Henry Hunter

The Pen Is Mightier Than A Terrorists Neck Flesh.

2012-01-27T03:44:00.000-08:00

Mark Wahlberg and his hypothetical heroism made me think of something that happened to me a few years a go on a flight home from Italy. Depending on how you look at it I either nearly stopped a terrorist attack or I came within seconds of killing an innocent man. Either way I did nothing, absolutely nothing at all. But I was ready to, and that's the point.

I had been on summer holiday to a village in central Italy where my family are from, I was flying back to Prestwick from Rome, a notoriously shitty flight. Full of screaming kids and old Italians who insist upon clapping the landing, which really bothers me for some reason.

I had take my seat between my cousin Anthony, who got the window, and some random guy who took the aisle. The random guy next to me had a heavy tan, dark hair, and a moustache. Easily Italian. I didn't notice him for most of the flight, as I tend to put my hoody on backwards and wear the hood over my face so I don't have to look at anyone or waste my time acknowledging the existence of any Ryanair cabin crew.

The flight was as all return flights are, long, uncomfortable and sad. So much so that it makes all kids cry as loud as they can for as long as they can. Or at least that is the way it seems. When I finally heard the captain say "cabin crew take your seats for landing" I knew I was almost home. Just stay under the hood for another 10/15 minutes and I would be off this plane, away from these blue and yellow cunts, away from the screaming kids and away from this guy next to me who by this point was sweating fairly heavily.

After another 30 minutes, and we are still in the air, I took my hood down to see that a lot of people were looking out the windows. My cousin Anthony looked at me and said "there are fighter jets following us." I didn't believe him. What a crazy thing to say. Then I looked and the two things outside our right side looked exactly like two fighter jets. Curious. I strained to look out the left side and saw at least one more. Mix this with the fact we had been circling for a while, I kind of started to worry.

I should point out here that I have no prejudice based on what the news tells me, because that would go against my one rule, that would make me a dick. If you think someone who isn't the same colour as you is a potential threat you are not only a dick, but a cunt to boot. However. Saying that, this fellow next to me, who looked like an Italian at the beginning of the flight was starting to look all Taliban-y to me. He began to sweat heavier, and became very fidgety. After about 3 minutes of me using my excellent peripheral vision to keep an eye on him, and noticing that he was making eye contact with a guy of a similar look 3 rows ahead of us, he stood up, opened the overhead bin, grabbed something and stuffed it straight into his jacket pocket. I shat it.

I started to have a mild internal panic attack, I looked around the plane. I seemed to be the only one with a Mark One Eyeball on this guy. This guy, with his pal, were planning to take down the plane... It doesn't matter how insane that sounds, at the time, given the jets, the circling and this guys behaviour (or my interpretation of it) it was real enough. I rummaged around my pockets for keys or anything I could use as a weapon. In my outside left jacket pocket I had a silver writing pen. That's it. If this bastard makes his move I'll stick this pen in his throat. Joe Pesci style. I clicked the pen as if that nib would make all the difference in penetrating his skin.

I sat there staring at the headrest in front of me, keeping my peripherals on the mark. In my head I was falling to pieces, I obviously didn't want the guy to be a terrorist, I certainly didn't want to think I was on a plane that someone decided wasn't going to make it's destination... But I did kind of want to be able to stab someone in the throat with a pen, and I am not afraid to admit that I gave thought to the insane amount of Hero Pussy I'd get. To put this in context, lot's of shit had happened by this point, including the attempt on Glasgow Airport, where the terrorists got a swift boot to the baws. The guy with the exploding pants had his head kicked in by the same people he planned to kill in the name of a fucking religion.. The tide had turned, people were scared enough to hit out. And if this cunt next to me so much as coughs, I thought, I will stab the shit out of his throat and eyes.

I was like a tightly coiled spring. But then we landed. And he hadn't made his move. Maybe he had no move and I had just lost my damn mind, or maybe he got cold feet. Or maybe he thought the guy next to him with the beard, and his hand firmly in his pocket, staring at the back of the seat in front of him like he is thinking about killing someone... maybe he though that I was what he appeared to be to me... If that makes sense.

We all shuffled off the plane, dealt with the luggage and went home. I couldn't shift it though. As much as I had imagined most of it, I had kind of convinced myself to kill that guy. It made me realise something. The guy was Italian, without doubt, my moment of madness was just that. I found out the next day that the jets were precautionary because of a break in at Prestwick Airport in which a bunch of hippies had stormed the runway in some idiotic protest against George W Bush who was due at the Airport the next week for the G8. But as it stood at the time, in the plane, I don't think it was too far of a leap, after all we are being told day in day out that we should fear this kind of thing. It is truly despicable, but it is the way the news works now. I don't usually watch the news. But in that village in Italy BBC News 24 is one of only 2 English language channels we have. So I watched it. For two weeks solid.

Let's just say, for arguments sake that I killed the guy. He stood up again and I jammed the pen in his throat and repeated the action until I was, in effect, punching his spinal column. The plane would be painted with his blood, people would be screaming, babies would STILL be screaming. They all saw it, they all saw me stab this guy dozens of times. With all the witnesses and my own confession, I still think I would get away with it. And why not. I didn't do it, even if I was covered in his blood. I have a long history of being calm(ish) and collected(ish), I would explain that I spent two weeks watching The BBC's Version of the news, I would tell them about the fighter jets and this guys behaviour. I would tell the world that I was led to believe that my options were stab the guy or end up being terrorised(?) Is that the right term? You know what I mean. There is far too many Rolling News channels on, and none of them are telling you anything except new things to be scared of. It isn't news. It is the worst TV show on any network in any country. It is a dark, farcical comedy about us chasing an invisible threat around the oil rich countries of the world.

Everyone wants to be a hero. Or at least believe that they have it in them. I don't know if I would have gone through with it, panic will do funny things to you. I'd like to think that had the situation called for it I would have executed this guy and his pal... But at the same time, had he pulled out a bomb, or knife or anything I would probably have shat my pants. That's the problem with hypothetical scenarios, Marky Mark, you just never know how you'll react. A series of events led me to disregard almost everything I have learned, don't make assumptions about people being a big one. Don't watch the BBC being the other. That's a pretty big one.

I wish there was a bigger ending to this story. It simply proves that while you all think about these horrific things on planes, the chances of anything happening are truly remote. But if they do, you should be prepared. Watch Marky Mark's movies, take notes. Decorate the first class with terrorist blood. Fucking chop 'em up. The world will thank you for it, and there's not a court in the land that would convict you. The Land Of Hero Pussy and Mad Props Awaits Ye. It's like the religious concept of paradise... Except, you know, attainable.

This One time, In A Vegas Strip Club.

2012-01-16T06:25:00.000-08:00

There is a semi naked girl on my TV. Her name is Lolly, and she is currently squeezing her ass cheeks and waving her vagina at the camera. She is on the phone, one can only assume the depravity of the person on the other line. Battering away on his dick, listening to some girl with really awful tits talk dirty to him. It is one of the most disgusting rackets legally allowed to operate. I think it is an insult to men. Furthermore I think it is degrading. I feel the same about strip clubs, kind of, but at least the girl is actually waving her tits and ass in your face in a strip club.

The general theory is that because women are naked in these places, that somehow they are being taken advantage of. Which they aren't obviously. It is men who are being taken advantage of, playing to their weaknesses. Once women were allowed to unleash the full beauty of their being, men were fucked. More figuratively than anything. Once there was a price on pussy, so to speak. Marketing people, like with almost everything good, managed to some how ruin sex(y). They placed it up on such a magnificently high shelf that it became harder to find than the clit... Eh guys... Guys? Sorry for that, it won't happen again.

Lolly is now pretend humping something or someone. In fact, if you CGI'd a horse under her, galloping really hard, she wouldn't look out of place. Apart from the fact she is naked. The people who make this show must be fucking raking it in. That's why I have never agreed with the old "strip clubs are degrading to women" line. The people who say that are the same people who have never been into a strip club, or downtrodden husbands who have to say it when the wife brings it up with company. "yes dear, degrading." While fingering the wallet that used to store food money. The only people being degraded in a strip club are the punters. Throwing money at a stripper so she can dance close enough to turn you on, but no touching. You are paying a girl to get you horny so you can either go home and rub one out, or you can go pay another woman to fuck you. It just seems completely ridiculous to me, just rub one out to start with. Have some fucking will power man.

I've been in two strip clubs. Both in Vegas, both completely different experiences. A few years ago I went to Vegas for the first time with my good friend, let's call him Jim (I am already breaking the What Happens In Vegas rule, I don't want to take liberties as he doesn't know I'm writing this). Jim and I decided that the old adage 'anything worth doing is worth doing right' and after meeting our limo driver at the airport we went straight to the off license and got booze. Then we nervously asked Sal, the limo driver whose first words to me were "I can get you guys anything you want" if he could get us something we really wanted. To his credit, within the hour we were into it.

About 4 days later, when we realised that we hadn't slept, or indeed really left the room yet that we would go to a strip club. A taxi took us ages out of the way, it would later become an inconvenience bordering on life threatening. But we got there. It was about 5 in the morning if I remember correctly. Upon entering the place, keeping in mind we were full of booze and madness, we went straight to the bar and I immediately took advantage of Las Vegas smoking law that prohibits smoking absolutely nowhere. There were quite a few people in the place, but I ignored them and went straight for the dances. I wasn't paying, I had forgotten my wallet and Jim was covering it. He took no part in my vile ways because of his girlfriend back home, so all the more for me. I went mad, got dances with mostly all the girls who were available, more than one at a time some of the time. I was wrecked so I didn't really pay much attention to the questioning of what I did for a living, I just thought it was standard stripper patter.

During a dance with two black girls one of the girls came over and asked us to join them at the bar, where they were handing champagne to Jim, which turned out to be free. I again didn't question this due to my naivety, it wasn't until there were only a few guys left at the bar and I decided to forget where I was for a second.

I ran out of cigs and saw a guy next to me had a pack on the bar, I walked over. "Excuse me mate" I shouted over the music. He acknowledged me with a nod. "You wouldn't tap me a fag would you?" I said, thinking nothing of it because we call cigs Fags in Britain. I don't know why, Never asked. But that didn't matter because suddenly this cunt gets wild. Throwing his arms up and staring at me like I had just walked in the room and wanked in to his lap. "What the fuck did you just say?" He screamed, his two meatheaded mates gathered round. "Listen mate, I'm just looking for a fag." That sealed it. And about three seconds after I said it realisation washed over me like a fucking tidal wave. I tried to calm it but the guy kind of went for me, "You've come to the wrong place for a fag pal!" but before anything really sore happened the guy and his mates were wrestled out and we were left drinking at the bar with the strippers and the champagne. We now had all the strippers gathered round, I don't know the collective noun for strippers, maybe Corum or Quango. An Awesomeness of strippers? Whatever, we had them. We got wrecked.

Soon after those guys got thrown out Jim came over to me worried looking, he told me we had to leave because the bouncers just asked him for his gun. I knew nothing about a gun and was just wrecked enough to throw logic away and assume that he must have one. He went on to say that they had assured him everything was ok, but they knew his line of work and club policy stated no guns.

I started to think about the questions I had been asked. One sprung straight to my head that is obvious now, but try comprehending anything after being awake for 4 days, no food and there is a half naked girl actually dry humping your erection. One asked me why I needed a bodyguard. It is important to point out here that Jim is a solid drinker, one of those who get drunk, but look kind of sober. While I am the guy rolling about on the floor. A series of totally innocent things happened through the course of the visit that led these girls to believe that we were monied and/or famous.

The fact Jim paid for everything from the start, and me mumbling it was because "he takes care of me", being unwittingly evasive with their questions, Jim appearing to be wearing a gun on his belt, when it was just one of those phone pouches, the fact that when they asked how long we were in Vegas for our answer was we are on our way to LA, because that was the truth. Vis a vis, ergo, they thought Jim was my bodyguard and I, someone in need of a bodyguard. Once we figured it out, had a wee meeting away from the girls, we decided only actual real life idiots would leave that place. This was maybe not The American Dream, but I think we were close.

We drank so much more, and with nothing left keeping us awake and sober, it was going to end. We could both feel it. Once the shift change was coming we knew our time was up, so I took one of the girls into the back room where I was promised a private dance. I was on a couch in what was just a closed bar, and while this girl did her utmost to keep me entertained I was drifting off, I can just remember waking up every few minutes as I dozed off and there she'd be, dancing for me. She tried her best to keep me entertained, and in a last gasp attempt to make sure I had a great time, as is the way in America if you're spending money the people taking it are nice to you (take note Britain there is more hospitality in a Vegas strip club in the early morning than there is in Britain on whole) She grabbed my dick and started going for it. I woke up, mid handjob as Jim is accompanied by the doormen who were assuring him I was ok and not being robbed or anything. I didn't even say anything, it was over. Me and my erection were going back to the hotel, because what was ever going to happen? I wasn't going to be the one guy to get to fuck a stripper after only paying for a dance. Even with our luck that night. We had exhausted that. We said our goodbyes and made for the door, and walked straight into the midday heat, that is a quick way to jump back into some kind of reality. From a dark, air conditioned room full of hot women, to the vast desert in the bright sunshine and the really hot air.

For some unknown reason we chose to walk, more than likely because we had no money left. We eventually got back to the hotel and finally crashed out. We woke up about 20 something hours later and I had to phone down to reception to find out what day it is incase we had missed our flights to LA, we still had a day. The receptionist who answered didn't seem fussed by the question, I can imagine they hear it often.

I love that story, it is as close as I will ever come to winning the lottery. It pisses other guys off a little, guys who frequent strip clubs on nights out. Why? Because strip clubs are degrading to men. They are designed to prey on a lack of will power that is inherent through mostly all men, the fact that if you appeal to a mans libido he will do anything, including throw money at a girl who is going to do nothing but make you horny and skint. That's what Lolly with the terrible tits is doing. She is waving her stuff at you, asking you to call now.

I don't have much luck with women, I have some. I'd call it sporadic. But my point is that even if I don 't have sex for days, weeks or months on end I would never get to the point that I needed to phone some girl who I wouldn't even consider talking to for free in order to get off. Have some damn respect.

It's Friday 13th. Time To Dust Off The Saga.

2012-01-13T03:47:00.000-08:00

To me there is no greater horror saga that the Friday The 13th series. It has pretty much everything, including strong morals, that you ignore in favour of cheering the big bastard on. Jason, the potato sack and latterly, hockey mask wearing unkillable madman has a lust for the blood of the naughty. Fuck, drink and smoke weed anywhere near Crystal Lake and there is a strong chance Jason will hunt you down and chop you in half. If you're lucky enough to have never fucked anyone, or drank and there is a chance you can evade death and maybe even send the bastard back to where once he came.

In the summer of 2000, when I had just left school, I went to work in New Hampshire at a summer camp. On a day off a bunch of us decided to go to the cinema. On the road there we drove by a lay by which led down to a lake, there was a rope swing hanging on a tree over the water. I had a crazy sense I had been there before, but I had never been to the state, never mind some out of the way lay by in deepest darkest New Hampshire, whose state slogan is "Live Free Or Die!". I told my buddy Chris that I recognised it, maybe deja vu I said. He said "it's in Friday 13th Part 4." It was only then it dawned on me that I had taken a job at a camp on Crystal Lake. I shat it. I didn't sleep for a week, and I stopped drinking, and I stopped trying to bang the Russian kitchen staff.

I was really worried.

A few years later I would end up study cinema, forever ruining the mystery of movies for myself and those around me. But back then, given my geographical location, the surrounding woods, the lake and all these fucking promiscuous camp councilors around me, I feared the worse. Like the Loch Ness Monster, the story of Jason had to come from somewhere, I thought. Every little noise outside my window at night would make me think of Jason... It is the middle of nowhere, in the woods, there were lots of noises.

Anyway, to me there is no greater example of great American slasher movies. Freddie can go fuck himself. The Nightmare on Elm Street series never got over the exceptional first movie, after that they all sucked so much, it is a wonder any body involved wanted their names attached. The only time Freddie became watchable again was in Freddie Vs Jason.

Jason can't be stopped. That is a stone cold fact. The limits of what is acceptable in terms of coming up with fresh storylines is pushed to the absolute limit throughout the series. But up until part 4, it is straight up good, gory fun. In Part 1 it is the murderous, grieving Mrs Voorhees who makes the slut councilors pay for the drowning of her son. It isn't until part 2 where we get to see Jason, but it isn't until part 3 when Jason becomes the Jason we all love, that machete wielding, hockey mask wearing madman.

He can't be stopped, but he can (technically) be killed. Although already dead, he has been ripped ton pieces over the 10+ movies. Even reanimated in outer space in Jason X, which got panned like fuck, but is worth watching for the bit when he drowns a girl by pushing her face into liquid nitrogen, he then smashes her face on a work surface. Genius.

It is the deaths which drive these movies, it doesn't matter who he kills. It's how they die. Final Destination movies brought this back to popular culture. In a world of creepy, but ultimately pish Japanese movies about kids hiding in lofts, it is good to know that some people still desire to see elaborate, largely unbelievable and always worthy of a cheer kind of kills. Where else could you cheer a guy in a wheel chair getting macheted in the face?

It is a notoriously difficult series to properly get into, in terms of writing about it due to lack of care when new installments were being written. Fuck, it's hard enough keeping track while watching them.

As famous as he is, an iconic character in the long history of cinema, transcending his genre. He almost never was, no one expected a sequel to the first movie, and this shows throughout the series. But you ignore all that, and instead focus on things like Crispin Glover being nailed to a door frame and then ripped violently from it. But he deserved it for being such a dick about the Back To The Future thing.

So, Jason drowned. His mother got decapitated after a revenge killing spree. Jason somehow witnessed the decapitation (which was a plot point added later in the series) and that sparked his saga, al;though he definitely wasn't there at the end of the first movie. There is no logic in the series, only awesomeness. Jason is a warning to America, don't drink, smoke of have pre-marital sex, lest you be picked up in your sleeping bag and repeatedly battered against a tree until dead. He is the big, sharp stick of morality in Reagan's America. Christ, it even had the Reagan Anti Drug poster boy Corey Feldman who, despite his age in part 4 was probably out his tits on something... But he made the 4th movie incredible. It is probably the best. It is called The Final Chapter, and maybe should have ended after it. Between Feldman's terrible idea to pretend to be a young Jason to confuse him, and the aforementioned Crispin Glover bit, it really is amazing.

Keep yer Hostels and Saws. Gory for the sake of it, and a sad attempt at playing to peoples fear of being injured. Give me unkillable, machete wielding maniacs who hate sluts any day of the week.

How The Royals Need To Stop The Scrounging And Get With The Program.

2012-01-04T07:18:00.000-08:00

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.

Rolling News Can Suck My Balls.

2011-12-20T06:02:00.000-08:00

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.

The End Is Maybe Nigh.

2011-12-12T06:57:00.000-08:00

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.

Some Prick Always Brings Myrrh To The Party.

2010-12-22T04:44:00.000-08:00

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.

Is there any men actually working? Not if you are to believe Chatroulette.com

2010-03-17T11:13:00.000-07:00

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 Evolution of Celebrity.

2010-02-10T10:14:00.000-08:00

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.

Space cakes didn't help.

2009-12-04T11:10:00.000-08:00

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.

Hobbies, coffees and ignorance.

2009-10-16T09:52:00.000-07:00

There are many things one can do with their spare time, if of course you allow for such a thing in your hectic and important life. Some people like to do outdoor activities, which are fun, providing you have the get up and go to get up and get there. Hobbies tend to work also, as do watching films and tv shows, which is a personal favourite of mine, and I suppose that is a hobby. Either way, spare time is not something to be fearful of, if there was something more important to be done you would probably be doing it. I realised this last night in the middle of my 5 disc of TV show Fringe (which is brilliant coincidentally) I had two things planned for last night, well three, but two things I haven't done in a while. Sit in on my own, and get through my large box of what can best be described as demented scribblings.

I tend to write everything in lovely books you can buy at my local stationary shop which will remain nameless because despite it's local tag, I don't really like the place. However, the books are good, and fairly cheap. Before the discovery of these books, I would write everything down in yellow legal pads that were housed in a lovely leather folder that was a gift from my good friend Becky B. I also had a period of writing on my little notebook laptop, but that has contracted aids from some filthy site I must have visited one day.

The good thing about looking back at old writing is finding the stuff you didn't want anyone else to see, the stuff you don't print, just as much fun is finding the original notes of things that became something else. For example i found my notes from the first night me and my buddy Gus played GTA on the PS3, online, which then became a post on this blog. I also stumbled upon the book that houses the lyrics I contributed to what would become a major label album, which was exciting because I was almost positive I'd lost that book.

I've lost my train of thought, as I am working in a cafe at the minute, making coffee for people, and trying not to gorge myself to death on the fine selection of cakes I sell. Spare time, that's where I started. I had mentioned to one of my customers that I had spent my spare time doing as I mentioned last night. His reaction was to make fun that I had spare time, and implied that if I had a job like his I wouldn't have spare time. It took me a while to realise he had pretty much called me a loser, so long in fact that he had long since left the cafe. I lost, I need to deal with it. However, he was wearing a suit, which given the area surrounding my work makes him a banker or a lawyer, or some other 9-5 shit hole of a job. Which would mean he has more spare time than me because if I'm not working here I am working nights at a bar. Of course he could have children that take up time, but that's not my fault, that has nothing to do with his superior profession, if anything his kids should be the first thing he thinks about when someone says the words 'spare time', but they weren't, and I'm sure there is a reason for it.

Anyway, aside from pompous pricks, I remembered what I was getting at. My hobby is writing, and you can now read more of it at www.worldnewsvine.net. Come check it out.
Henry. x

It's hip to be hippy

2009-10-07T07:40:00.000-07:00

Sub cultures are a bit of an easy target, from the outside they are easy to lampoon, usually due to lack of knowledge of said sub-culture, ignorance or just plain old fashioned fear of the unknown. Taking on a massive group of people is never a great idea because tarring lots of people with the same brush is never constructive and usually the work of the media. There are certain groups of people I don’t mind attacking though, usually the ones who won’t fight back, or can’t fight back like the very young, the very old and the frail.

Being a hippy seems both extremely easy, and extremely difficult, a paradox, if you will. To look like a hippy is the easy bit, grow your hair/get dreadlocks, if you are a guy grow a beard, if you are a girl grow out your pits, don’t waste time washing, and wear clothes made from materials only found in shops that hippies know exist. That’s easy, even people who are not trying to be a hippy can be mistaken for one, simply for having one or more of these examples.

The difficulty in being a hippy is deciding on how much of a hypocrite you are prepared to be to fit into this particular sub-culture. The dictionary definition is ‘someone who rejects the established culture’, established culture covers everything from living in a house to what type of toilet paper you use, to what clothes you buy and what you do for a living. It is a minefield of potential hypocrisy. Unless you live in a field/tree and eat berries while dressed in a potato sack, then there is every chance that your seemingly impenetrable force field of ’child of the earth’ hippy smugness is a sham and purely image driven. Hypocritical. Hippycritical.

As I said earlier there are a few groups I don’t mind attacking, hippies are obviously one of them. Hippies are great fodder because if they were a true hippy they shouldn't be reading this and simply by doing so they are backing up most of the points I am trying to make, the internet is a wonder of modern, established culture. Any that do read this and become upset should keep that in mind. They are also the least threatening of sub cultures, which is a shame because a lot of the protesting hippies are doing the right thing, its just that no one has ever been, or ever will be scared of a hippy, if you compare them to, say, a punk. A punk is anti-establishment, pro-violence and when they can afford it they will eat meat. A hippy is also usually anti-establishment, but anti-violence and doesn’t eat meat. If confronted by both, and both were wanting to attack me, I would pick on the hippy. The reason being is anyone who does not eat the flesh of another animal is not a violent threat, that‘s just science. This theory is evident by their acceptance of ‘protest zones’ letting the government tell them where they can and can’t protest, like it should be some organised event. Do you think the guy that gets shit done, the guy that over throws a tyrant, or assassinates a dictator wakes up to Jefferson Airplane and a bowl of oats that morning? I very much doubt it.

As in all sub-cultures there are levels and categories of Hippy. There is the ‘College Hippy’ (the one who bought a Che Guevara poster during fresher’s week and bases his whole story around it), the ‘Anti-Capitalist Capitalist Hippy (usually your weed dealer), ‘The Old Angry Hippy’ (who is miffed that despite his years of healthy living, has realised he will die like the rest of us), ‘The Pretentious Hippy (the same as the ‘College Hippy’ after being at college or uni for a few years, usually talks to you with their eyes closed to stop the smug pouring down their cheeks.) The tech-age hippy is joke and punch line rolled into one. A hippy with a facebook page will make me laugh on the shittiest of days.

The hippies are certainly not my main concern in life, but I felt the need to vent the frustration I feel towards them, except the ‘living in a field, shitting in a bucket’ type of hippy, their image and ideals seem aligned. The rest I’m sure have their reasons. I just wrote a page of this, and I’m starting to care a little less about the hippy, then I am reminded of the many times one of them has tried to make me feel bad about simple things such as eating meat. My problem with that particular argument is that I genuinely believe that if we were not meant to eat animals then who ever created them would not have made them so damn tasty. And versatile. Think of all the ways you can cook beef for example, burgers, nachos, steak, mince, a hearty stew. Hunting your own dinner is surely one of the most ancient and awesome things a human can do. Killing animals for dinner, fun and nutritious.

Harriet Harman loves anal

2009-10-02T07:07:00.000-07:00

I hope you like the title, it's more a guess than a statement of fact. I have no proof, but that shouldn't stop a good bit off gossip. I know a guy, who knows a guy whose flat mate claims to have done Harriet Harman up the ass. Crazy times.

The reason I bring it up is that she is in the news today getting close with every ones favourite racist steroid abusing hate merchant, and star of some great movies, Big Arnie S. She is demanding a website dedicated to educating men on which prostitutes are safe, or of course fun to do business with, be taken down. In her, and many British politicians minds, they can dictate what we can or can't watch, play, eat, say, do, wear, love, believe in, and have sex with.

Imagine, while it is still legal to do so, that prostitution was legal, the money it would generate would be incredible. The same could be said for certain drugs, but that's a tad more grey. Paying for sex has been around for as long as we knew a penis would fit inside the vag that neatly, so why is it still a big deal. There are some ugly people out there, and some stinky people, or boring people, people who can't get laid. Why should they have to fly to Amsterdam, risking it all to get some. It's ludicrous.

That aside, Harriet Harman just doesn't realise that banning websites because they don' fit in with the conservative ideals one has been raised with is not what happens in a Country that not only boasts of it's liberties but also threatens smaller nations into taking on the same ideals. In any case the website PunterNet.com is a good website, it gives you the ins and outs, if you will, of the British prostitute scene. Its not pornographic, it is informative

You can have your nuke back at the end of class.

2009-10-02T03:26:00.000-07:00

Nuclear weapons are bad. I get that. They are bad, and against the law, but only if they are held by countries that we don't trust, not when we have them. This is only half the problem because of all the countries in the world, we side with the Americans. This is either a very clever strategy, or a terribly dumb one. It could very well be a friends close, enemies closer sort of affair behind the scenes, but in the public eye the special relationship has been strong for years, and by special I mean America is like Biff Tannen, and UK is like the guys who stand behind him, we are basically a young Billy Zane. Laughing and lording it up in our big bullying pals shadow.

All over the papers this week is Iran, where our soldiers will be 'liberating' next, taking freedom and democracy to people who don't ask for it, and delivering the western way of life via laser guided missiles. We won't stop until these heathens have a McDonalds on every corner, right next to the Starbucks. It is no wonder that Iran is next after all they have the audacity to try and build a nuclear weapon, and tell the Americans (and us) to fuck off, when only us, the coalition of good guys are allowed those weapons. The un-christian, un-democratic Iranians can have sharp sticks and whatever weapons are left over from the last army the Americans armed.

This is maybe slightly off subject, but I was watching a programme yesterday about the state of Germany in the decade before Hitler rose to power, and I was amazed at how poor the country was in that period, and even more amazed when you see how they salvaged their economy in time to unleash their hate on the world. It could have something to do with the Americans funding the Nazi party I suppose. Just like they did with the Taliban and the IRA. Or that could all just be coincidence, or the work of the dreaded 'conspiracy theorists'. Dun dun duh. Those crazy guys.

So if half our problem is not knowing if America feel the same way towards us as our PM seems to feel towards them, then the other half must be the knowledge that we are now, to the rest of the world, just another State of America. Since before Tony Blair fooled voters into thinking he was anything but a sadistic little con artist with an ego bigger than his wifes unsightly mouth, and long before George W Bush pretended he wasn't snorting cocaine in the White House, the majority were happy to follow the Americans wherever they decide, at risk of being the next country they invade. Although that may never happen because we just give them our oil, they have no need to take it by force.

Now that America have a leader who can actually talk and think at the same time, they have tricked everyone into thinking they have changed, trying to show that they are not just tyrannical war mongers, spurred on by the (not so) mighty dollar and the pursuit of un-tapped oil sources. It is transparent though, they still have the same motives and agenda, and the same tired old techniques. Find oil, make up an excuse to get the public on board, and go in all guns blazing and just take the oil. It's the American way.

'Takin our jooooobs!'

2009-09-25T02:57:00.000-07:00

Britain is a funny place, the majority of people living here bitch and moan about how shit it is but do nothing to get rid of the people who are making it shit. We tolerate mediocrity, which is evident in who we choose, or allow to run the country. Our freedoms are sodomised everyday, now even if we wanted to march on Parliament to oust the bumbling retarded fellow in charge, we can't because it is now illegal to march on Parliament. All passed under the guise of keeping you (them) safe from terrorists (you).

I understand that there are many, many egomaniacs out there who want to believe that terrorists want to kill them and their families in particular, but they don't. Sorry. What I don't understand is the level of hatred towards immigrants. I had some polish girls cleaning at my work, after the original cleaner left. They were a wee bit better at their job than the Scottish cleaner, miles hotter, and were clean themselves, whereas the cleaner before them literally stank out the room she stood in, and her breath smelled like she ate shit for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

The same redundant argument rages in bars across Britain, that immigrants are stealing jobs. That may be the case, but sometimes, as in the example in the last paragraph, British workers are fat, lazy and their 'we deserve' attitude stinks worse than Mary the cleaners rancid, shitty arse. The only immigrants that get an easy ride now are the ones who deep fry your dinner. In the 40's the Italians came over, they were hated after WW2. Until, that is, they bribed the public with fried fish. Then the fact that they were over here, taking our jobs and claiming our benefits didn't really matter anymore.

The BNP would have you believe that 'we' don't want non-Brits, especially if they have the audacity to be a non-white as well. That 'we' should stand up and take back 'our' country. If you think there is a problem in 'our' country, and that 'we' have to do something about it, then not only are you an idiot, you are also a racist. This is not your country, 'we' don't exist, it is a ploy by people like Nick Griffin to attract idiots who think their freedom is under threat by some poor bastard who has fled to Britain for freedom. Imagine, if you will, how shitty these countries must be if their citizens are willing to move here and put up with the hatred and violence posed by the BNP and it's supporters.

What the BNP does is prey on the weak minded, the people who genuinely believe that being born in a place makes it yours. If they were that concerned surely they should focus on getting rid of the unelected goof ball that is currently PM. Surely he is the real problem, him and Herr Griffin, and the tabloid media. All these things have created your hatred. Hatred is a good thing, but it is misused when aimed at an entire religion or race of people. Hate someone who has wronged you personally. Hate Nick Griffin, that fat racist fuck, surely we are smarter than that. We can't knowingly let someone like him gain popularity, he denied the holocaust. Seriously.

A bad day.

2009-09-23T12:40:00.001-07:00

There are many dangers when walking in a busy street, charity workers for starters. The type who try to make you believe that giving to charity is an obligation, and don’t seem to buy it when you tell them you can’t afford it. You are not a bad person if you don’t buy into every charity that hangs about the streets, there are few things as infuriating in walking the gauntlet of crusty hippy charity workers who act like your best mate. If you are cornered, and they are laying down guilt, don’t believe them, give what and when you can, and always read what you sign.

An umbrella is a strange reason to hate someone, but a lot of people who carry these things need to pay a little more attention. People who use umbrellas are rarely as attentive as the poor sod who has had to shield his eyes all day from the little pointy bits on the end of the spokes. A hood does the same job, it’s more practical and it doesn’t endanger the eyesight of strangers, your hair cut isn’t as important to anyone else as it is to you.

Prams. The people pushing the prams, and the babies in them are not really the problem, it’s the attitude that comes with having a pram that gets me. I am more than aware that I used to be a baby, which is just about the dumbest retort I have ever heard, when I bitched about prams to someone at work the other day they replied ‘you used to be one!’, I half expected the next thing out of their mouth to be ‘that’s just your opinion!’ People with no basic arguing skills tend to spout the obvious.
Not all pram pushers, but most have a sense of achievement and superiority that would embarrass even the most hardcore Smiths fan, and we all know one of those. They assume that your toes are part of the pavement and rarely apologise for rolling over them, they stop in the middle of the pavement to compare babies with some other pram pusher, or to show off their child to someone who is usually exaggerating how interested they are. The blocking of doors is unacceptable, find somewhere else to stand. You may think your child is the most important human being born since you were born, but trust me, it’s not important enough to block the door of subway.
The assumption that everyone wants to coddle your new born is what is commonly referred to as a bad assumption. Some people get mushy for real, they are generally broody women, who either can’t have kids or concentrated on their career and totally forgot to have one, known as the Jennifer Aniston effect. Everyone else doesn’t care that much, and will probably have forgotten the child’s name by the time they get home. Stories about what your baby does to amuse you is boring, it’s all just trivia about a kid in a pram that is preventing me from getting a subway sandwich.

It’s not the babies fault, it’s the parents. Kids don’t really get annoying until they are out of the pram and running around. Which reminds me of a story that I have never been able to decide if I am proud of or not. You decide. In my younger days of bussing tables I was attacked by a child of a young age, between 5 and 8 if I had to try and guess. The parents were your typical ‘Sunday lunch’ types, drinking to forget the tragedy that their life has become, an continuous circle of daytime TV and cheap wine to get drunk enough so that they can have scheduled sex sessions, in the missionary position, no oral, no passion, just going through the motions. The kid was running riot, and despite my warnings of hot food and drinks being a possible danger, the parents let him continue.
I was standing at the bar when this little bastard ran at me with tomato sauce all over his hands and put it all over my work clothes. I didn’t lose my temper, even though his parents laughed it off. I waited for my moment. I had cleaned off and went to watch some TV in the games room while waiting for the table to drink up and fuck off, when my opportunity presented itself, he came rushing into the pool room and started running around screaming, he was running so fast it was only a matter of time before he hurt himself. I plotted his downfall. As he came past me I stuck out my leg and tripped the little bastard. I didn’t plan it so he would fly through the air, face first into a wall. That was a bonus. He got up, no blood, no bruise, but he had learned a valuable lesson, he went back through and sat quietly with his parents until they were drunk enough to drive home.

The more I pour over that story, the more I realise I am incredibly proud of it.

Henry Hunter
Sept 09

If I read the Daily Mail

2009-09-11T07:28:00.000-07:00

I'm glad we live in a politically correct society, happy to be told what I can and can't say... and who I can or can't say it to, by our leaders. If they didn't tell us these things, then how would we know?

If these guidelines were not in place, and we had no leaders to give us constant updates on who we are offending with our free speech then our imaginations would run wild and people would be absolutely free to do and say as they please. Imagine the horror.

I look at countries across the world as shown by BBC news, and I thank my lucky stars that we live in a country where we elect our leaders, and no slack jawed impostor can steal the head job. I also thank God that we live in a Country where, as long as the Government say its ok, we can practice freedom of speech, but we have to remember that our free speech comes at a price and we should be careful not to insult any one.

One big problem we have in this country is drugs. Millions of people put illegal drugs into their systems everyday... who do they think they are? It is against the law, and lead to harder drugs. Maybe if they stopped smoking the pot they could read the laws.

I read in your paper that even a 'joint' of the pot can lead to not only harder drugs, but also crime and mental illness. Not only this but the money you spend on drugs such as marijuana goes directly to the terrorists who are using the money to kill our soldiers.

Since when was going to the pub and having a few drams so uncool? I have read a lot about drugs such as 'grass' and 'pills' to use their street names, and I think the effects sound so unappealing it makes me wonder what is going on inside the heads of these 'users'.

America, boycott this.

2009-08-31T03:49:00.000-07:00

In the days after the release of “The Lockerbie Bomber” or Abel baset Mohmed al-Megrahi as he was once known, America announced a boycott of all Scottish produce. This, of course, would be terrible for Scottish companies who rely on America to buy their wares, but it would be fairly problematic to the Yanks who, due to a lack of understanding of mercy and politics, have jumped on the Fuck Scotland Bandwagon.

Let’s pretend for a moment that the US Government would stand by anything they say, and not just say things for effect. They would have to give up all things related to Scotland, as anything less would be hypocritical. I think the American people who are shouting the odds about the release of a dying man don’t understand mercy and have no idea exactly what Scotland has contributed to the World, most couldn‘t point Scotland out on a map. What follows is a list of Scottish inventions, not everything, just the ones that would destroy America in the event of a total boycott.

Adhesive postage stamps
Anaesthetics
Artificial diamonds
Buicks
Chemical bonds
The decimal point
Documentary films
Encyclopedia Britannica
Fax machines
Golf
Halloween
Hollow pipe drainage
Hypodermic syringes
Iron bridges
Logarithms
Macadamised roads (Tarmac)
Microwave ovens
Breech loading rifles
Penicillin
Pneumatic tyres
Radar
Refrigerators
The Steam engine
Telephone
Thermos flasks
The Telegraph
Television
Parafin
Whisky (the good kind)
The US Navy.

I could go on, but these are the ones I feel would directly affect the American way of life. A Scot has been at the forefront of invention long before America was even conceived, if they wish to boycott all things Scottish I welcome them to it, but there should be no picking and choosing. Within months The Grand Ol’ US of A would be living in the dark ages. No phones, no TV, no fake diamonds for the plastic whores, no tyres and no shitty Buicks to drive on what used to be macadamised roads, now just dirt, no thermos flasks to keep your shite star bucks coffee warm, no fridges to store the microwave dinners you couldn’t cook anyway, disease running rampant due to lack of proper medicine, no Golden Gate or Brooklyn bridges, no radar, along with no US Navy to take up position against some poor country who happens to be sitting on oil, no good whisky to drown your sorrows and no fucking shortbread.

Don't take any guff from this swine flu.

2009-07-27T14:23:00.000-07:00

With all the fuss over swine flu in the press, it is no surprise that the British public are losing their damn minds. As a nation we are very susceptible to propaganda, and we love to be warned of new things to fear. In my life time I have had to suffer the panic of… Aids, MRSA, SARS, Bird flu, Swine flu, terrorists, Thatcher, the poor, the rich, drugs, drug takers, dead batteries in smoke detectors, Christmas trees going on fire, strangers with sweets, paedophiles, Y2K, war, Michael Jackson, immigrants, crossing the road, germs, viruses and many more. There is no wonder so many people buy the fear.

Sadly the majority of people in Britain read about these things in the tabloid press, instead of maybe reading about it in magazines or websites written by people who would know, doctors and scientists and such. Not Richard fucking Littlejohn. So instead of people understanding subjects, be it terrorists or illness, they receive incorrect info and spread it on like rancid butter, resulting in an edge to edge covering of propaganda. One of the reasons it is becoming such a big hit in the back catalogue of illnesses we have been threatened with is due to people not being able to distinguish between the cold and the flu. We men find this particularly difficult.

I have never been a fan of painkillers etc, I prefer to fight it out (in my mind it makes my immune system stronger). One thing I am definitely unsure of is when a crooked government offer a pill to help with some illness that they have so blatantly blown out of all proportion. If the idea of a government drugging people leads to you thinking I am some sort of nut then maybe you should read more, and I don’t mean The Daily Mail.

There is little chance of dying from swine flu, well as much chance as there is of dying from regular flu, and you shouldn’t worry about leaving the house because you will get it at some point. Of course I realise that by commenting on this I am opening myself up to ridicule in the event of me dying of swine flu, man I would feel silly. But since I don’t buy into the hype, and since no one reads my blog then I don’t need to worry about it at all. Remember that buses can kill you, but you still cross roads.

Time up.

2009-07-26T14:22:00.000-07:00

Years ago it was common practice for a qualified doctor to lobotomise someone because they were deemed crazy, too crazy for public interaction. Which would be fair enough, I guess, given the lack of knowledge and science. It is no bad thing in one respect, it always makes me laugh in movies, there is not many things in movies that crack me up quite as much as someone who is lobotomised, or faking it like Jack in ’Cuckoos nest’. Sadly, in real life, it means that many unfortunate thinkers were subject to frontal lobe removal, just for thinking that one day we will go into space, or something equally prophetic.

For many the idea of the World being round was laughable, and not just a passing laugh-off, but a deep heartfelt, hurt-your-sides-piss-your-pants laugh. And lets not forget the poor ladies who were subjected to the paranoid testing of the local townsfolk to determine if they were a witch. The logic involved in that is remarkable, drowning people to prove they are not a witch, it’s not like she could celebrate being let off with it. If I had been a judge in Salem my test would be… ‘Put this in your mouth and start sucking, if I come then you are not a witch…’ They really missed a trick, quite literally.

So, taking all these things into account, is it safe to assume that the people or person who invented time maybe miscalculated. Many places around the world take naps, or siestas in the afternoon. When I would spend my summers in Italy as a child we were forced to take naps, I always thought that it was so the adults could punch us in the face for free, but since growing up and seeing younger kids sent for siestas I have never been asked by a parent or guardian to join in any such activity. So either I got it wrong as a child, or they don’t like me enough to ask me to strike their sleeping child. Either way, gutted.

My point is that, in Britain, one of the things on the massive list of things that is wrong with this country is that we don’t siesta. We allowed Brown to sneak in unelected and uninvited and continue with Blairs raping of the Middle East, we now officially hate everyone, we fear the most ridiculous things, and in general, shit costs too much.

Why don’t we siesta? Why don’t we completely change the concept of time? It wouldn’t be that problematic. I’m sure at some point some over paid public school boy thought it would be impossible to get the people on side for two wars being fought simultaneously, but he managed it. Now look at us, we are not just killing innocent people in one Muslim country, but two. Aren’t we just amazing. Woop woop to us.

It is now the law that we cannot smoke inside, who would have thought that would catch on? Not me, but it did, and controversially, I think it is much better. I smoke, but I also work in a bar and I like to choose when I smoke. That law passed with little fuss. As did the abolition of happy hour. So why would it be so hard for the Government to say, ‘OK you now have 14 12 hour days, but you still only have to work 6 of those days.’ I know what you are thinking, why do you need the government to Ok it? I don’t, this is how I live and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Time, our current measurement originated in the Sumerian cities around 2000 BC. The Sumerian people had their fingers in many useful pies, their cities were the first to practice year round agriculture. These cities were in what is now Southern Iraq, in what was called the Cradle of Life, which if you know cool stuff like me, and/or can use Wikipedia then you will know that is a possible location for the origin of civilization. Which really means we should show it a little more respect. But that’s another matter.

2000 years is along time to stick to the original formula, look at religion and the religious, they change stuff all the time so that it fits in with their agenda for that particular era. Why not consider altering what we perceive to be a day, disregard seconds. I have never been seconds late for anything in my life.

letter one.

2009-06-11T10:05:00.000-07:00

To whom it may concern,

This country is in the midst of absolute chaos, we have an unelected Prime Minister who shows no sign of relinquishing his position, MPs who are making the rules to make their lives and the lives of their families comfortable while the public who pay for it live with the fear of defaulting on their mortgage, and to make the whole situation worse the people who can make the difference are becoming more and more downtrodden. When a country is ran so badly the blame can only be partially put on the people for voting in such idiotic leaders. The majority of the blame is placed firmly on the shoulders of these so called leaders. The office of Prime Minister was stolen by Gordon Brown, the fidgety dictator. I understand that he was not given an easy task by the evil, grinning fellator of Bush, Tony Blair who managed to destroy this country from the inside and out, joining the USA on their 'rape the world' tour in which America were the headliners, and we were the opening act. When the dust settled around the bombed schools and hospitals in Iraq we were left looking like the Italians when they hooked up with the Nazis. The only difference between us and Mussolinis black shirt fascists is that he joined the nazis so he wouldn't lose the war, where as in our situation there was no war, just the illegal massacre of thousands of innocent lives on both sides, young men and women in allied uniforms being killed escorting Halliburton trucks through the destroyed desert Country, and the natives of said country rising up against the invaders to defend their land. Some people would say Brown is unlucky, that his chance to shine was tarnished by the illegal war he inherited and the expenses row, I would say that he is unworthy of our sympathy, he has made no attempt in my eyes to put anything straight, from the lack of discipline within his party to his lack of respect towards us, the people who fund the political parties predilection to porn films, duck ponds, moat dredging, cocaine and expensive rent boys.

He has been able to thrive thanks to the general apathy and misplaced attention on behalf of the public. Once upon a time we would have been on the steps of Downing Street and Westminster making sure these conniving weasels never think about ripping us off again. Instead we sit in at nights watching reality TV, eating fast food and living according to the Governments creed, 'Stay in the house, don't question the leader. fear your neighbour and pay your taxes.' Only in hardcore porno films have I ever seen such a desire to be screwed in the ass, we take it and we act like it's ok, and when we let that go the little stuff has to slide with it, after all there can be few complaints from a populace who so openly, and frequently let their government sodomise them.

Our future is bleak, once we get rid of Brown we will most likely be stuck with Cameron, which I would see as worse. After all the only thing worse than Labour is Conservative, and of course, vice versa. David Cameron spends too much time trying to be cool, and one of the fellas, you may have been popular at whatever private school you attended, but to us you are a sad, desperate wannabe with no grounding in the real world. Of all the people who I could possibly consider to be the next PM Cameron is so far down the list that Tony Blair, Gordon Brown and Maggie Thatcher are all above him. Desperation is a stinky cologne David, learn that.

The major problem is that as time has moved on, and while the public has changed massively our politicians have not. They have become a relic of a bygone era, when private educations were a strong currency. That attitude is still prevalent today, only it is no longer what we need. Instead we need someone who is in touch with the people, someone who didn't have the hindrance of a blinkered upbringing within the confines of an expensive school. That is who makes up the voting majority, and our numbers will continue to swamp the upper classes. I mentioned before how the country is addicted to reality tv, and while the format is boring to many, it is tried and tested as a way to address the public, so why not adopt this process in voting. An X-factor style show in which people who might not have had the opportunities to get into politics, but have the right ideas and are motivated for the right reasons, get the chance to put themselves forward. If there was an elite, their time is up. The government is in our employ, we fund their nonsense lives, and when an employee gets out of line and steals from the bosses they get fired. It may not happen anytime soon but the complete abolition of the government is the only move left. Replacing one party with another has ran its course, and proven itself redundant. It is comparable to driving on flat tires, and when you finally notice that your car isn't performing to it's full potential, you replace them with equally flat tires and before you know it you are in exactly the same position wondering why

Henry Hunter.

The Obama Decpetion. Review.

2009-04-24T06:39:00.000-07:00

Alex Jones narrates his latest film 'The Obama Deception' like a speaker at a funeral, a trick he has employed through his other features, speak low enough and people will take you seriously, the only difference this time is he seems to have completely lost his way. The Obama Deception is so badly written and put together that it plays like it was made by a first year college student trying to be political. He sets out in this movie to destroy not only the President of the United States, but also the hopes and dreams of millions of people all around the world, with no concern of the consequences. To think that a country who basically viewed it as a crime to be black would ever have a black president is an achievement, regardless of who it is.

Alex Jones appealed to me originally because he seemed embarrassed to be from the same state, never mind continent as the former President, George W Bush. Now, however, It's Jones' opinion that the "elite" were in trouble, the black population were going to rise up and revolt, so they wheeled out the black candidate that, according to Jones sources, has been being groomed for 30 years. This was the first 'where is the proof moment' of this film, and sadly it wouldn't be the last. Jones has a knack of digging up rumours on news websites and passing them off as the truth, and the gullible fans who flock to his sites in their droves, lap it up and viciously attack people who disagree with their hero.

The many faces he got to appear in this piece of shit should speak for the integrity of it, Jesse Ventura, Gerald Celente (who is a trend forecaster), Joe Rogan, rapper KRS one and professor Grift from public enemy, who is convinced that taking over Africa is possible. Not one famous face saying anything of any substance, in fact it seems at times as if Jones is leading them, which he has done in the past. Where was Charlie Sheen, and the other Hollywood celebs that were fighting his corner 5 years ago.

The dreaded Bilderbergers were top of the tree in the opening act of this shitfest, and their secret meeting in the Westfield Marriot, where Jones was itching to be arrested for filming in the hotel two days before the meeting, in the hope it would give his film substance. He wasn't, in fact that whole sequence was a total anti-climax, and when the fire alarm sounds as Jones talks to a radio show on the phone, it comes across like one of his little lap dogs set it off, or maybe Alex himself, so it would maybe look like someone knew he was there, and so his filming might have a reason. And despite the hundreds of evil people descending upon the Marriot hotel, the only face captured on camera was a lady that could possibly have been The Queen of Netherlands, but it was hard to tell from that far away. Among the many people who were protesting this secret meeting we were introduced to an Investigative journalist who doesn't know the name of people he is quoting. It really starts to get awful around this point. To waste so much valuable running time on rich people having a secret meeting, that judging by the amount of people protesting wasn't so secret, seems like lazy film making to me. Sadly I still have most of this film to watch. More and more Jones comes across as madly paranoid, convinced he is being followed when a fat guy pulls in behind them at a grill (not the last place you would expect to see a fat guy), and despite no recorded encounters at the Marriot Jones is convinced that they are seconds away from being arrested.

The whole basis of this movie is that Obama has gone back on promises he made while trying to become President. What you have to remember is that men, especially in his game, will say just about anything to get just about anywhere, for example telling a girl what she wants to hear to get her into bed is essentially what Obama did, you are going to get fucked by your President either way, it might as well be by an articulate handsome gentleman, rather than the genuine mentally retarded chap who ran The US for 8 years, making you the laughing stock of the world. It shouldn't shock people anymore that a politician would lie to get into office, and if it does shock you then you probably shouldn't pay attention to politics. Politicians are comparable to Psychics, they both know fuck all, but are willing to take advantage of the poor fools who believe that they do. No one should believe that their Governments are anything other than gangsters and thieves, an honest man has no place in politics. Would you believe a stripper when she tells you 'you are the man', or do you just accept that she is hustling you. It doesn't matter, because either way you are getting hustled, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Jones still hammers his head against the wall of Democracy, and it amuses me that only Americans, and Countries that America has 'liberated' still talk about Democracy as if it exists. He still throws in the footage of 9/11 and Hitler in the same sequence because he is a unimaginative film maker, and because he has no other arguments, and 8 years since 9/11, still has no proof. I was an avid follower of Jones after seeing 'Rise of the Police state', but he is still saying the same things. This made me wonder, if I was a member of a shadowy group that ran the world, with enough money at my disposal to attack NYC (and I am not denying the possible involvement of some domestic agency, It's just I wasn't at any meeting about it, so don't know the truth) but if I was in that group, why would I not use my money and power to plant WMDs in Iraq, it would save a lot of hassle. Just think, I blow up a city, then use that as a catalyst to invade a small country, which I then use as a reason to invade a completely uninvolved Country because of WMDs, would it not make sense to then plant the WMDs in order to prevent any questions and hassles. Is it not possible, Alex, that while I am not ruling out some form of inside job at a lower level, maybe it was a terrorist attack by a foreign force, and that the real conspiracy started when Bush decided that while he was in the neighbourhood he would swing by Iraq and deal with daddies old pal Saddam? An action both Bush and Blair should be hanged for, that is one thing Jones and I agree on.

The glaring problem, which is being overlooked in favour of Obama-bashing is that America is the embodiment of over indulgence, and thus don't have a long shelf life. Their economic demise is less to do with shadowy bad guys pulling strings and more to do with the big roads for the big cars, and the diamond encrusted ass plugs for the half plastic humans who need to live in gated houses inside gated complexes and keep their German cars in their bomb proof garage in fear of the poor. Regardless of what he may or may not do while in office, the election of Barrack H Obama, a man of mixed race rising to the highest job in politics has filled a nation with hope, after 8 years under the rule of the worlds highest ranking idiot, they deserve it. It is selfish of Jones to disrespect those people by releasing such a terrible film, it does nothing to convince the "sheep" as his fans so graciously call them, all this film does is show that Alex Jones is a egomaniac with no talent for film making, who is driven by the plaudits of followers he has amassed, followers with no opinions of their own, just the regurgitated fantasies of Alex Jones.

An open letter to the fans of Alex Jones

2009-03-22T08:35:00.000-07:00

A few years ago my cousin called me up for a hang out, when I arrived at his house we went to his attic; our regular place to hang out, we rolled a joint and put on a dvd. He had a special one for the day he said, Alex Jones, Martial Law: Rise of the police state. It was my first foray into the world of Alex Jones, his message was simple and terrifying, act now or be doomed to a life of slavery. He showed us what a lot of us knew already that G.W Bush was an idiot, and a tyrant. He detailed what he believed as the truth behind 9/11, as that particular event was still fairly fresh in my mind and still talked about on the news, it got me hooked and I spent my days trawling his websites in order to educate myself on the ins and outs of the new world order, the 4th reich, skull and bones and a host of other subjects. During the years I spent talking to people about these things I was subjected to the usual bullshit about being a 'conspiracy theorist' or 'conspiracy nut', until people got fed up with Bush and towards the end of his reign people would start spouting the very 'nonsense' I had been telling them a couple of years before.

Now Jones has come out with a new film called 'The Obama Deception', which does what it says on the tin, and sets out to destroy Obama. The current president has only been in office a matter of months and so far he seems to be doing an ok job, and I feel that Jones is profiting from the weak minded 'individuals' that subscribe to his sites, who call others sheep while themselves following the word of a man who knows just as much as everyone else. I still admire Jones in a huge way, he takes the fight to the establishment and has been arrested countless times for his troubles, including once for simply asking then Governor of Texas G.W Bush a question. My issue is the people who post on his sites, Jones' ethos in his early films, particularly 'Rise of the Police state', were that you take the information and make up your own mind, and then pass on the word. I'm pretty sure he didn't stipulate that you should be an asshole about it, which is exactly what I would call the people who post things like "You know not of what you speak. Please go back to NBC, CNN, FOX, ABC, etc. Your mind is not ready for new information." What these people fail to understand is that most people care not for the rantings of a select few, they have real worries, kids, bills, jobs etc. They are not worried about what may or may not happen in 2012 or any other year for that matter. Maybe that is a bad thing, maybe not, but the point is Alex Jones preaches freedom of speech, free thinking and the right to decide. A lot of his fans do not, they are narrow minded idiots with no apparent thoughts of their own, who think that by watching his films and reading his words, then regurgitating them with malice in other peoples faces, they are helping the cause. They could not be more wrong, they represent the opposite side of the ignorant coin that people like Bill O'reilly adorn, and attacking someone you have never met within the security of your bedroom or the anomynity of the net is not brave, nor is it helping.

I realise that by attacking fans of Alex Jones I would have to include myself, and I do to an extent. Except when I grew up I realised shouting debatable "facts" to people was not getting me anywhere, and that offering the available information to people who showed an interest in the subjects was a far better way to approach it. It is important to keep in mind while addressing the subject that there are some people who will never give a shit, for what ever reasons. These people are not your target audience, stop banging your head against the wall and learn which fights you can win. If you have strong feelings about anything then stop wasting your words by posting on the comments page of some website, learn both sides of the argument (yes that means actually paying attention to the dreaded news networks and not just dismissing them outright) and form your own ideas and arguments, then put your words together and forward that to as many people as possible. That is how to talk to people, if you find that doing such a task is too difficult and you can't form an opinion without the help of Alex Jones then you have no place in any argument or debate, especially one of such stature as the 9/11 debate, the prospect of a totalitarian takeover, or the sullying of Obamas name before he has had a chance to prove that all American politicians are not illiterate dumbfucks with criminal tendencies like George W Bush, and the entire Bush family.

I continue to read Alex Jones, and will always pick out like minded individuals and point them in the direction of his sites, and other sites for that matter. You have to remember that if you approach someone while acting like a dick, start calling them sheep, and telling them that they are asleep etc, it will probably result in said person telling you to fuck off, and they will never read these sites at risk of turning into a cunt like the one you came across as.

The Twodayer.

2009-03-06T03:57:00.000-08:00

I realised on Sunday morning, after reading the papers while waiting to be picked up, that I was in the wrong business. If you want to make money these days then you better be a polititian or the head of a bank, they are the only people in the position to steal money and get away with it. Hell if you are PM you can kill people, thousands of people, and not only get away with it, but paid well to boot. There is certainly little money to be made in the music industry. When I was finally picked up I wondered if what they say is true, if everyone really is on the breadline, will people venture out to gigs on a sunday and monday night? I certainly hoped so. Myself, Fergus and Stu hit the road, Dragon was not with us as he had business in London for his other project, so we arranged to meet him in Milton Keynes. Before that we had to negotiate our way down the Country. What started as a leasurely Sunday avo drive quickly turned into a race against time to make soundcheck, and to prevent my bladder from exploding all over the front seats/windshield/friends. We made it in time, dispite being late, there was alot of technical dificulties holding up proceedings. I did manage to piss for atleast 3 minutes solid however. The venue was a place called The Crauford Arms, or something like that, it was big and the show went well, dispite the failing P.A and the stained carpets. We ended up having a rather big night after the show, and the landlord let us drink until 4 or there abouts. The place was grotty but the drink is well priced and you don't worry about making a mess, because there already was one. I filled my system with many different ciders, pear, strawberry, regular and the new flavour walkers. Which, by the way, are all shit, none deserve to win, the fish and chips are awful, only two things should smell and taste like that and neither of them are crisps.
By the time we retired up to the bedrooms we had gained two new room mates in the shape of Mac and Scat, who bunked on the floor of Dragon and Gus' room. Later myself and Spider would try to share a single bed to watch the news updates on the Oscars, but by lights out I had to bail on to the floor, the bed was just that little bit too small and the close proximity of my face to the sharp corner of the sideboard had me worried about falling out of the bed. When we woke up I was not too shocked to find out that the hotel didn't have a shower, just a bath. At least it wasn't a tin bath like in the westerns, I was alomost positive it would be. If you ever stay there I would suggest always wearing shoes when walking about on the carpets, that's all I'm saying. As everyday tour tasks go, the early morning load out and waking Dragon up the morning after the night before are the two biggest, sadly both needed done on this morning, me and Spider took care of it, then Gus, like our American cousins, joined in for the final push. We eventually woke Dragon up, ofcourse all the packing was finished, he was suprised to find out there was no shower. We got some good hot rolls and escaped to London, with me cosying up to the gear in the back of the transit.

Day two was a first in Sucios touring days, a press day. First stop was to record an interview for the Dan Carter rock show, not with Dan, but with the lovely Nan. We were met there by Jon from the label, who made sure we got from there to the next interview which was a video interview for an online magazine of sorts, if my memory serves correctly. Everyone was phone mad during that interview, except Spider who didn't seem to get any love from his phone. Even I got a call, and I never have calls. The Riff was on the blower trying to find us, which only served to show just how little I know about London, and how little I pay attention to my surroundings. The Riff was in Kentish town heading to the venue, and it turned out we were in Hackney, that's what the giant fucking sign above my head said anyway, which was pointed out to me when I asked a passer by where exactly I was. When we finally finished with the press, we made our way back to the van, where I finished off the amazing Costco sandwiches I brought with me, really incredible sarnie, cheese and parmaham, shaped like a massive bagel, it had lasted since leaving Ayr the day before. The band were very excited about playing the Bull and Gate again, the Promoter Michael is easily the best young promoter in London, the complete polar opposite of a certain terrible promoter from a gig in our not too distant past. Yet again he made sure as many people knew about the show, that coupled with Sucioperros heavy rep pretty much guaranteed a full house. Anyone who was there will know how good a set it was, for those who couldn't be there you missed a big one, the level of excitement in the room for the duration of the set was palpable. The crowd vibed the whole way through, at one point it got a little explicit in the front row. If you can make your girl wet while standing at the front of a sucio crowd with the sound of fancy new guitars wailing and cymbals crashing, and the acidic smell of the shirts worn by the band then congrats, you are a true swordsman. After the show and the load out, we made moves for the travelodge which was located somewhere in London, it got a bit mad in there, as Dragon was the only one of us who was more than a little pissed, we decided to leave him on his own in the room while we went out for munchies, it turned out we only had to go downstairs to the vending machine, so were only away for five minutes, but in that space of time he had managed to get into his Duke get-up and scare us half to death upon re-entering the room. Being confronted with a half naked Scotsman in riding boots, trousers and zorro style mask is enough to put the fear of God in any man. The credit crunch finally hit me on the long journey back from London, and I completely ran out of cash, well, it's easier to blame the crisis than it is to blame my inability to keep money, and my addiction to spending. The credit crunch doesn't seem to have made much of a difference to my life, I still have a job, I still have money in my bank, which enables me to travel around the country with my favourite band. If that ever changes, to no fault of mine, I will drag our unelected, blind, fat, fidgety fuck of a PM to a Sucio show and watch his glass eye explode. When unelected dictators run other Countries, we kill them, so why not here? Forza Sucio.

The Return of The Duke.

2009-03-03T03:07:00.000-08:00

There are somethings that will always be terrifying, watching The Shining in the dark, Nazi Zombies, both in real life and on Call of Duty, Alexandra Burkes ego, and The Marmaduke Duke live show. The venue hosting the first show of this week long tour, their first in three years or so, was The Bongo Club in Edinburgh, if it wasn't for the terrible, highly incompetant bar staff it would be a decent wee place, they even let us smoke in the dressing room. Well, not exactly let us, but they only noticed at the end of the night and told us it was non smoking, to which we all made out it was brand new information, 'no smoking you say? sorry, we didn't know.' So Edinburgh priced drinks and incapable bartenders aside The Duke took the stage to a hell of an ovation. Led on by a six foot funky disco Errol Flynn in a Don Johnson cast off, the band were cloaked, masked and feathered. A large amount of patrons had also made the effort, top hats, capes and weapons littered the crammed venue, I felt under dressed with my slacks, jumper and handsome face. The set thundered into life with the exceptional False and Cinematic, quite possibly their best song, and from there it was a collection of their best cuts from both joints released thus far, sadly Je Suis Un Funky Homme was missing, but you can't have it all I guess. During the insane 'Demon' the poor chap next to me looked completely befuddled, I pictured what was going on inside his head, and from what I could gather he was a little girl with pigtails in downtown Baghdad, crying in the corner amidst a carpet bombing. It was around this point in the show when the bar closed, there are few things as defeating as someone closing a bar shutter right in your face, especially at ten o'clock at night. Just another reason not to return to this potentially good venue.

Marmaduke Duke are in your face, gloriously so, they care not for your ear drums nor your feelings, they will not play an encore and they will remain silent during the breaks. All together it is a very surreal experience, and with so much music around these days it takes something special to stand out, and when the band is made up of two of Scotlands best bands there is little doubt that it will be anything but unique, intricate and completely ferocious. The Atmosphere spent as much time in the crowd as he did on the stage, wearing a mask that is best described as terrifying, combined with his beard and hair it was what nightmares are made of. The Dragon, hooded, bearded and vibed did what he knows best and rocked the shiznit out of the songs, the two drummers and the bass were hidden from my sight because I seem to get shorter at every gig I attend, and it didn't help that one guy in front of me was also so fat that he eclipsed the stage. He moved, however, when I leaned forward and told him they were giving away free deep fried pizza and chocolate dipping sauce at the front door. 'The Duke' will be on tour all week, playing such venues as The Deaf Institute in Manchester, a social club in Leeds, gay haven Heaven, and even gayer... Glasgow Art School, it's clear that they are not an average band. Their outfits could influence people either way, if it wasn't for the music, a collection of some of the finest riffs, beautiful melodies and incredible lyrics. Some bands would do well to take note. Image is all very well, but if you don't have the songs to back up the image then, thankfully, you will dissapear as quickly as you arrived.

a fool and his gold.

2009-02-27T08:50:00.000-08:00

February 14th, a day chosen by both card companies, and hard line Roman Emperors, as a day of public affection and death. That may sound a bit over the top, but the death I refer to is not that of a convinently named Roman, who fucked his way to an early martyrdom. It is the death of romance I speak of. I can be a romantic, I enjoy cooking for the fairer sex, aslong as I get laid for my troubles, so I guess I am not that romantic, certainly not in the bed anyway. I do have a good grasp on what is romantic though, and a great detector for shit deals. Cards with tacky, impersonal drivel printed on the inside are not romantic, neither are teddy bears which hold hearts, nor over priced roses. Romance is spontaineous, in the day of St Valentine, when he was sent to prison to await his death, he was "friendly" with the jailers daughter, and sent her love notes signed "love, your Valentine", and thus a day of over the top consumerism was born. The idea of having one day out of 365 dedicated to letting your other half know you love them is a complete contradiction surely. There is no romance there, do something you never do today, don't buy tacky shit to show your feelings, hallmarks words mean nothing to your beau. Cook a meal, write a song or poem, even oral sex or rimming would suffice, nothing says I love you like a tounge in the ass.
I would really love to see some cards with poems that guys would really say, "roses are red, violets are blue, we are together because I am afraid to die alone... and so are you." Sure, it doesn't share the same flow as the original, but still. "postie postie with angina, help me score some hot vagina." Classic. I will not be sending any cards, I haven't since 1994, I think you should stop sending valentines cards when you grow up, leave it at school when people actually care about it. If not you are in danger of competing with your children. I may sound like a Valentines scrooge, I just hate idiotic holidays, I work in a hotel/bistro and Valentines day is fully booked, come the evening we will be filled to the rafters with lovers, people feeling the pressure to splash the cash, expensive wines, three courses, I love it, we will make a fortune, idiots. In the last few days I have taken more phonecalls looking to book on Valentines night than I have since the New Year, and I take great pleasure in informing them that we are fully booked, and that maybe they should have booked weeks ago. They will no doubt end up exchanging cards in McDonalds eating the special valentines burger they will probably have on, complete with free love heart necklace. That is what love is. Remember that.

the next generation of world leaders

2009-02-27T08:49:00.000-08:00

Some times things just don't seem to get to you, you spend most of your life pissed off, many things contributing to it, your work, your girl, your own actions. Sometimes it just doesn't bother you. I woke up today and I wasn't pissed off, which is very strange because I'm constantly angry as fuck. It lasted most of the day, then I ruined it by doing something extra dumb, I read the papers. I have no idea why, maybe boredom. I read about a 13 year old kid who has recently fathered a child to a 15 year old girl, now there is a fair chance that the result of this pregnancy will be as dumb as both parents, and most definately a benefit baby, which is just what we need just now, but there are more 'dads' coming out of the woodwork demanding a dna test, which shows how dumb they are, no care that they could be done for statutory rape, although by the sounds of it they would need to pull in the whole town, as this slag has a track record to say the least. I wondered what her parents reaction would be, they will suffer to, they are still in six year and they are already grandparents, I jest. I hope. These kind of stories make you wonder if China had it right, sterilise the bastards, I'm pretty sure this kid won't invent anything or cure any diseases, it will probably apply for Xfactor. These people have no business sharing oxygen with the rest of us, sure the legal age of consent it ridiculous, as most laws are regarding anything fun in this country, but we can't stand for this kind of nonsense, the kid will probably have sired atleast another two kids by the time he is legaly finished at school. Maybe it's just me showing my age, but what ever happened to childhood, climbing trees, playing football. Now it's all sex and drink and indie music, in my day we listened to the beatles and told girls to fuck off. I hope every child involved in this debacle gets jailed, steralised and have their little benifit babies taken off them. Stitch up her vag, its ruined now anyway, imagine being a 15 year old mother, not only is your childhood done for, but you will have the baggiest vag in your school. Congratulations, you are all idiots, and I wish you nothing but bad things from here on in, you bring down the name of the rest of the human race. That is quite a feat.

Two girls, one disgusting love of shit in common.

2009-02-16T10:36:00.000-08:00

In an earlier piece of writing, titled 'Violence in your childrens face', I stated that people who have never played violent games, but insist on bitching about them was on par with me talking about 2 girls 1 cup, as I hadn't seen it. Well now I have. I got curious, all the reaction videos had me believe nothing was that disgusting and they were all in on the same joke. They were not, and there absolutely is something that disgusting. It took me ages to find it, I will post the link at the bottom, but I would suggest not watching it unless you have the urge to be disgusted. I doubt I will ever look at a girls asshole the same ever again. A few things struck me as being odd regarding the now famous video, the first was that the girls seemed to really really enjoy it, if you don't believe me you should watch until the end when one of the girls has to jam her fingers in her throat to be sick. Which is odd because if I was in that room, not even in the scat, just the room, I certainly wouldn't have to prompt the vomit. The next odd thing is the decor, why is there a plant pot on a washing machine in the middle of what appears to be a bare living area, not as fucked up as 'why are they shitting in a cup', but odd none the less. Also, did it not freak everyone else out how much the girls with the bad eye make up shit in that cup, almost a full pint I would say, I didn't see it coming, I always assumed that girls just dropped pellets, like a rabbit, but this one shit like a true champion.
I would love to know how much wedge they got for it, if any, maybe they owed a gangter some cash and that was the payment, maybe they just love it. One thing for certain, I doubt I will ever be able to eat chocolate mousse or ice cream with out flashing back to 2 girls 1 cup, easily the most unbelievably disgusting video I have ever seen. Since it went live there has been an influx of 'reaction videos', where everyone from 'Stewie' to someones grandmaw watch it and have their reactions taped, they are worth a watch, I wouldn't do it because I don't want everyone I know to see me jack it to scat movies. I said it was disgusting, I didn't say it wasn't hot. It is so bad that it is almost impossible to watch it for free on the net, and you can see anything for free on the net, the net wouldn't accept it, the video running time is shorter than the time I looked for it and it nearly made me sick, and I knew it would. However,

http://www.thatsphucked.com/post/2007/11/2-girls-1-cup-video.aspx

Watch it if you have the balls.

Nic Cage Vs Tom Cruise.

2009-01-27T10:14:00.000-08:00

There is no stopping Tom Cruise. He is, after all, with the help of his merry band of Scientologists, "the authorities". In a way I am glad he told us, because for years I just assumed the police were. According to The Cruiser, in a situation such as a car crash only a scientologist can be of help. He doesn't really give a reason - but when talking religion, reason is not really necessary. I will point out at this point that this is not a pop at Scientology - as religions go, it's definitely the most interesting. Make no mistakes - this is most definitely a pop at Tom Cruise. He annoyed me a long time before I had even heard of L. Ron Hubbard, thetans or Axioms. I would never openly question another faith; if you want to live your life with one eye on the finish line, then do it, but don't push your shit on other people, and other people won't question you. Personally, I will find you when, and if, I need you.

After all the bullshit is put to the side, all I am left with is a snivelling, closet dwelling, angry little man - Tom Cruise. I really, really don't like Top Gun - which I will make an example of - I really don't like any of his films, but I class this as the absolute worst he has to offer, and it completely baffles me - I could watch it over and over, and never see anything good about it. Maybe if I liked the taste of dick I would appreciate it more, but as it stands I don't like Tom Cruise, I don't like Top Gun, and I don't like the idea of finding out what dick tastes like.

Nicolas Cage, on the other hand, is a gloriously over the top action star - had he been in Top Gun, I would watch it every night, because he doesn't turn every film he is in into homo-erotica. Cage is the quintessential action hero - like Willis back in the day - one with which to relate. I imagine enjoying a drink and drug binge with him, and when I pass out, he would rob my wallet and watch, then try and set fire to my teeth, while Cruise, when presented a handsome, drunk and unconscious man such as myself, would go straight past the wallet and watch, and straight for the cock.

Nic Cage, I Salute you sir.

Letter to The Guardian

2009-01-27T10:10:00.000-08:00

I replied to a article in the guardian last week, as it seems they won't be printing it, i will post it here.

Why no-one else is mourning the ruined market.

I am glad Michael Hann, and his undoubtedly lovely wife, don't care about Camden burning down(12/02/08) - because if the locals don't care, then why should anyone else? The only real tragedy is that the flames didn't dance through the whole miserable little town. Although I am sure if they did, the dance would be a very tight trousered, indie affair.

Hann uses the word 'we' like he is on the council of cool cats in Camden; as if he speaks for his minions like some sort of overlord, whose job it is to look individual (like all the other individuals in Camden), listen to the new three-chord wonderband, and decide on a day-to-day basis which pub is cool to hang out in. In his hugely entertaining, yet unbelievably hypocritical tirade against Goths, cheap rubbish on stalls, wannabe indie kids on the look out for drugs, and, let's not forget, the "sedated cattle" remark, it is almost as if he thinks there is anything even remotely interesting about this place - there isn't really, unless you are trying to buy a rasta hat, thick rimmed sunglasses, or, of course, drugs. A lot of people in Camden want you to buy drugs.

So, Michael, the lovely little town you call home is the 'drug theme park' you mentioned, and it always will be, as long as the cool Camden-ites continue to flaunt their drug use publicly. In my experiences of Camden, it's a town full of wannabes (you included Mr. and Mrs. Hann), a sorry bunch of faux-bohemians desperately trying to cling onto what Camden once was - a place for artists, down-and-outs, and burnt-out hippies to hang out; no iPods, no forced image, just the vibe. Now, the closest thing you get to vibe in Camden is people sitting in their flats smoking grass, listening to Bob Marley, blissfully unaware of how tragically cliché they have become.

Sports and games

2009-01-27T10:08:00.001-08:00

Big sporting events always grab the attention of the public. Every summer at this time, Wimbledon week, people go crazy, if you are a tennis player all year round, you dread this tournament because every posing asshole is out on court with their useless expensive equipment all desperately trying to hit a serve like federer, or wearing knee length shorts and tank top in an attempt to look like Nadal. Newsflash, even he looks like a tit, so what do you think you look like when you keep hitting the net, look at your strings all you want asshole, a little rubber shock absorber stuck to your ’Wilson’ racket won’t help your pathetic form. On the up side, at least these people are trying to play a decent game, but when the Golf Open comes around, every douche bag who ever went to their local Crazy Golf digs out their dads pringle gear and go about dressing like a prize cunt. Stripy polo shirts and waterproof tank tops don’t go, idiot, what made you think they did? I have never fully understood the attraction, or the point of watching golf, taking in a round is different, and sometimes enjoyable, but to stand around a golf course waiting for some guy to maybe stop near you to hit a ball, just seems like a massive waste of the time you have on this earth, its not like going to watch live football, or boxing or anything like that, you are literally standing in a field waiting for a guy to walk past you, and paying for it.
As you may have noticed sports kind of annoy me, more the fans and players than the actual sports, but there are rare exceptions, people who excel at their sport with true talent, not people like David Beckham, sure he can score free kicks occasionally, but when it comes to beating a man, the only time you can say he does that is when he is wanking off his ‘wife’. True sportsmen are those with the personality to match the skill, Muhammad Ali, Gazza, John McEnroe to name a few. Unless you are one of those people I don’t want to know your sporting achievements, because in everyday life, to us , the regular Joes, there is only one game that matters, one true sport, Pro Evo on the playstation 2. The closest any one of us will ever get to sporting great status is at this game. People, most of whom don’t know any better, or are terrorists, claim that Fifa is better, but as I say, that game is only played by idiots and terrorists.
As any real man will tell you, not much stings quite like finishing bottom of the league against your mates, you could be dumped by your girl, punched in the face, fired from your job or flicked in the nuts, but none of them destroy you in quite the same way as a heavy defeat at Pro Evo. It can truly break a man. It is quite simply the greatest sports game on the market, and if you don’t play it, for whatever reason, not owning the game, not owning a computer, not having friends, or maybe you are an idiot or a terrorist and you prefer Fifa, whatever, you have my sympathy, because its not just a game, its sitting with your mates getting wrecked, its deciding what team to go, its landing on Real Madrid on a random choice, its sticking one it the top bag from 30 yards, it’s the look on everyone’s face when they have been defeated, its going to your bed a champion, even if it is only known to your mates. Its when the hot curvy chick in the grey skirt suit is handing out medals/hand jobs to your team, when you can finally sit back and relax, the hours you just put in were worth it. There’s the feeling you want, and you are the only one in the room feeling it, everyone else is completely and utterly fucking depressed.

Violence in your childrens face.

2009-01-26T13:34:00.000-08:00

I found myself hiding in a doorway in the middle of Times Square in Manhattan. I have just killed alot of people, I needed to, well I didn't need to mow that last lot down with the car that was more of an accident, contrary to what my commitment to speed and accuracy would have you believe. I have half a clip left for my desert eagle that I stole from some fool I wasted, and around twenty bullets for my M4, the fully automatic jewel in my vicious crown. I have a knife aswell, but I doubt I will get close enough to use it. There is an enemy rounding the corner to my left, I'm hiding in what used to be the WWE store ( for anyone who remembers it) I'm on my own, all these clueless pedestrians are no help at all. There is an abandoned, slightly mangled car infront of me. "Fuck it" I shout as I confront the approaching enemy, blasting him in the chest with every bullet in my handgun before diving into the car and boosting out of there. In my haste to kill the guy I alerted the police, two minutes of excessive speeding in this fine automobile I stole and I had lost them, and was now focused on my next kill. After the evasive driving classic of four lefts, I ended up back in Times Square which was now a full on war zone. I still had no bullets, but I did have a car, so I went for them, slamming people into walls, throwing them into the air and putting their cars off the road. I bailed from my car, which was now in flames, luckily I walked straight into a cache of weapons, I now had an AK47 and I used it with precision, what followed was a scene of such graphic horror, pure rage, fear and excitement all in the space of a minute, it gets the blood flowing. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. You see I am sitting on my mates couch, the city I am laying seige to is Liberty City. Home, for the time being, to the most ruthless and cold blooded killers on XBOX Live.

Grand Theft Auto is an incredible game, each one has been great, and each one has arrived with a barrage of disapproval from the more conservative voices, teachers, religious types, desperate polititions etc. "Violent games breed violent people" one such person said in The Daily Mail, a bastion of fearmongering among the British people. Maybe it does, I am not here to deny that, there is every chance that it does make angry young loners do crazy shit, the bottom line is that I don't care what effect it has on your children. I only care about me getting to play this game. My problem comes from the proposed banning of games such as Grand theft Auto, Manhunt or Bully, pretty much every Rockstar release. If you want these games banned then you had better do your homework and not just recite something some clueless pansy said in the news, and who has never set foot in Liberty City, Vice City or San Andreas. Unless you have sat and tried to play these games then you have no place even in the outskirts of the conversation about computer violence let alone dictating what people can and can't play. It would like me giving a seminar on Two Girls one Cup, sure I have heard about it, know what goes on, and have witnessed people reactions to it, but I haven't seen it, and quite frankly don't want to, but I certainly wouldn't involve myself in a conversation regarding the ins and outs of it.

GTA4 is a masterpiece, nothing short, as are the Call of Duty franchise. As a child of the 80's I grew up on shitty 2d platforms, and watched gaming evolve into all out, realistic war. Rockstar games gave us that. What have it's critics given us? Leading the charge was NY GOV Eliot Spitzer, a man of morals, who fulfilled the office of New York Governer with pride. Oh, wait. No he didn't, he resigned over an incident with a hooker. I guess paying for sex is good, and violent video games are bad. Although prostitution is illegal and violent games are not, so I don't really know, maybe we should ask Spitzers wife and kids, they should know the details

Sucioperro tour diary november 08.

2009-01-25T10:21:00.000-08:00

Friday 14th November 2008, I arrived at a flat in Ayrs high street, around 10:20, ten minutes earlier than planned. I woke up the three fools staying there, Fergus (the drummer), Max (the sound guy) and Stu (the bass player). After hanging around a while, watching TV, we gathered all the makings and and packed the van. One more to pick up, some might say the most important part, well, he might say it, John (the guitar/vox) he greets us with a smoke in one hand and an excellent looking bacon roll in the other. After re-packing the van and a stop at Carlindas on Ayrs main street for her excellent hot dogs and stovies, we are off. First stop Sunderland, the venue is called the Independant, it turns out we have been there before. The trip down was lively, the chat ranging from cheeseburgers to bukakke, via double anal double vaginal fisting, and why not.
Lack of a sat nav means we must rely on Iphones, which gets us there eventually, but not without trouble. When we finally got there was when I realised we had been here before, most cities and towns end up looking like each other after a few tours, anyone who has been to The Independant in Sunderland will know that it's a fucking hellish load in/out, straight up stairs, it's in my top 3 worst places to load, along with the Louisiana in Bristol and upstairs at The Garage in London, where you have to load in through a hole in a wall. Badly thought out each and everyone of them. Despite the poor turn out at Sunderland the night went well, Sucioperro dominated the stage. The crowd, which seemed to be mainly made up of girls of questionable age in ridiculously small outfits, danced the night away. After a flawless load out, and a trip to Greggs, which we were pleased to find out was open until four in the morning, we were on the road en route to a Travelodge somewhere.
A sad thing happened to the country a few months ago when smoking was banned. Travelodge decided, in their infinate wisdom, to make all rooms non smoking, and our room was no where near the front door. Some action had to be taken. There is an old trick, sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't, but it is always worth a shot. All you need is a pair of socks and some electrical tape. You pull both socks over the smoke detector and fasten them to the ceiling with the tape, hey presto - a smoking room. It sounds illegal, and it most likely is, but when we checked in we were informed that there was a prowler on the loose flashing his cock at anyone who would be unfortunate enough to bump into him. If the choices are breaking the law by interfering with a smoke alarm and smoking in a non smoking building, or hanging around out in the cold fearing a flashing, there is no question. It may have been cold outside, but hell, I wanted to see this infamous cock. I jest, indoors always wins, but we were confronted by the fuzz when hanging out the window smoking, it was a close one, but I think they were more worried about meeting the flasher. That night finished with us watching quiz call and wondering how the hell they can get away with all the obscure answers.
The next morning started with a bang, everyone being woken up by the noise of a plastic water bottle being squeezed within an inch of it's life, emptying it's contents into the mouth of a very parched drummer. There was no point trying to get back to sleep at that time, well I got another hour, but it was pointless. After overpriced coffee from the services, we were packed, checked and on the road by one o'clock. The journey which followed was one of victory for this writer as he demolished the three other people who were awake, at the movie game. Someone names an actor, or actress and then you have to name the films they have starred in, which sounds easy, and it is, but it passes the time and I won, and thats all that counts. We made a quick pit stop for pissing, when we saw the first hitchhiker of the tour, his sign said south, just south. We saw him at the next services aswell, which was south of the last one, and I realised that this guy probably had nowhere in particular to go, just south. It's doubtful that he was heading to see his wife and kids in his fancy house, because he looked like he would have murdered them and burnt the house down if they existed, needless to say we did not offer him a lift. The next stop was Tunbridge Wells, home of the famous Max Dighton, AKA The Commodore, AKA Sucioperros sound guy. The venue there is called The Forum, and it is famous on the toilet tour due to it being a former public toilet, in certain corners it still smells like one. There were more people at this show than the last, and there was even an older lady, the mother of one the support acts, with her fingers placed firmly in her ears fr the duration of sucios set, which is a great advert for a rock band if ever I have seen one. After the show we headed back to Casa De Max, where what can only be described debauchery took place, ending in the early hours, with music ranging from Oceansize to Hall and Oats providing the entertainment, when it could be heard over the snoring beast in the next room, known as the Spider, I would have found it funny but I had to sleep next to the bastard. Sunday afternoon arrived to no applause, with The Dragon utterly regreting his decision to drink Jaegermeister and scotch until seven in the morning, demanding bacon and a coffin before scuttling back to the couch he chose to die on. Spider made up for the snoring by braving the elements and hiking to Ye Olde Sainsburys, and bringing forth a bounty of meats and produce to be fried and consumed by the ravenous knights around the rectangular table. Once fed and washed, we were once again on the move, heading for London's Kentish Town, The Bull and Gate, where you enter the venue through the gents. Not knowing this, I went in to scope the sitch when we arrived and the landlord told me where the entrance to the venue was, as if entering through the gents was so obvious, either that, or I misread his matter-of-fact attitude for pure hatred of me, and anyone who isn't coming into his pub to buy drink. Either way, there is a venue where you enter through the gents. The strangest thing happened at this show, I very rarely enjoy London shows, It's a tough City. This time was different, being a merch guy has it's advantages, the main advantage is getting to watch your favourite band play every night, and it gets better on a night like this because the crowd got their moneys worth with Sucioperro playing the best show so far on this tour, ripping London a new one, so to speak. It was a lesson in live music, and the 50 people lucky enough to be witness to it realised it was pretty special. So, for once I didn't want to leave London. Don't get me wrong, I still hate the place, but on this night I would be willing to stay. Unfortunately we had a long drive, a few hours north, tomorrow was Edinburgh, we drove half way and stopped at a travelodge. On the way we watched Raiders of the Lost Ark, then argued about the ranking of the other Indiana Jones movies, it got heated. We checked in, did the old sock on the smoke detector trick, settled in for the night and watched quiz call, still wondering how the hell they get a way with such obscure answers, until we all crashed out. Well, we didn't all crash out, certain lead singer/guitarists couldn't sleep, and didn't want everyone else to. Monday started with a scare, my alarm went off at the arranged time of 11am, however, somehow I had managed to set it to a volume level usually only found on an old persons TV set. This was the moment I came closest to shitting myself on this tour. I regained my composure and got myself together and went to the services for a coffee. I was joined by Stu and Max, the other two took another 100 hours to get out to the van, they eventually showed and we tooled up and took off, but not before I had to go and salvage a pillow stolen from the previous travelodge and accidentally left in this one. If I have learned anything while on tour it's that Travelodge staff don't give a fuck, it's what set them apart from the other places, they are really cool and don't mind if you party until 8 in the AM, unlike Holiday Inn, which is a company of dicks, the Adolf Hitler of the cheap hotel world. The next leg of the drive is a 5 hour slog, we passed some of the time with a few rounds of 'movie game', which I ruled at, again, pretty unbeatable, feel free to challenge me. We also nailed alot of brasseye, which is always good. Arrival in Edinburgh was a quiet affair, we were all happy to be back in Scotland, Irn Bru in every bar, and our money isn't denied in every shop. Set up took a while, there were some complications of sorts. Laid back people being the main complication. The night went great, a very sweaty affair, and before we knew it the night was over and we were piled into the van, dropping various friends at various places in Edinburgh and heading back to Ayr, chatting about the tour, drinking the last of the jaeger, doing the punishing final load out, a hell of a vibe at that time of day. Then we said our goodbyes, until we would see each other again, 12 hours later, but still, tradition is tradition, hug it out and get tae fuck. We will do it again some other time, no doubt. Come see the band, come say hello, I'll be the guy with the handsome face standing behind the merch table.

Everyone in massproduced.

2009-01-25T10:12:00.000-08:00

This is a piece I wrote for an online fashion magazine, needless to say they didn't accept it, saying that this piece "is against everything we believe in". To this point the best review I have had.

I'm somewhat new to the fashion world. Sure I have a fine collection of clothes, but I have never seen it as anything other than stuff I put on in order to fit into certain occasions. I realise that wearing a football top to a wedding is a no no, and believe me, I have seen it happen. I also know that dressing like everyone else is not being fashionable. Shops that sell cheap shitty clothes, kitting out entire cross sections of people in identical clobber to the point it becomes like mini gangs in 4 pound jeans. If you can buy a pack of underpants for less than you could probably get for the ones you are wearing, it's probably not that good of a deal.
Expolitation rears its ugly head around this company, and many like them, crazy hippy friends are always trying to get me from going there, crying on about people being exploited in the making of these garments, the fact that you could buy a suit for 30 pounds would make that a fairly obvious assumption. At least they are getting paid, right? They could be unemployed, trying to steal for dinner, or pimping themselves out to the cats with the jobs. All in the name of fashion, however. No right minded person could pass on cheap clothes, the chance to look good for a night out on budget, not being fussed that it warps shape after one wear, let alone wash, you can always buy another one. Everyone in massproduced. The constant stream of individuals through pub doors, all working individualy to look exactly the same as each other, uniformed conformity. These unwitty 'witty' tee shirts with badly coined phrases printed on the chest for the more doucheir male. 'Just add beer' a personal favourite of mine, completely ridiculous to me, yet completely genius humour to another, the fashion equivelant of someone disliking The Naked Gun but finding Bridgette Jones Diary utterly hilarious. Nightclubs are the battlegrounds where these fashion wars are fought, where guys and girls in sweatshop ensembles dance the dance, drinkin too much, too much, and try their very best to lay claim to a member of the opposite sex for the night (next few minutes), which is probably a bigger deal for the boys in the place, they have mates to impress, each of them in a different tee shirt complete with witty one liner, these people have no chat of their own, which is why they excel in the nightclubs, anyone with anything to say, or a decent dress sense lose out to these charlatans on a regular basis because the women in nightclubs are so slutty and blinkered towards guys who look like footballers because they might have fancy cars to go along with the diamond ear stud, strangely this look that the club guy has cultivated this century would be seen as homosexual in any other time in history, the only difference is that the modern day metrosexuals are horribly boring people, too much lager, not enough education.
Could the fashion world be in jeopardy? Could we be heading towards a time where price and convienience overshadow quality and style? I believe we are already there, I myself own over 15 black work shirts, because sometimes I forget to do a washing and I need one last minute for work, and at three pounds for a shirt, one can't really resist. I guess we are all guilty at some point for something.
Society has always been image concious, and the music industry has always been at the fore front, The Beatles constant reinvention, the punk movement in the 70's the new romantics in the 80's, the madchester, parkers and pills, movement in the early nineties, even today we have people like Amy Winehouse rocking retro zombie- chic, Posh spice always trying her hardest to remain relevant in a world moving out of her weak malnourished grasp, a relic from the nineties whose fame is largely thanks to her choice in men, and partly because there is nothing to her, a sad example of women who need to be match stick thing to gain the attention of men, me personally, I like them bigger, there is nothing better than a bit of a curve on a woman, they feel great. Sadly I am a minority, or at least that's how it feels to me, the fan of the bigger woman is like the man who championed beta-max, everyone knows it was a better format; it just didn't catch the breaks VHS did. Sophie Dahl was a great example of sexy curvaceous woman, sadly she must have taken up the cocaine diet because she is now a rake, well she was the last time I googled her, in a quick one-two knock out move, she shed all her curves and started dating pop dwarf Jamie Cullem, I’m still waiting for the punch line regarding that relationship. This argument over weight, size zero and all that is, like most things, a double edged sword. Some people take things too far, they get over excited and say something totally ridiculous. Beth Ditto is the singer, a term I use very loosely, for a band called The Gossip, many newspapers and magazines, the NME being the worst for it, heralded Ditto as a renegade against the size zero models that young girls aspire to be, as if she chose to be bigger just to stick it to the skinny girls, when it's just a simple case of overeating. So, ladies and gentlemen, by their reckoning your daughter is either going to be a stick thin supermodel whose diet consists mainly of cocaine and semen, or the singer in an awful band, whose diet clearly isn't working for her. It is not really a tough decision when put like that, where would you rather be? A fashion show, surrounded by the famous, glamorous people, or a Gossip gig, surrounded by people waiting for that one song they had. At the same time putting up with Beth Ditto trying her hardest to wrestle her way out of her tight fitting formerly designer clothes, just to remind us she is fat and proud, which was plainly obvious before she stripped. I would be looking for middle ground; quite literally, I would mathematically work out the exact middle point between the two events and go stand there and look at pictures of Beyonce and Rhianna until it’s all over.

Anticipation.

2009-01-25T10:09:00.000-08:00

Standing in a huge line at a hotel reception with a massive dose of the fear, dying to get into a bed. Sitting in a taxi with a girl I am dying to sleep with, hoping she gets out at mine. Mentally counting down the days until a new GTA comes out. Knowing that there are my aunties home made sausages straight from Italy in the fridge, that will be dinner some day soon. The two years it took to finally have sex with one of my exes, while she was in a long term relationship, The fifteen years before I lost my virginity, the fourteen years before I got head, the eighteen years before I came on a girls face, and the twenty years before I got my wings. I seem to have spent my life anticipating things. I am a habitual anticipater, if you will. As we all are I guess. So, with all those big things waited for and got, what do I have to anticipate these days, well it changes weekly, mostly involving sex or movies, but with such experience in both I have fairly outlandish expectations. This week I was lucky enough to get a shot of Pro Evo 2009 on the PS3, it blew my mind. The game is exactly the same, but there is a new feature called Become A Legend, and it is incredible, like the first time you saw tits, its a whole new world. Fifa have ofcourse got their own version, which I have been assured is also great, but as my mum always says, 'you can put diamonds in shit, but at the end of the day all you have is shitty diamonds'. She is a wise woman, my mother. So, Pro evo 09 is out on PS3 and xbox. Fifa is out on all formats. Now, I only have a PS2, so do I bow to the heavy anticipation building up in my brain and buy fifa, losing me my friends and masculinity, or do I wait it out, untill this friday, which from now is less than a week. I have chosen to wait, and I think my head is going to explode. In Become A Legend you create your own character, then you start your career, trying to get signed for big teams, score big goals, and maybe win big tournaments. Basically it is the perfect thing for people like me, who used to think they were amazing at football but never caught the breaks, roughly translated as wisnae gid enough. So come friday I will get this game, lock myself in my flat,or, more importantly lock out my flatmates. Fire up the big screen and Become A Legend, and until then the anticipation will subdue my hatred of the fact it has taken 3 extra weeks for the bastards that make the game to release it on PS2. I suppose I have to come to terms with the fact I own a soon to be obsolete format, I should have traded up when Call Of Duty 4 was not released on PS2. But I held out. If there is one kind of person I truly hate, its people who think it's cool to use retro machines, and I am quickly becoming one, standing by a machine that went out with good resin. It's a money thing, if I could afford a ps3 or xbox, I would certainly buy one. Untill then I have a ps2, which I love, which maybe has something to do with the wall projector I play it through.
I started writing this on Monday of this week, it is now Thursday and I have less than 24 hours untill I get my copy, and I couldn't be more excited, those things listed at the beginning were probably more important, and in most cases, they were certainly more fun than a football game, but that was then, just now it is all I have, my life has come to this, writing about being excited about football games, which, by the way I really suck at. I should have mentioned that early on. I really truly suck at sports games on station, I excel at shooting fools in the head in games such as call of duty, or GTA, but when it comes to sports I am awful. Just last night i finished a 3 man league last, with one point, that's like admitting you don't like eating meat. It will change your peers opinions of you.
There is no contacting me this friday night, sure I should maybe go out and try and meet people, maybe get my fuck on, but only one girl could pull me away from my game, and her name is Megan Fox, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't have my number.
It has been months since the game was released, the world is disaray, businesses are shutting down left right and center, no one is safe from the dreaded credit crunch, except they are. Thats the funny thing, the credit crunch didn't seem to affect the spending over christmas and new year, and then the post festive sales have been mobbed aswell. Go figure. My Become a Legend career has flourished, having moved around alot from clubs such as Newcastle, Torino, Lazio, ManU, and finished up at AC Milan, which is where i am just now. I have been capped for Italy, and collected many prizes for my general awesomeness on the field. The only problem now is that I have managed to break my copy of Pro Evo 9, after dropping my playstation with the game on and playing. So, I guess I will have to settle for Call Of Duty Final Fronts instead.

Election 08 Part 2

2008-10-23T15:37:00.001-07:00

I am in an unusually nostalgic mood today. The world will be very, very different by this time next month, we will know the next 'leader of the free world' and I am embarrassed to say, I am going to miss W. We have spent the last 8 years bitching about him, but now that he is going, I think I will miss him, especially if McCain gets in. Its like drinking decaf coffee for 8 years, then moving straight to double espressos. John McCain is the original Maverick, so say his campaign ads. Now, does he mean he was a wunderkind pilot who struck fear into the hearts of his enemies, like the character in Top Gay was originally envisaged, or does he mean he loves to put peni in his mouth, like the way the character turned out thanks to Tom Cruise. Well, it can only be the latter, if he scared the enemy so much, they wouldn't have had such a blast torturing the bald fuck for six years, and if he had an ounce of self respect or initiative he would have taken over the prison camp and escaped, using sticks and stones, like they do in the movies. He can play the Vietnam card all he wants, its wearing thin. If I was Obama, I would have slapped McCain in his bizarre looking face long before now. But as all great men do, he has chosen to defeat him in the ring. I mean the political ring, they aren't going to throw down, like we say in the ghetto.

We are constantly reminded just how fragile the world really is, tsunami, hurricane, floods, terrorism, you name it, we have seen it in the reign of Bush, of course its just coincidence, because if I claimed it anything other than that I would be a 'conspiracy theorist', and conspiracy theorists are silly, with all their informed free thinking and passion, what is the world coming to when people start to think for themselves. We have also been introduced to a looming threat, we have not felt the full destructive force of it yet, but rest assured if McCain gets in, you will get to see the damage that Sarah Palin is capable of. The crazy, gun toting, moose hunting, illegitimate grand child having, money wasting half wit. Hello Palin, Goodbye America, that should be her political slogan. I wouldn't trust this woman with a donut, let alone an entire country. She has a great rack from what I can see, and maybe a sweet ass, but that’s not really the important issue, at any rate she has a few kids, so I bet her fanny is like a wizards sleeve, the important issue is that she was a sports caster, a bad one at that, she came second in a ten buck top prize beauty contest, and she can't really talk properly, she seems completely out of her depth, and the reason for that is she is a shill, she may or may not realise, but she is. Obama allegedly dropped the ball by not naming Hillary as his VP, and thus losing the vagina vote, so instead of the republicans naming an educated human being with experience in the field, they chose the first attractive, but not really attractive, owner of a vag that they could find. Personally I don't think Obama dropped the ball by not naming Clinton VP, I think he just realised that she would have him killed within his first week of office and take the reigns, and there is nothing more terrifying than a scorned woman with a point to prove.

Without sounding overly dramatic, the fate of the world is in American hands. If they vote in McCain, not only will they subject the world to a more concentrated version of Bush but they will lose the respect of the people around the world that still believe that there are Americans that get it. Because, believe it or not, some of us still have faith in the American people. I am not an idiot, candidates on both sides will end their term serving the same purpose, that of the money men, but its nice to dream about leaders with ideals and values. Sadly they eventually all become the same. Look at W, watch any video from when he was young and drunk, he looked like a laugh riot, now he is a stuffy old coke head. But his idiocy will always make me laugh.

Election 08

2008-09-17T03:08:00.000-07:00

Election 2008. Pt 1
By
Henry Hunter

You have to applaud The USA, they are relatively new to the whole “being a country thing“, I’m guessing it can’t be more than a few months, but they are getting there. I love the place because people are either incredibly smart, or incredibly dumb, there is very little grey area. Which, I suppose, is true of any place in the world, the difference in America is that they have two camps which split them right down the middle, democrats and republicans. For anyone on the British isles, its kind of like Labour and Tory, but not really, I doubt Gordon Brown ever put a cigar in his aides poon. He might try, but he is far too much of a fidgety fat fuck to complete the task.

The Republicans are responsible for a lot of bad shit, the democrats are responsible for bad shit also, but they cancel them out with cool things like spunking on their assistants cocktail dresses. Kudos. This year we will get to see the season finale of the greatest sit-com ever made, The Bush Administration. It has ran for eight comedy filled years, but as all things, its coming to an end. No longer will we be entertained by the worlds most powerful retard. Of course there are always the reruns, and hopefully a release on DVD.
Challenging for the job, in the blue corner, representing the Democrats is Barrack ‘the basher’ Obama, opposing him in the red corner, representing all that is wrong with the world, sorry, the republican party is Vietnam vet, John ‘the geriatric’ McCain, a man so old, he appears to shit himself every time he breathes out. Sadly its looking to be swinging his way, he will probably be the next president, and if he follows the pattern of all old people, he will probably die soon from extreme age. The problem we are then faced with is his choice of Vice President. By finding Sarah Palin, the republicans have introduced the world to one of the thickest, most infuriating cunts on earth. Seriously Palin, learn how to read an autocue, you look like you are watching a tennis match. The moral standpoint enforced on all Americans by these fools doesn’t seem to count in the Palin household, her daughter, whose name escapes me so I will refer to her as ‘Communal Vag’. Communal Vag is expecting a small bald republican, no not John McCain (boom boom), but a little illegitimate child, born into a house of sin, although I guess the poor bastard that provided the sperm has been forced into marriage, which I’m sure he is chuffed to bits about. Silly boy. It probably wasn’t even worth it, I heard she doesn’t give head.

The ironic thing about the whole debacle is the Republicans attacks on Obama’s policy regarding sex education being taught to kindergarten children. A policy which would probably prevent young girls, just like Communal Vag having unwanted pregnancies. Ladies and gentlemen, Sarah Palin, a pit bull in lipstick… she said that. Her attitude and political policies stink like a pit bulls lipstick… I said that. John McCain, a true American hero? He got caught, how is that heroic? Its just like the author that made a fortune because he wrote a book about the time he got caught, congratulations to John McCain and that author, you excel in being absolutely useless. Like a vagina in a knife drawer.

I love the drama of the US elections though, you just don’t get that in this country, all the obvious racist and sexist undertones to their public speeches, and of course the obligatory wheeling out of our old friend Rudy Giuliani, you can just picture the scene, backstage at the Republican convention.

John McCain: Quick Rudy, we are losing them, they are seeing through our bullshit, we need you now more than ever. You need to pull out the ‘Rudy Special’.

Rudy Giuliani: I don’t know John, its been a while, literally days since I used it.

John McCain: I need you, your country needs you.

Giuliani walks out on stage, stands at the lectern, composes himself, the crowd look utterly unimpressed. Silence falls over the crowd. Will he pull it out the bag, impart some of that knowledge he keeps in his onion shaped head? He raises his hand in the air.

Rudy Giuliani: 9/11!

He turns and walks off the stage to a standing ovation, the crowd go wild, he has done his job.

At the end of the day, I think it is pretty clear, I really want Obama to win, I can just picture him, awesome as he is, sending a video to the republican party HQ shortly after his victory, standing on the desk in the Oval Office, grabbing his crotch shouting “Yo! McCain/Palin, this would be you if you could read an autocue, and weren’t dumb as fuck, I’m the first black president, since Clinton, and you can suck this!" Before you know it there is a weight bench on the White House lawn, and the cops are getting called in the middle of the night because Obama is kicking it with his boys, Stevie Wonder, Bill Clinton, Robert De Niro etc watching Scarface full blast and getting wasted. Which is much better fun than a republicans night in, which involves snorting cocaine off of Condoleezza Rice’s cock, and sacrificing children on Alistair Crowley’s birthday.