Nostalgia Is Only Fun When You're Not Retarded

Here's a couple of stupid phrases that people use these days that annoy the fanny out of me. Some of them used under the guise of nostalgia are actually about as nostalgic as chlamydia.


1. "Only four more sleeps" - This once charming phrase was used to indicate a length of time in terms that a child would understand. These days, 'adults' use it for themselves as a 'funny' little throwback. I'd find it funnier if these people had been burned alive by Nazis. It's not funny, it's not nostalgic, you just have no personality. Now fuck off to the chamber, you idiots.

2. "Amazeballs" - People with no personality also tend to use this dumb as shit expression. They're also usually the type that wear t-shirts with Sesame Street characters on them. Morons.

3. The words/phrases 'girlies', 'my girlies', 'girloes' etc etc. - The annoying thing about these ones is that, if you use them, you're an absolute pretentious knacker who probably doesn't have any friends in the first place. Everyone I know who uses the phrase "going out with my girlies" on facebook can get raped.


Done.

Skinny Crappuccino

I was walking home today when I was overcome by a powerful urge to take a shit. Not the kind of "whip out To Kill A Mocking Bird and settle in for a good oul' read" type of shit, more the "I'm gonna pull down my pants, sit on a seat and hope to fuck there's a hole in it" type. I was left with a choice. Use the toilet in the Starbucks I was passing, or shit myself. Usually, I'd just shit myself rather than step foot in that place but I was wearing shorts and no amount of hyperbole would make that okay. So in I went.

I'd never been in Starbucks before because deductive reasoning lead me to believe it's full of cunts. Maybe I'm an uppity prick. So what, I was right. Inside, I was greeted by a prick of a Starbucks person who has some sort of weird job title that means they can make coffee. I will not use this title. The other people in there were also dopes, sipping their 'skinny lattes' and 'grande cum-shots' or whatever. Skinny is not a size I want associated with my cuppa tea, you fuck! Also, I had to fucking buy a cup of tea for €2.20 and it tasted like piss. €2.20 for piss and what I really wanted was a shit!

Anyway, the point is, I reckon Starbucks is an organisation set up to indoctrinate people into drinking their pissy coffee, lull them into thinking it's great, drug them and then violently molest them in their sleep, cutting them open and removing their organs to feed cows. Cows to make the milk to put in the coffee. And the cycle starts again. Sound ridiculous? Well then, they may already have you. And I uncovered it. Because I needed to take a shit.

Reviews of Movies I Haven't Seen - Transformers: Dark Side Of The Moon

BOOM! KRSHH, BLAKHHHHHH!!!! Those are explosiony sounds and probably the most intelligent things you will hear throughout the entire film. I'm basing this on three things: The trailer, the cast and the fact that this is the same recycled Hollywood shite that comes out every Summer. Sure, I haven't technically seen this movie, but really I have. MICHAEL BAY. Only when I saw this movie, it was called Men In Black. Or Die Hard 4.0 (yeah, it was a crap film; I've finally gotten over it). So I know what I'm not gonna be in for when I never watch this shit film. A load of shit, that's what.

Now, first off, MICHAEL BAY I don't really give a fuck about Transformers. I didn't play with the toys or watch the cartoons when I was a kid so when they announced the first film with Shya Labouef a few years ago, I wasn't one of the idiots who pissed themselves with excitement and named their newborn Megatronius (or something). But from what I gather from the trailers, this movie seems to be about Alien robots who are coming to stop other Alien robots from taking over/destroying the Earth. Call me crazy but that idea is fucking awesome! Why in shit would you want to mess that up?! MICHAEL BAY


Here's what I reckon happens in the movie, based on convention and the trailer. Something dramatic and explosion-y kicks off the action in the first 5 minutes or so. A lot of top secret (attractive) government people walk through automatic glass doors and hand files to higher-ups who say things that, on the surface, sound intelligent but when your quadriplegic, braindead grandad has the slightest spark of a thought, he realises that it's actually tripe ("Our entire space-race of the 1960s was in response to an event" - $195m budget and this is the standalone sentence that introduces the trailer.) MICHAEL BAY.

Anyway, after all that shite, the movie looks to be dominated by huge 'splosions, a token black dude who has muscles and a gun and, likely, some wise-cracks. Shea Lebraff running around looking dumb and a supposedly attractive female who doesn't do anything in the trailer except look upwards and scared (this might just be how her face looks, I'm not sure) and is invariably only gonna be used to either get captured by someone or to tell Sean Luboff that "we have to get out of here!" Perhaps both. Probably both, in fact.

The rest of the movie will basically MICHAEL BAY just be filled in by computers and the odd crusty old army man who wants to nuke everything. There's always one, eh? Suffice it to say, at the start of the movie, everyone will be well dressed and pretty and by the end, after the alien robot apocolypse, though no one will have died, their shirts will be scuffed, their faces will be positively filthy and yer wan's rack will definitely be on display. MICHAEL BAY What really baffles me is the amount of morons who go to see this shite. I understand if you wanna bring the lads from the special home or your aspergers kid to see it or something. But seriously, if you're a normal, functioning human, stay away.

I'd love to kick the shit out of the absolute prick who directed this piece of bollocks movie. Whoever he is.

That's It! I'm Givin' Up The Smokes!

And I mean it this time! It's gone on too long. They cost so much, my teeth and fingers are stained, I smell like crap and, to top it off, my uncle just died of lung cancer 'cos he smoked all his life. This time, I'm definitely giving up. Well, except when I'm drinking, obvs, but that doesn't count. Social smoking doesn't count.

No, not me you fuckin' goon. The above paragraph was written in the first person to show how annoying it is to hear that crap. I obviously don't smoke cos I'm obviously not a retard. That kinda shit is the crap I have to listen to all the fucking time from idiots that I know who like to pretend to themselves that they're gonna quit smoking. They don't believe it. I don't believe it. But for some reason, they keep telling me anyway, as if I'm supposed to give a shit. To be perfectly honest, for the most part, I don't give a shit if you get lung cancer from smoking. So I don't really give a shit if you quit or not. Obviously, I have a few close friends and family members that smoke who I don't want to see meet a grizzly end. But apart from those few people, I really don't care.

Part of the reason that I don't care is that, I reckon if you smoke in the first place, you're pretty much a goner anyway. Smoking cigarettes is like paying someone to punch you in the gut every day as hard as they can until it eventually kills you. Surely if you're doing something like this, your own idiocy will win out in the end and cause a stupid death, like you'll accidentally eat a marble instead of a grape and choke to death on it. Or if you're American, you'll shoot yourself in the face while trying to clean your loaded gun in the dark.

So why did you start in the first place? Cos you're a.... *and the audience chimes in* FUCKING MORON! Top four reasons I've heard when I've asked people these questions, in no particular order are, a) For something to do; b) To relieve stress; c) It looks cool; d) Dunno really.... Dya know what's a healthier, cheaper option? Pulling yourself! I'm not even being crass. Can't think of anything to do? Pull yourself! Need to relieve stress? Pull yourself! Something that looks cool? Eh.. well, you get the idea anyway.

So anyway, what I'm saying is that if you're planning on telling me that you're going to quit smoking (except of course while you're drinking or stressed or feel like a cigarette), please save us both some time and hang yourself instead. Or just don't talk to me. You'll be telling me the same thing in two weeks anyway. Also, if you're planning on 'ironically' telling me tomorrow that you're going to quit as a 'joke,' it's been done. And done. And done. So fuck off.

No One's Got Talent!

Oh good, they're back! Apparently, it's time for another round of that same show where those different celebrity panelists critique (judge) the hopeful (deluded) denizens of Celeb-Culture-Land on their attempts at singing or dancing or singing again, with all the perspective of a blind nazi and all the originality of a pear. I'm talking, of course, of pseudo-reality 'talent' shows, made popular some years back by Simon Cowell and some other cunts.

The formula is simple: pretty people with good voices get glamourised further, ugly people get mocked relentlessly, and if you happen to be ugly but slightly talented, you get your own little segment and possibly a slot on Oprah. Bitchin'. These days, the show is the career which, while bafflingly contrary to the supposed point of the show, seems to go over the heads of most of the audience, affording it the luxury of perpetuating that insane formula season after season, spin-off after self-harm-encouraging spin-off.

A more appropriate name for "X Factor" would simply be "Ex Factor," the search for someone with the potential to fade swiftly into obscurity after the cash has been made on the show. Recent victim of destroyed childhood dreams, Joe McElderry, has reportedly just been dropped from his, evidently reality-inclined, record label for poor album sales, following on from his victory on 'X Factor' in 2009. Which is fair enough. I'd feel awkward buying an album from such a boring individual if he worked in HMV, which is an increasingly likely eventuality at this stage, let alone buy an album by him. Bland McElderry is a victim of the industry as much as his own lack of talent, likeability, personality and probably pubic hair. It's not his fault he got suddenly famous; it's the cunting public's fault for voting for him! The only thing that's his fault is his fall from grace due to his utter detestability and the self-preserving nature of Cowell's franchise; an industry based around the idea of the one hit wonder. Promote someone to prominence with such a level of oversaturation that they'll make one giant pot of cash and then discard them before they have a chance to cost you anything more by plummetting in popularity by virtue of the fact that they're completely talentless and shit.

But again, these things aren't the fault of the moronic individuals that are silly enough to think that they might 'make it' and they're not even the fault of Cowell and his likeminded cronies. It's your fault, you prick! Stop watching this shit year in, year out and they'll stop airing it. YOU'RE RUINING LIVES BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO BORED TO GET OFF YOUR COUCH AND DO SOMETHING INTERESTING (or even just to watch something good like The Wire)!!! Or else keep watching it. I don't give a shit if Joe McElderry has a shit life; he's as interesting as a grey lampshade.

Rant's, Rave's and Murderou's Intention's

You know what people seem to love these days? Being total retards. These days more than ever; It's become the new fad, bigger than Pogs or anit-semitism ever were. I know it sounds a pedantic point to judge people on but the superfluous apostrophes that appear these days accompanying every occurance of the letter S have really started to grate on me. Besides, I never claimed that I wasn't pedantic or judgemental, you absolute cunt.

I mean, really. These are simple grammar points that we've learned since the age of about six. How are you getting dressed in the morning, or getting to work? "Actually, I'm on the dole cos theres no job's out there." Fuck off, you bum, you know what I mean. And, while we're at it, if you're going to be on the dole, at least think of a good excuse. Like you're taking a year out from your shit Arts degree or you have anxiety disorder from being molested as a child. That said, if you are using an apostrophe to pluralise the word "Box," I can see why no one would give you a job. I wouldn't buy chips from you and the bitch that sells me my chips wipes the sweat off her forehead just before manhandling the inside of my chipper bag. This is how little confidence I have in you.

But it's okay, one day you'll die. And your retarded family will have lovely things to say about you (none of which are true; I really doubt you were "the life of every party." I've met you and you're fucking boring). And you'll have a lovely headstone that reads something like "Here Lie's Utter Bastard. Father of two Children's, Brother of three Sister's, Beloved Cunt." And I'll laugh. Laugh from under my headstone that just says "Prick."

New Friend Request: Ignore?

The problem with Facebook is that it makes things too easy. In the past, when I wanted to ignore someone I didn't like, I had to go out of my way to actually talk over them or say things about them so that my friends wouldn't like them either. Then Facebook came along and my ignoring became passive, so amazing was the advent of the "Ignore All Posts By" function. But the whole thing has left me lazy and disillusioned.

At first, it was easy. I could use the ignore function and that was that. But now, after quite some time, people are becoming more and more difficult to phase out because they're becoming less and less shameful about bringing Facebook into real life and vice versa. A while back, I met a girl in a pub and, boring though the conversation was, I still ended up with her and her friends as my friends on Facebook. Why? I don't really know. I mean, from my end, I know why. I was too polite to click "Ignore" upon receiving a friend request from someone with whom I'd had exactly one conversation (though not too polite to almost immediately block their updates). But is your life really that boring that you have to virtually connect with everyone you meet?

Bringing real life into Facebook is bad enough but bringing Facebook to real life is worse. These days, I actually have to smile and nod when people tell me how they saw me on Facebook last night, as if that's supposed to actually mean something other than that they're a total creep with no social awareness of any decent measure.

What I really need is an "Ignore All Posts By" button that will work in real life. How amazing would it be to not actually have to ever see in real life the stupid people you don't like on your facebook but can't delete because you're bound to run into them and the overbearing awkwardness of it would be too much to really justify the move. The only real option is to delete my own facebook but then I'd be depriving all of my friends, new and old, of all my great status updates, cool photos and interesting links that I post all the time that nobody has time to comment on because they're too busy enjoying the awesome content that I'm consistently sharing with them. I'll find a solution at some point and message everyone. Make sure to reply this time so I know you got it. Also, check out my new pictures, they're hilarious!

I'm not going and you can't fucking make me!

It's that time of year again. The clocks have sprung forward, the sun is starting to shine, the leaves are doing shit that's - I'm sure - indicative of the fact that it is, indeed, Spring. How else do we know that it's Spring? A keen indicator for me is the seemingly neverending slew of people all asking me the same question they asked me last year. And the year before that and the one before that. "Are you going to Oxegen?" they ask with a dull, empty look in their eye, probably from years of going to bland, corporate rock festivals, and an unnoticed drip of saliva hanging from the side of their mouth, probably from years of being utterly boring and stupid. Not even caring that I've said "No" this time and every other, they continue to blather inanely on about "how cool the line-up is," not realising the dull, empty look in my eye because I'm daydreaming about how awesome The Goonies was and not being asked about going to shitty Oxegen.

Do you know why the line-up is cool?, I mentally punch this question into their vapid brains. The line-up is 'cool' because the organisers of music festivals are not morons. The line-up isn't cool; it's lucrative. They haven't scouted out the finest talents in music and wrapped them into an amazing festival, they've watched your collective spending habits and capitalised. And when they've sorted out the most popular bands for their target demographic, they spread out and try to cover every target market imaginable, which leaves you with a complete cluster-fuck of people who don't actually give a shit about the music, save maybe one or two bands, yet spend hundreds of euro to essentially wallow in their own filth, drink themselves into oblivion and endanger their health in a very dull impersonation of 'having fun'. I could do that at home for €40 and I wouldn't have to shit in a portacabin that's dangerously close to being tipped over by passing scumbags.


When that excruciating nightmare is over and I think I can finally free myself from conversing with this corpse, they ask the second question, "Are you going to Electric Picnic?" This is essentially the same question as the first except hearing a 'no' to this one apparently affords the inquisitor the luxury, nay social right goddammit, to get on some sort of high-horse of cool, like somehow not wanting to go to this supposed event means that my brain must be working backwards. Perhaps I need therapy or lessons in not being a social retard. And again I have to listen about 'how cool the line-up is'... The line-up is not cool; it's doing the same thing as the other one. It's not cooler, you've just shifted your mode from 'banal' to 'pretentious.' If I could find your 'off' setting, you wouldn't last longer than it took me to decide not to ram a pencil through my eye-socket. 'Offing' you is not a difficult decision.

Apparently though, "everyone is going" to these festivals so apparently, "there'll be nothing to do when everyone else is gone." Somehow I think I'll find something. Like continuing on with my life. Enjoy your music festivals, kids. When you're vomitting in your tent-mate's shoes at 7am and holding in your shit so you don't have to sit on one of those disease-ridden portaloo seats, I'll be snoozing comfortably in my bed, not being a complete and utter waste of an article.