I'm going to Hell

I recently read this article. In it the female author complains how men aren't growing up like they used to, how they're underachieving. Men should be less adolescent and do more mature activities, instead of playing Halo 3 with your buddies you should be 'packing leisure hours' with the following grown up pursuits:

1. Shopping
2. Traveling
3. Dining with friends
4. Getting your hair done
5. Having sleepovers

Of course these pastimes seem like infinitely more mature activities than 'playing basketball with your buddies, downloading music, playing on your xbox360, then going out to bars and parties', after all it's not like I haven't been doing her list of activities since I was 7 myself. Well except for the sleepovers, but I did use to have house mates. The list she's deriding is pretty much the same as hers, just a male equivalent, none of these activities are 'mature', surely by that she means something like visiting museums and art galleries, reading dusty books and wine tasting.

I suspect what she's really upset about is that men just don't want to get married and have children. Oh no, what a disaster, she can't find a man. This doesn't make them immature or in need of growing up. What are the advantages to getting married? Companionship? Men have friends, as she pointed out. Sex? Also as she herself said, men are capable of finding this without being married. A family? Men can have children later in life, so what's the rush. Basically men have no incentive to get married. Unless you call getting divorced, losing your kids, money, car and house like over 50% of marriages an incentive.

By the way I'm getting married in just under 8 months, I'm 25, I have a job, an apartment and four games consoles, how immature am I?

Update: Looks like this is becoming a trend, get some more gamer hate here.

Labels: assholes, family, friends, horror, rant, stupidity, wedding, women

I noticed in the news the other day that a strange looking Zorse had been bred in Germany. Now I didn't know about Zorses, but isn't that a cool idea? Cross breeding different species is definately something that should be looked into a bit more. We already have Wolphins and Ligers (bred for their skills and magic). Here's a few more to think about:

1. Giraffe + Camel = Giramel
2. Peacock + Eagle = Peagle
3. Fox + Skunk = Funk
4. Shark + Salmon = Shalmon
5. Chimpanzee + Gonorrhea = Paris Hilton

Imagine some of these creatures! Limited only by your imagination you could be Dr Moreau, but without Val Kilmer's bad acting. The beautiful Peagle, good looking, but a vicious killer, kind of like me. The animal so cool it inspired a musical movement: The Funk. Or the majestic Shalmon, massive and tasty, leaping up waterfalls and eating bears.

Seriously though, genetic experimentation comes at a price. For every Cheetorse (Cheetah-Horse), there is a Slake (Slug-Snake). Not every mutant is useful or amazing. Just look at your TV, any number of talk shows ranging from Jerry Springer to Oprah are right there, providing support and a purpose for failed experiments from all over the world.

Labels: comedy, fun, horror, science, stupidity

A lot of people like Zombies. I was going to say everyone, but I don't think that reanimated rotting corpses are everyone's cup of tea. I think the reason I like the Zombie genre is because it kind of crosses over into the post-apocalyptic genre as well, and I love all that Mad Max type stuff.

I loved all the George Romero films, Night of the Living Dead (He's coming to get you Barbara!), and even his latest Land of the Dead, which a lot of people slated. I especially like the Resident Evil games, battling through destroyed towns and Zombie infestations, always good to play on a dark night. Other than that I've also recently:

1. Read World War Z
2. Watched 'Dawn of the Dead' (The new one)
3. Read 'The Walking Dead' Comic
4. Got excited about 'Left 4 Dead'
5. Love 'Shaun of the Dead'

I like seeing or reading about things which may happen in a zombie invasion, but out of the ordinary. You can get a basic overview from George Romero's films, get somewhere easy to defend, with stores of food and some weapons. World War Z is a view from past the conflict, made up of interviews of survivors from all levels of society. It's interesting to see how governments might react, what tactics the military would come up with, how certain professions or buildings would be used to help the war effort.

The Walking Dead also has some interesting ideas, but the comic is mostly about the human reactions to the situation. Families trying to make it, groups meeting and breaking, it's kind of like a more extreme zombie infested soap opera, with more flesh eating, it's a good read and I'd recommend it.

Labels: comics, films, fun, horror, zombies

I used to be into Big Brother, not in a big way, and it would always take me some time to get into it. I hated the first few weeks, you watch everyone go in and comment on how annoying they are, and the first night is terrible. Everyone just gets drunk, and you can't hear anyone speaking, it's just noise. Loud drunk people talking over one another, I may as well go down the pub. That's also pretty much what goes on for the first few weeks, everyone is loud, there's too much to follow, as there's too many people.

Once the crowd has thinned out a bit and the most annoying have been booted out the house, getting booed mercilessly by the waiting crowd, that's when I'll get into it. But after the first few years, it got even worse. Now I go out of my way not to watch it, for the following reasons:

1. The pointless 'surprises'
2. The bitching
3. The stupid contestants
4. The fact they all think we care after they've left
5. Charley

Basically in this country the 'contestants' are always picked based on breast size, sexual preference and shock value. So you can expect at least 60% women, 40% gay, 30% freaks and about 75% mental. This guarantees hysterics, relationships, break-ups, cliques and at least 17 bitch fights a day between the incredibly nasty and petty 18-23 year old girls they dig out of the nearest shopping centre.

Above all else this woman is the perfect example of everything I hate about Big Brother. She is, and I quote "A self-proclaimed 'it' girl, Charley likes shopping, money and going clubbing at celebrity hangouts." And her Life Philosophy is: "Celebrity, celebrity, cash, celebrity." She has never had a job and gets her money from her cousin, who plays football in the Premiership in the UK. She the most annoying person I have ever had the misfortune of seeing on TV. Her voice grates on my brain like I just face planted onto a blackboard teeth first. Her personality makes me want to punch through her face and pull out her intestines so I can use them to tie her to a post in the middle of Pete's Rabid Bear Emporium. Thank God she's been evicted, now I can get on with forgetting everything about her, as even her cousin has practically disowned her, after seeing what a terrible excuse for a human she is. All I can say is I'm so glad I've got Bravo now so I can watch Sports Disasters, or When Sports Go Bad so I can see idiots hurt themselves instead.

Labels: crap, drinking, horror, Sky+, stupidity, suckage, TV, UK

As fun as Download Festival is every year, it's always great to get home. I enjoy camping quite a bit, but at a festival it's not quite the same. You don't have as much room, you don't have ready access to your car (it's a 50 minute walk away), the toilets are always far away and they stink. And if you want a shower you have to wait hours for it.

The camping is something to be endured, not enjoyed. No one enjoys camping at a festival. The only good thing about camping is... hang on... I'll think of something... It's doesn't take as long to get into the arena the next day! Ha! I knew I could think of some reason! Now for 5 reasons why I'm glad to be home:

1. My living quarters are no longer a tent
2. There is a supermarket just down the road
3. I don't have to walk everywhere
4. I can have a shower/wash whenever I want
5. I have immediate access to a toilet

For days my bathroom has been a pack of wet wipes, my kitchen a camping stove and a bag of various cans (all the labels got ripped off the first night), my toilet the camp fence (or a 10 minute walk to an indescribable hell) and my changing room an oven temperature tent. Waking up every morning with a hangover really didn't help.

Needless to say I'm glad to be back, despite the sun and boozing. After an hour long shower where my skin changed colour 4 times I felt refreshed and clean, hungry and a little sad. Sure the camping experience is just a small step from being a refugee, but refugees don't have a bunch of awesome bands to rock out to everyday. Although nor do they have to pay for the privilege.

Labels: crap, downloadfestival, drinking, hangover, home, horror, music, suckage, sun

Oh, David Caruso, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways. It's been a long relationship, for many seasons of CSI:Miami I didn't realise what you were doing. It didn't occur to me to actually pay attention to you. I was blinded by the greatness of the Vegas series, and eventually the New York incarnation.

I can remember the exact moment it happened. It was like a switch being flicked in my head. I thought to myself: "You're SHIT!!". The next thing I know I recognised every cheesy line, every time you moved your glasses, your hero complex, and finally the fact that you're ONLY A CSI. You're not in SWAT, you shouldn't clear a house on your own, or lead in a team of heavily armed and armoured policemen into a criminal's home. You should be sitting outside, with the other CSIs, waiting for the scene to be cleared. You're a twat, and it's time people knew.

1. Now watch this video...
2. ...and again...
3. ...and again...
4. ...and again...
5. ...and again!!!

Does that not just grate on every nerve? Does his smug, ginger face not make you want to go to work on him with a blowtorch, cordless drill and 10Kg bag of salt? His acting is like a toddler pretending to cry. He even uses his 'acting voice' like small children in school plays, who think they have to show that they're acting. If you could see my hatred for David Caruso, it would drive you insane, like seeing all of existence in a single blink.

By now you should all understand. After watching that video there is not a person alive who should still be on his side. Even Jim Carey realises it! That's right. If your not with us, your against us, and you will be dealt with in exactly the same way that he will be. Once we're done with him, we can go after Jerry Bruckheimer. Some of his films really get on my tits.

Labels: assholes, crap, CSI, horror, suckage, TV

OK, so yesterday, despite my immense intellect, I thought it was Friday, perhaps my arch nemesis was using some kind of mind control to depress me when I discovered the truth. He will pay for this...

Anyway, as a master wordsmith and giant of the literary world, I often spend my time lounging in green meadows, vast oak branches spreading over my head like Oberon's crown, the raging torrent of my imagination bursting it's banks onto the notebook in my hand. I can write some mean gangster rap in those conditions, I tell thee. But even a rhymasaurus with a flow as fresh as mine has trouble with a few words:

1. Film
2. Orange
3. Month
4. Purple
5. Silver

I'm sick like a leper,
I'll make your brain burn, like you just snorted pepper.
I got scary rhymes like Edgar Allan Poe,
I make The Raven seem like a doe.
This flow feels atrocious,
like a small child acting precocious.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Yeah, yeah, what, uh-huh, yeah, dika-dika, yeah...

See you never know when I'll just drop a fresh bomb on your ass like that. I'm loco. Uncontrolable, you better step off, don't be getting up in my grill. Damn this street talk is exhausting, and hard to use to get a point across. Know what I'm saying? Word.

Labels: crap, fun, grammar, horror, music, stupidity

That's right, a new low. I will today be discussing the many different types of shit people take. I feel that this a much ignored topic, even by blokes. Men tend to make comments when they come back from the toilet, but full on dump orientated conversations are fairly rare.

To start things off, here's a few definition's that I've come across during those rare moments when the topic of releasing the chocolate hostage arises:

1. The Ghost - You've pinched off a loaf, but when you go to wipe, there's nothing there.
2. The Neverending - No matter how many times you wipe, there's still more poop to remove.
3. The Shotgun - It comes out so quick with a bit of gas, leading to a lovely pebbledash effect on the bowl.
4. The Ring Burn - After eating spicy food, mainly curries, you get a nasty burn around your balloon knot.
5. The Guinness - The nastiest, blackest, most foul smelling turd made by man or beast.

Of course there's plenty more out there such as The Train, The Behemoth, and The Rollercoaster to name a few. A few friends of mine at university had a tally running in the toilet of their shared house. Every time someone went to drop the kids off at the pool you had to mark how it went on the chart. The chart was conveniently located on the back of the toilet door, with a pen taped to it.

The Guinness is an oft overlooked style of butt fudge. I became aware of it in the worst possible way I could imagine. The Wench's Dad was getting remarried, and I went on his stag night. During the course of the night out of sixteen of us, fifteen were drinking Guinness all night. We were all sleeping in the same house, sharing the same toilet. It was my bad luck to be one of the last to use the toilet the next morning. By that point the smell had become a living thing, solid and angry, looking for a way to take revenge for the abomination it had become. They found me unconscious in the hallway, after I'd managed to escape it I'd blacked out. Sometimes at night I can still hear the screaming...

Labels: crap, drinking, friends, hangover, horror, wench