote
Eye Mangling Squirm Hags From Mars
Telekinetic Chow Down
Lust Crazed FemBots - Sexytime Does Not Compute
Stephen Hawking In The Belly Of Bin Laden
Blood Crazed Camel Toes
Neo Zomboid Ultra Smut
Moustache! Moustache! Moustache!
Rotten Zombie Pesto Facials
Rampage of the Dutch Panther Vixens
Atomic Robo Melons - The Ripening
Superman - The Strangling Rapist Years
Toothy Foreskins Hungry For Vaaj
Shotgun Strippers On Hell Heat
Zombies Made My Bed!
Attack of the Poncey Haircuts/Rise of the Matte Texture Fibre Putty
Nonce Town - Population You!
Raunch Fear - Destruction of a Stiffy
The Douchening
The Man Who Ate His Own Scrote
Eye Mangling Squirm Hags From Mars
Telekinetic Chow Down
Lust Crazed FemBots - Sexytime Does Not Compute
Stephen Hawking In The Belly Of Bin Laden
Blood Crazed Camel Toes
Neo Zomboid Ultra Smut
Moustache! Moustache! Moustache!
Rotten Zombie Pesto Facials
Rampage of the Dutch Panther Vixens
Atomic Robo Melons - The Ripening
Superman - The Strangling Rapist Years
Toothy Foreskins Hungry For Vaaj
Shotgun Strippers On Hell Heat
Monday, 23 June 2008
Sunday, 22 June 2008
Vomit! Sick! Barf!
Big Brother on friday night. I witnessed a ultra tanned stout wise guy and a robotic lady of indiscernible age indulge in the most awkward foreplay man has ever known. It was like watching your parents get jiggy. Imagine your parents pounding away at it. Then them catching you watching and then you all high five each other.
The portly goombah turned the robo dame on by half singing/half humming Total Eclipse of the Heart in a strange high pitched yelp. A bit like a comatose altar boy mid nightmare. After spanking the lovedroid, tons of fun took it to the bed and actually in real life said "I'm just dipping my custard cream into this hot, juicy tea.".
Juicy tea?! Not even Scouse porn would use that line. Then they kissed, both with mouths full of chewed biscuit. Like they were softening food up for each other with added slobbering tongue.
There's one answer to the problem of the self obsessed BB contestant shitbags: Release angry, hungry, horny tigers into the house. Then machine-gunning Nazis. Then Tony Jaa so he can flying knee the douches. Then an Indiana Jones crushing ceiling. Then scorpions. I'd love to see that.
The portly goombah turned the robo dame on by half singing/half humming Total Eclipse of the Heart in a strange high pitched yelp. A bit like a comatose altar boy mid nightmare. After spanking the lovedroid, tons of fun took it to the bed and actually in real life said "I'm just dipping my custard cream into this hot, juicy tea.".
Juicy tea?! Not even Scouse porn would use that line. Then they kissed, both with mouths full of chewed biscuit. Like they were softening food up for each other with added slobbering tongue.
There's one answer to the problem of the self obsessed BB contestant shitbags: Release angry, hungry, horny tigers into the house. Then machine-gunning Nazis. Then Tony Jaa so he can flying knee the douches. Then an Indiana Jones crushing ceiling. Then scorpions. I'd love to see that.
Monday, 16 June 2008
Scream for me Donnington!
I went to Download Festival at Donnington this weekend. KISS rocked so hard, they sexed my face clean off. They descended to the stage from the heavens, breathed fire, flew into the crowd on a rip cord and had more pyro and fireworks than Jesus and Santa put together. Best. Live band. Ever.
Lick it up! Lick it up! Woah-oh-oh! I'm talking right now!
Tuesday, 10 June 2008
Think Andy Peters. Bad guy in The Running Man. Cleaning up futuristic RoboCop style streets.
Found this in the Drafts section of my mobile as a message to myself:-
Idea for new hit TV show: Andy Peters. Street rat terminator (of Chavs, sex pests, the vile and demented, nuisance elderly etc). Zero Tolerance. Ultra violent. Anneka Rice/Crystal Maze style. Head sets. Snazzy jump suit. Edgy/sexy cameo each episode - Prince or Jimmy Saville for pilot? Possible catchphrase: "Andy crush bad man now!". Moral dilemma when Andy suddenly realises that maybe he's being a bad man? Could be season finale cliff hanger.
Idea for new hit TV show: Andy Peters. Street rat terminator (of Chavs, sex pests, the vile and demented, nuisance elderly etc). Zero Tolerance. Ultra violent. Anneka Rice/Crystal Maze style. Head sets. Snazzy jump suit. Edgy/sexy cameo each episode - Prince or Jimmy Saville for pilot? Possible catchphrase: "Andy crush bad man now!". Moral dilemma when Andy suddenly realises that maybe he's being a bad man? Could be season finale cliff hanger.
TT - More Meat Than Man
Ah, the Isle of Man's famous TT Week has just come to an end. Known as the Road Racing Capital of the World. It's two solid weeks of genuinely insanely talented motorcyclists, novelty faux outdoor boozing at Bushy's Beer Tent, and a vastly increased GP baiting intake of red meat (fnar fnar sounds like cock!).
Speaking of which, the Purple Helmets make their much lauded annual appearance. Each year they painstakingly reinact the story of the IOM from it's mystical beginnings, a skill which has been passed down by their bipedal Viking forefathers. The ancient Norse ancestors famously wheelied through rival villages, plundering riches and making aggressive yet sensual sexytime with the pick of the women, in preference of hot adventurous sauce wench down to puss filled boil hag. The revered ceremony climaxes with hand picked volunteers being gently crammed into a sort of Trojan sidecar before being tastefully set ablaze with restored WW2 flamethrowers. They finally drift out of Peel Bay to meet their forebears in Valhalla, otherwise known as the Calf of Man.
This TT I ate a 'Big Boy Hog' at Jeannie's Hog Roast. This consisted of 2 burgers, 2 sausages, 2 bacon rashers and sliced cheese in a bun. It was half the size of a girls head. incidentally, Jeannie was a super flirty MILF that totally wanted to be spit roasted. I'm also attending Download Festival this weekend and am mentally preparing for even more meat and beer.
Speaking of which, the Purple Helmets make their much lauded annual appearance. Each year they painstakingly reinact the story of the IOM from it's mystical beginnings, a skill which has been passed down by their bipedal Viking forefathers. The ancient Norse ancestors famously wheelied through rival villages, plundering riches and making aggressive yet sensual sexytime with the pick of the women, in preference of hot adventurous sauce wench down to puss filled boil hag. The revered ceremony climaxes with hand picked volunteers being gently crammed into a sort of Trojan sidecar before being tastefully set ablaze with restored WW2 flamethrowers. They finally drift out of Peel Bay to meet their forebears in Valhalla, otherwise known as the Calf of Man.
This TT I ate a 'Big Boy Hog' at Jeannie's Hog Roast. This consisted of 2 burgers, 2 sausages, 2 bacon rashers and sliced cheese in a bun. It was half the size of a girls head. incidentally, Jeannie was a super flirty MILF that totally wanted to be spit roasted. I'm also attending Download Festival this weekend and am mentally preparing for even more meat and beer.
Thursday, 22 May 2008
Pyro Hag! Ready!
Please let this Gladiators naming contest be real. Scroll to the bottom, Charlie Brooker is awesome.
My humble suggestions:
Women
Beast Face
The Tank
Fist
Pyro-Hag
Ice Witch
Burka
Bratwurst
Stockport
Lobster
Snooker
Men
Tool
Sir Apes-a-Lot
Sex Pest
Prince
The Raunch
Prison
Stalin
Apartheid
Cattleprod
Bulimia
Better that, honk jobs!
My humble suggestions:
Women
Beast Face
The Tank
Fist
Pyro-Hag
Ice Witch
Burka
Bratwurst
Stockport
Lobster
Snooker
Men
Tool
Sir Apes-a-Lot
Sex Pest
Prince
The Raunch
Prison
Stalin
Apartheid
Cattleprod
Bulimia
Better that, honk jobs!
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
Chapter 1 of 'Captain Bastard Beard Rocks Time Itself'. Hollywood or independent filmmakers on the brink of greatness get in touch
"Gadzooks!" exclaimed the rapist as the Captain steered the ship straight between the eyes of the enraged sperm whale. Locked trance like in the beasts' solemn gaze, he noticed the faint yet masculine smell of Brut Por Homme that he'd splashed on for the Cabin Boy or the Spanish or his dead wife, he couldn't remember now that he realized he was in the eye of the tropical storm; both a metaphorical storm of misunderstood good will that usually ended in merry jig accompanied murder and vitamin B deficient scurvy, and the face lashingly real storm of the intense tropical weather system with a well-defined surface circulation and maximum sustained winds of 74 mph or higher.
All Captain Bastard Beard could hear in his good ear was the cackling of that damned Ice Witch and her mocked challenge. "Battle the mighty whale and take his proud fire breathing phallus. For it grants eternal raunch and feral badassery!". This really put him off as he was trying hard to look hunky and suave in front of his cowering, sea weary men. "Was this just a sexy, no holds barred threeway tease or was the story true?" the Captain pondered, suddenly losing his boner with the memory of sucking her honey lubed scab.
"Oh Captaaaaaaaaaaaaiiinnnn!" screamed Jimmy McCrabs as he hurled the Captain's mighty instrument from the galley. In a powerful lunge, the Captain caught his electric guitar, strapped up and proceeded to shred solo after electric solo literally thrashing the wales' stupid big face off with his rockin' riffs. "Ahaha I had a wale of a time!" the Captain quipped. "You can really wail on the axe!" said a deck hand, slapping his master on the back.
"Stand well back, boy. Now I must teach the storm itself a lesson with my rock fury". With hot whammy bar action, Bastard Beards' axe skills start to bend time and space itself...
All Captain Bastard Beard could hear in his good ear was the cackling of that damned Ice Witch and her mocked challenge. "Battle the mighty whale and take his proud fire breathing phallus. For it grants eternal raunch and feral badassery!". This really put him off as he was trying hard to look hunky and suave in front of his cowering, sea weary men. "Was this just a sexy, no holds barred threeway tease or was the story true?" the Captain pondered, suddenly losing his boner with the memory of sucking her honey lubed scab.
"Oh Captaaaaaaaaaaaaiiinnnn!" screamed Jimmy McCrabs as he hurled the Captain's mighty instrument from the galley. In a powerful lunge, the Captain caught his electric guitar, strapped up and proceeded to shred solo after electric solo literally thrashing the wales' stupid big face off with his rockin' riffs. "Ahaha I had a wale of a time!" the Captain quipped. "You can really wail on the axe!" said a deck hand, slapping his master on the back.
"Stand well back, boy. Now I must teach the storm itself a lesson with my rock fury". With hot whammy bar action, Bastard Beards' axe skills start to bend time and space itself...
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
:(
Have you ever had the kind of news that makes you feel like you're being torn in a hundred directions? Being ripped to pieces by the flesh lusting undead, cold and indifferent in their binary motivation? Neither satisfied nor forlorn once their grisly goal is met. Now that you're becoming necrotic bile, you have passing through rotten tract to look forward to, mixing with putrid semi digested foodstuffs and the freshly devoured flesh of your loved ones/neighbours' annoying pet. Then hopefully when you're finally stuffed through the decayed sphincter of your reanimated gourmand, you get to become a ghastly waste product of your own repugnant body, save only for the fact that your dream hasn't come true and you're suddenly horrifically aware that the mess you realize your life is in, is entirely of your own doing?
This is my pitch for a new kids tv show called Timely Epiphany of a Coward. I'm in talks with known sex offenders The Chuckle Bros and Toblerone addict Chico for the theme tune.
(PS. Any legal minded people, please be aware that these are simply dirty lies regarding Messrs Chuckle and Chico. All three are sexy and humble upstanding citizens and not related to said activities.)
This is my pitch for a new kids tv show called Timely Epiphany of a Coward. I'm in talks with known sex offenders The Chuckle Bros and Toblerone addict Chico for the theme tune.
(PS. Any legal minded people, please be aware that these are simply dirty lies regarding Messrs Chuckle and Chico. All three are sexy and humble upstanding citizens and not related to said activities.)
Hot Sugar, Mother Fuckers!
In my spare time I like nothing more than to radicalize mankind in my thrash sleaze fiendish moist rock outfit Hot Sugar. As well as melting faces and parting lips, we were recently honoured with key to the city of Peru following the dispersal, capture and subsequent rehabilitation of highly intelligent misanthropic battle chimps. HS Frontwoman Dawn Rodgers gave the following statement to local media: "They're basically good kids that got mixed up in the world of baboons and alcohol abuse. Happened to me in juvie." If your crotch can take it, come on down and lick my itch on our official Fanbase. Remember, I don’t want you to cry, just want your pie. If you can't be good, be fast.
Friday, 2 May 2008
Highly Sexed Raunch Mutant
I've decided that I need a hot danger woman to tame my ways. Well, maybe a harem of sultry sauce wenches to exhaust me through lust-capades.
In fact, that’s how I want to go out – death by an Amazonian raunch game gone bad. On the gravestone “It’s what he would have wanted RIP sauce ape”. Etched in Helvetica I think. Classy and timeless, like a reach around from Stephen Hawkings. Survived by strong midgets.
In fact, that’s how I want to go out – death by an Amazonian raunch game gone bad. On the gravestone “It’s what he would have wanted RIP sauce ape”. Etched in Helvetica I think. Classy and timeless, like a reach around from Stephen Hawkings. Survived by strong midgets.
Monday, 28 April 2008
Ou et le Horny?
This here is a stirring piece of highly sexed metaphysical schlock rock balladry. A sex blast for the ears entitled 'Ou et le Horny?'. It's semi autobiographical regarding a love tryst of mine with a half Spanish, half Welsh peasant girl.
(Atmospheric carnal synthesizer intro)
Verse
I can't stop lovin' your face and boobs
Your lips and hips really get me in the mood
You know the prudes they say we're crude
But we're just nude and we love to get rude! Yeah!
Pre chorus
Woah oh baby! Woah yeah! You're drivin' me crazy!
I can't get you outta my head
I'm gonna stuff your muffin until I'm half dead!
Chorus
I don't wanna sound too corny (too corny)
But please tell me ou et le horny? ( le horny?)
Yeah! Wow! Yeah! Aow!
x2
Breakdown
Break it down now!
Ou et? Ou et? Yeah! Oui!
Ou et? Ou et? Sacre bleu!
Ou et? Ou et? Tu? Me?
Ou et? Ou et? Ou et le horny?!
Verse
Where did it go wrong? Are we too sexy?
When you touch my dong I do a sex wee!
I'll take you down to big O town (I'll take you down)
I'll take you down no time to frown (I'll take you down)
Zut alors! I love you on all fours
I'm a dawg you're a cat I love it when you lick your paws. Yeah!
Like cosmic sex gods you love my sex rod
And you know we get applause! So c'mon!
Fin
(Atmospheric carnal synthesizer intro)
Verse
I can't stop lovin' your face and boobs
Your lips and hips really get me in the mood
You know the prudes they say we're crude
But we're just nude and we love to get rude! Yeah!
Pre chorus
Woah oh baby! Woah yeah! You're drivin' me crazy!
I can't get you outta my head
I'm gonna stuff your muffin until I'm half dead!
Chorus
I don't wanna sound too corny (too corny)
But please tell me ou et le horny? ( le horny?)
Yeah! Wow! Yeah! Aow!
x2
Breakdown
Break it down now!
Ou et? Ou et? Yeah! Oui!
Ou et? Ou et? Sacre bleu!
Ou et? Ou et? Tu? Me?
Ou et? Ou et? Ou et le horny?!
Verse
Where did it go wrong? Are we too sexy?
When you touch my dong I do a sex wee!
I'll take you down to big O town (I'll take you down)
I'll take you down no time to frown (I'll take you down)
Zut alors! I love you on all fours
I'm a dawg you're a cat I love it when you lick your paws. Yeah!
Like cosmic sex gods you love my sex rod
And you know we get applause! So c'mon!
Fin
Friday, 25 April 2008
I hate and fear technology because I don't understand it.
Having said that, porn is much more easily available these days.
Toofast says right on, right on erotic comedy murder sister! It's friday so get ready for 'The Raunch'.
Toofast says right on, right on erotic comedy murder sister! It's friday so get ready for 'The Raunch'.
The Path to World Domination?
Can surely only be truly obtained through the age old tradition of drug fuelled rock debauchery. To that end, I shall crawl up the filthy, crooked trail of the music business, regularly naked, on all fours, in varying degrees of leather, honking and baying like a cocksure alpha male hippopotamus straddling armed crack whores and disgruntled disabled children alike. The moniker for my "band", or more accurately, "global sauce bag musical sex apes" will likely be one of the following:
The Honky Tonk Douchebags
Nick and the Bitch
Kickface
Long Lost Cock Slap
The Destructo Behemoths
The Chili Dogs
Son Rapes Dad
The Facials
Cheese Hammer
The Wu Tang Grans
Semi Naked Glaze
Hot Sugar
The Saucy Haunches
Chin of Chuck
Isle of Man Face Kicking Sex Bastard Motorcycle Club
The Toxic Suck Off
Keep your eyes glued to the local toilet circuit for the first sweaty glimpses of my chosen vehicle of bass heavy raunchy muso power swagger. Take the facial if you want to be more than a footnote in the diabolical beginnings of the planets most erotic despots. \m/
The Honky Tonk Douchebags
Nick and the Bitch
Kickface
Long Lost Cock Slap
The Destructo Behemoths
The Chili Dogs
Son Rapes Dad
The Facials
Cheese Hammer
The Wu Tang Grans
Semi Naked Glaze
Hot Sugar
The Saucy Haunches
Chin of Chuck
Isle of Man Face Kicking Sex Bastard Motorcycle Club
The Toxic Suck Off
Keep your eyes glued to the local toilet circuit for the first sweaty glimpses of my chosen vehicle of bass heavy raunchy muso power swagger. Take the facial if you want to be more than a footnote in the diabolical beginnings of the planets most erotic despots. \m/
Thursday, 3 April 2008
Tuesday, 1 April 2008
Anselm-o's
Stumbled across this bad boy on a typically whining Download Festival forum. Anselm-o's. It'll give you a Mouth for War! Make sure you Drag the Milk (waters) for pentagram marshmellows! Yeah, that's about the limit of my Pantera pun skills today.
Can anyone tell me who the hell David is?
Check out that baby's quiff. Looks like Corey Haim singing in the bath in The Lost Boys. "I ain't got a job!" Anyway, it's a shame he's dead now. RIP (possibly) 80's champion.
Check out that baby's quiff. Looks like Corey Haim singing in the bath in The Lost Boys. "I ain't got a job!" Anyway, it's a shame he's dead now. RIP (possibly) 80's champion.
Thursday, 20 March 2008
Don't fuck with Chuck's Action Jeans!
Good God yes. You read it right. Stretchable gusset AND boot cut. You can tuck the T shirt in yourself, but you have to earn the beard.
You're welcome.
Achtung! Welcome!
Hello. Is it me you're looking for?
Sorry, I thought I was Lionel Ritchie for a moment there. Apologies. This blog is now the vessel for my thoughts, no matter how incohesively serial killer esque or irreverently forlorn.
Yes, from the title you can be sure that I'm Manx. That is, I'm from the Isle of Man which is from the Latin 'Iloveman' which was Gaelic for the ancient platonic phrase 'Vagina of the Irish Sea'. Thanks to Canesten Combi we've been thrush free for over 40 years now! Anyway, I digest.
Todays loves and hates: Loves bank holiday weekends! Hates that fucking "Beeper" song.
Sorry, I thought I was Lionel Ritchie for a moment there. Apologies. This blog is now the vessel for my thoughts, no matter how incohesively serial killer esque or irreverently forlorn.
Yes, from the title you can be sure that I'm Manx. That is, I'm from the Isle of Man which is from the Latin 'Iloveman' which was Gaelic for the ancient platonic phrase 'Vagina of the Irish Sea'. Thanks to Canesten Combi we've been thrush free for over 40 years now! Anyway, I digest.
Todays loves and hates: Loves bank holiday weekends! Hates that fucking "Beeper" song.
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