Feb 172010
 

LOL. ROFL. PMSL.

I understand these … they’re part of everyday usage really, I “grew up”, Internet-wise, using and feeling comfortable with them. Recently, however, some young new upstarts have appeared on the scene, and they seem to be taking over, forcing out the familiar LOL and supplanting the comfortable. I refer, of course, to “FML” and “FTW”.

These arrived without my noticing, which is bad enough; like a fogey, I had to ask what they mean. Worse, however, is that even with an explanation, I still don’t really understand them. I can’t put myself in the position where they would be my response; they simply do not resonate with me in the slightest.

So, I’m now reading “Grumpy Old Men“, “Is it just me, or is everything shit?” and all the rest of that ilk and empathising completely with the authors … I guess it’s time to buy some really comfortable slippers, a nice cardigan and possible even a pipe and embrace the decline into old age!

Aug 152007
 

There once was a minister in a small French town. He had always been a good man and lived by the Bible. One day God decided to reward him, with the answer to any three questions that he would like to ask.

The minister did not need much time to consider, and the first question was: “Will there ever be married Catholic priests?”

God promptly replied: “No, not in your life-time.”

The minister thought for a while, and then came up with the second question: “what about female Bishops then, will we have that one day?”

For a second time, God had to disappoint him: “Again, not in your life-time, I’m afraid.”

The minister looked disappointed and pondered long and hard before speaking again. After having thought for a while, he asked his last question: “Will there ever be another French pope?”

God answered quickly: “Not in my fucking life-time.”

Jul 242007
 

Someone sent me a message along the lines of “you haven’t read it or you wouldn’t be down on the wizard thing”. This made me think and put my thoughts into words. Here is my position on it all:

———————————————————————————-

With the best will in the world, and being overly generous, the entire thing is mediocre, middle of the road pablum; baby food for the brain. Unchallenging, thought-deadening rather than provoking, deserving in and of itself neither praise nor damnation.

What bothers me about it, however, is the quasi-religious status afforded to the woman’s waffle, the import with which it is treated at all strata of society. Each proferring accepted with the reverence of the word of god, rather than merely the latest instalment of a less than remarkable saga. It’s indicative of the instant hysteria of which we all seem to have become capable, if not upon which we have all become dependent.

Jul 062007
 

Have just started reading “The God Delusion” by Richards Dawkins – amazing thus far! I recommend it!

However, I really want to post the opening paragraph from the second chapter:

“The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sado-masochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.”

Cool!

Dec 052006
 

On the first day of Christmas,
My true gave to me,
A burning sensation when I pee.

On the second day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the third day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the sixth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Ten cocks a-leacking,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
“onze pipeurs en faisant la pipe”
Ten cocks a-leacking,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My true love gave to me,
Twelve bummers bumming,
“onze pipeurs en faisant la pipe”
Ten cocks a-leacking,
Nine drag queens mincing,
Eight suppositries in-sinking,
Seven slags a-rimming,
Six rent-boys a-laying,
A swo-oooo-llen ring,
Four days of meds,
Love without a glove,
Non-specific urethritis, and
a burning sensation when I pee.

Dec 042006
 

Away in a bath house, three dicks in a bed,
The Spanish kid, Jésus, gave amazing head,
The pervs in the dark room, looked down where we lay,
As I fucked two bi guys, two of whom were gay!

The faggots are blowing, as they cum, they shake,
But litte fag Jésus, no crying he makes,
I gag you, dear Jésus, those tears in your eye,
Tell me that you love it, though you’re completely high!

Be near me, oh Jésus, you’ve no choice but to stay,
Tied up near me, all night long, and blow me – I say!
Bless all the huge cock heads, in your tender rear,
You’ll take them to heaven, then scream – “fuck me, dear!”

Original lyrics:

Away In A Manger

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
the little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head,
The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay,
the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
but little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.
I love you, Lord Jesus; look down from the sky,
and stay by my side until morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask you to stay
close by me forever, and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children in your tender care,
and take us to heaven, to live with you there.

Nov 022005
 

Now that Vancouver has won the 2010 Winter Olympics, these are some questions that people the world over are asking. These questions about Canada were REALLY posted on an International Tourism Website! For my Canadian friends and those who can appreciate this…Enjoy!

Q: I have never seen it warm on Canadian TV, so how do the plants grow? (UK)
A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around and watch them die.

Q: Will I be able to see Polar Bears in the street? (USA)
A: Depends on how much you’ve been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Vancouver to Toronto – can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)
A: Sure, it’s only four thousand miles; take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Canada? (Sweden)
A: So it’s true what they say about Swedes.

Q: Are there any ATMs in Canada? Can you send me list of them in Toronto, Vancouver, Edmonton & Halifax? (UK)
A: What did your last slave die of?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Canada? (USA)
A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Ca-na-da is that big country to your north. Oh, forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is north in Canada? (USA)
A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we’ll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys’ Choir schedule? (USA)
A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is … Oh, forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys’ Choir plays every Tuesday night in Calgary, just after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Do you have perfume in Canada? (Germany)
A: No, we don’t stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Canada? (USA)
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in British Columbia where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy)
A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada? (USA)
A: Only at Thanksgiving.

Q: Are there supermarkets in Toronto and is milk available all year round? (Germany)
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of Vegan hunter/gatherers. Milk is illegal.

Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Canada, but I forget its name. It’s a kind of big horse with horns. (USA)
A: It’s called a moose. They are tall and very violent, eating the brains of anyone walking close to them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

Q: I was in Canada in 1969 on R & R and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Surrey, B.C. Can you help? (USA)
A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)
A: Yes, but you will have to learn it first.

Aug 302005
 

You Know You’re From London When …

You say “the city” and expect everyone to know which one.

You have never been to The Tower or Madame Tussauds but love Brighton.

You can get into a four-hour argument about how to get from Shepherds Bush to Elephant & Castle at 3:30 on the Friday before a long weekend, but can’t find Dorset on a map.

Hookers and the homeless are invisible.

You step over people who collapse on the tube.

You believe that being able to swear at people in their own language makes you multi-lingual.

You’ve considered stabbing someone.

Your door has more than three locks.

Your favourite movie has Hugh Grant in it.

You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.

You call an 8′ x 10′ plot of patchy grass a garden.

You know where Karl Marx is buried.

You consider Essex the “countryside”

You think Hyde Park is “nature.”

You’re paying £1,200 a month for a studio the size of a walk-in wardrobe and you think it’s a “bargain.”

Shopping in suburban supermarkets and shopping malls gives you a severe attack of agoraphobia.

You’ve been to Tooting twice and got hopelessly lost both times.

You pay more each month to park your car than most people in the UK pay in rent.

You haven’t seen more than twelve stars in the night sky since you went camping as a kid.

You own hiking boots and a 4WD vehicle, neither of which have ever touched dirt.

You haven’t heard the sound of true absolute silence since 1977, and when you did, it terrified you.

You pay £3 without blinking for a beer that cost the bar 28p.

You actually take fashion seriously.

Being truly alone makes you nervous.

You have 27 different menus next to your telephone.

The UK west of Heathrow is still theoretical to you.

You’re suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.

You haven’t cooked a meal since helping mum last Christmas with the turkey.

Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes.

£50 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.

You have a minimum of five “worst cab ride ever” stories.

You don’t hear sirens anymore.

You’ve mentally blocked out all thoughts of the city’s air quality and what it’s doing to your lungs.

You live in a building with a larger population than most towns.

Your cleaner is Russian, your grocer is Korean, your deli man is Israeli, your landlord is Italian, your laundry guy is Chinese, your favourite bartender is Irish, your favourite diner owner is Greek, the watch-seller on your corner is Senegalese, your last cabbie was Pakistani, your newsagent is Indian and your favourite falafel guy is Egyptian.

You wouldn’t want to live anywhere else until you get married.

You say ‘mate’ constantly

Anyone not from London is a ‘wanker’

Anyone from outside London and north of the Watford Gap is a ‘Northern Wanker’

You have no idea where the North is.

You see All Saints in the Met Bar (again) and find it hard to get excited about it.

The countryside makes you nervous

Somebody speaks to you on the tube and you freak out thinking they are a stalker.

You talk in postcodes. “God, it was really warm round SW1 the other day”

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from London.

You Know You’re From Toronto When…

A really great parking spot can move you to tears.

You can recommend about 3 good body piercing parlours.

You make well over $100,000 and you still can’t find a nice place to live.

You realize there are far more rainbow flags in the city than Canadian Flags.

When the temperature rises above zero degrees, you yell “Woohooo! Patio weather!”

You enjoy watching channel 47 multicultural TV

You’re guaranteed to know at least one person on every episode of Speaker’s Corner.

You haven’t been to the CN Tower since you were six, but still have nightmares about that damn turbo elevator.

You’ve had at least 3 bicycles stolen in the past 10 years.

You’ve partied with at least one of the members of The Kids in the Hall

You’ve fantasized about having sex in Casa Loma

At least 3 of your friends have moved to Vancouver

You turn your nose up at any establishment frequented by the S&M crowd. (Scarborough and Mississauga)

You never, never, never swim in the lake

You know “The Beaches” are really called “The Beach”, but still say “The Beaches” just to annoy all the nitwits who live there

You ever had a birthday party at the Organ Grinder or The Mad Hatter

You can say “world’s tallest freestanding structure” ten times fast

You know the correct answer to “Where do shopping carts go to die?” is “The Don River”

You speak better Chinese than French

The word “cabbagetown” doesn’t strike you as particularily amusing

Castle Frank subway station remains one of the great mysteries of the universe for you.

You know what the bathrooms in the First Canadian Place are REALLY for

You don’t know where Fort York is, but have a vague recollection of being there in a past life

You know the Demic’s song “I Wanna Go To New York City” was intended as sarcasm, not a weekend getaway suggestion

You know where to find Dim Sum, Sushi, Curry, Pad Thai and a dildo at 3 am on a weeknight

For the last time, it’s pronounced ‘TRONNA’!

You consider eye contact a sign of hostility and an invasion of your privacy.

It takes you half an hour to get to work by TTC and you are the envy of all your friends.

You mourned the death of the Spadina Bus.

You know someone who went to high school with at least one member of The Barenaked Ladies or RUSH

You laugh heartily at people who refer to highway four hundred and one.

You’ve taken the vomit comit.

You can manuver your bike across Queen st. without getting caught in the streetcar tracks.

You know the difference between souvlaki, moussaka and spanakopita.

You can name at least three locations of The Beer Store that are open till 11 PM.

You have NEVER been to the Hard Rock Cafe

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Toronto.