Cuntslashtwatdotfuckwhore

No Heading Supplied

2008-01-22T18:05:00.001Z

I just popped and made the bed springs vibrate. I felt them.

Other news follows. When I can be bothered.

Re: Original Posting 15 February 2006

2008-01-22T18:02:00.000Z

I stand by my words. I find it very difficult to talk to somebody who can't talk to me. Fucking bank.

Happy New Year, you slags!

2007-12-31T13:18:00.000Z

No really, I mean it.
xx

I really like Windows Vista.

2007-11-25T16:38:00.000Z

Call me a cunt, but I do. The games I want to play work better in Vista than they did in XP, and it hasn't yet caused me any problems. Also, it's the first operating system I've ever legally owned! How speshul is that? I'm not sure it's that exciting in itself, but I suppose it does look a bit more mature than XP also. Prick. Sorry. I'm on the rum.

An Essay on the Female of the Species.

2007-11-20T21:31:00.000Z

Girls. What the fuck? As I grow old, and unavoidably encounter the occasional Miss, a number of questions begin to form in my mind. I mean, I like girls. I understand and fully appreciate their function. I enjoy in moderation the simple joy they can take in a conversation. I find amusement in their most excellent impressions of the rear-end. But many aspects still puzzle the tits off me. No pun intended. Recently I have come to wonder, in this great world of ours, what other manner of creature can there possibly be who is scared of its own plates of meat? How far can something get when it can tolerate neither the idea nor the touching of, arguably, its most important appendage? That which to survive independently it must use on a daily basis? I feel I may be slightly more toward a person feeling self-conscious about, perhaps, an abnormality or irregular feature peculiar to a small group. But I'm talking about something that almost every single person that has ever existed in the world has, at least at some point in their lives, possessed. I dare say I've never seen a bosom in which I did not take pleasure in the viewing, but a lass being shy of these I can at least see some reasoning behind. They are after all (almost) exclusive to women, and what with social conditioning it's no wonder it's so rare to come across a person content with the physical form they inhabit. But feet are just feet, surely?

The physical form they inhabit. How many tears have been shed on this thorny issue? And if we include those of the ladies they must surely be beyond count. Such a massive proportion of the blame is so obviously attributable once again to modern culture, its media and its Photoshopped perceptions of beauty and perfection. I don't think it's even worth starting down that road, for the sake of writing a piece that somebody might finish reading. That does of course assume anybody will start to read any of this. But in a few years at least I'll have something to publish. Every other cunt with web log seems to be bloody publishing theirs. Though it does seem beneficial to orientate the writing firmly around the subject of men. I'll have a think and try later. Anyway, I digress. Ever so slightly. Er... Oh yes! How many fruitless hours have I spent in the reassurance of birds that their apearance is indeed pleasant, and that nobody is actually going to judge them for leaving the house without having been pre-edited for the cover of Cosmopolitan? How many healthy women are currently tormenting themselves with the idea of being "on a diet"? Does this not surely suck so much enjoyment from daily life? Even those not denying themselves food seem to be largely convinced that they themselves are fatter than everybody else. It really does make me sad. For my mental stability if not theirs. And have you noticed that these chicks and even those who could not possibly be any more skinny, the sort that hurt to look at them, are still unhappy with their breasts? They seem to have achieved the kind of muscular wastage dreamt of across the land, and yet they want a fatter chest.

I feel frustration growing. I feel your attention waning. I feel I must apologise for the lack of unnecessary expletives in this post. I leave thee now with one final thought on this poignant topic. Eyebrows. They grow above the eye. Hence the name. They do not, I am quite conviced, fulfill their purpose when drawn onto the forehead in pencil. Few things upset me more.

I'll try to stop thinking for next time and write you a nice sweary bit without all the questions. You didn't have to answer these ones, but I know how they put some of you on edge.

Goodnight, sexy. xxx

P.S. Do please let me know if you have ever encountered a member of the fairer sex who is either comfortable with having feet, sad to not have them, happy in her body or eats properly. Like a person. Actual meals. Whole meals. What's wrong with mushrooms? I like fish!

2007-11-19T23:18:00.000Z

http://www.monkeyfluids.com/

Fuck off!

2007-11-16T17:36:00.000Z

No way was that ever fifteen minutes! As of now, and probably for some time before, it seems that entering rude words into a search engine no longer brings up this site. Or at least, it's not at the top any more. Fear not, my pets. 'Tis but a delay. I will merely find another route to the top.

2007-11-04T13:59:00.000Z

http://www.altavista.com/web/results?itag=ody&q=cunt+twat+fuckwhore&kgs=0&kls=0

I'm out there! This is only the beginning!

My life is complete.

2007-11-04T13:17:00.000Z

Well, a little bit more than it was, anyway. For today, my friends, I made my best poached eggs ever. And that includes the ones in those plastic cups. Actually those don't even count. They're never any good.

They did stick ever so slightly, string a small amount and the yolk was harder than I wanted it. But not solid. Also I broke one. I was cooking on a slanty cooker though. I'm really fucking amazed at my achievement. There's room for improvement, but this is the first time I've actually made something that looks like poached eggs.

Also, I was good at pool last night. Well, passable. I've no idea when that came about. I wish I'd known, I might not have left it so many years before I tried again!

Also also, you cunts aren't telling me when I make mistakes. Last night I found an exclamation mark without a space after it. I mean come on, man! What the fuck? Help me out here! Bollocks to two spaces though. I'm not pissing about with that shit. I haven't got all day!

There was something else, but I've forgotten.

Soz ard.

Once more unto the breeches

2007-11-03T22:02:00.000Z

Yes, I'm fucking back! With a small amount of provocation I was provoked into working out a way to sign in again. I dunno what these cunts did, but they took my name away! Slags! I'm off now. Some of us have lives to lead! I, however, am going to the pub.

Apologies for the previous photo.

Still love you. Only I could.

xx

2007-11-03T21:52:00.000Z

This Winter

2007-02-14T19:24:00.000Z

I have caught a cold. I really wish snot didn't come out wet and dry hard. It just means I've got wet pockets and a scratched nose. You know how fucking delicate I am. Oh! The Agony!

x

His fucking head's fallen off!

2007-02-12T19:59:00.000Z

But he still thinks you're a twat!

His misfortune betrays my construction methods though. I had to cut his head in half to lift it up! Being alone, (but not single - sorry ladies) as I currently am, I had no help, you see. I couldn't roll the body any bigger, neither. Snow gets really heavy when it gangs up. I finally understand how people die in avalanches. The eagle-eyed amongst you may notice another unfotunate accident to befall Monsieur Snow. There I go again. Soz.

I'll do it here though.

2007-02-12T19:57:00.000Z

"Cheers cunt", I wittily retorted. Well, what else is there?

An Idiot and a Moron

2007-02-12T19:02:00.000Z

I bet you thought I'd left you. Well I haven't. I almost wrote a couple of days ago, in fact. But it took our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ (see below) to bring me fully back.

To this end, I offereth unto thee a transciption of the conversation I was smited with on my walk home from the tram station, after I had been at work for 9 1/2 hours (more on that later). It seems, witnessing the decline in church attendance of recent years, the dark streets of Wolverhampton have found themselves the subject of a bit of a recruitment drive by the aforementioned nuts.

Enter Old Woman, Myself (moving to walk around OW as she crosses my path).

Old Woman: "Excuse me, can you tell me where the Catholic church is?"

Not being convinced she was truly looking for it, and not wishing to enter into a conversation on my religious tendencies with a woman wearing a placard of Jesus' face, I replied politely, but not apologetically.

Myself (still walking): "I couldn't say I can."

Sensing, somehow, that I did not know where the church was, and perhaps also that I wasn't particularly interested in finding out, she informed me of her disappointment.

Mad Woman: "Then you're an idiot and a moron! You don't even know where the Catholic church is and you live here! Idiot!"

Not wishing to appear to keen by displaying my surging enthusiasm, I did answer her criticism, but I'm ashamed to say I did so by thanking her and voicing an opinion on her own character, using possibly less than savoury words, which for the purposes of being taken seriously I shall not repeat here.

Having said this, I do respect that woman. I wouldn't walk around Wolverhampton in the dark shouting things like that at men twice my size.

x

Witness, right, a 2-hour, one-man snowie formed dans le jardin by moi last Thursday. I know you can't see it, but my gesture is merely mimicking that of the Homme de Neige. Pardon my French, I don't know what's happening to me. Carpe Diem, as non-members say.

2006-12-04T08:36:00.000Z

This post is here for no other reason than for Jesus and I to voice our opinions on certain people, namely you. Sorry cunt.

Bloody Weather

2006-11-23T15:58:00.000Z

I do other things than look out of the window, you know, but I don't want it to be raining.

I just clicked on that Launchcast link (<---) because I saw it, and judging by this one song I've heard (which isn't Sledgehammer) I really like the music of Mr Peter Gabriel. Finished school at 3 today, 20 minutes earlier than usual. I've written one form out, but done fuck all marking. I'm gonna die soon if I don't start sorting this out. Death by shirking, if you'd believe such a thing. Anyway, nice to talk to you cunt, time to go home.

xxx

Hey.

2006-10-25T12:48:00.000+01:00

It's raining.

Thought yesterday we'd been excused Winter and skipped forward to spring, but the weather's shit today. And I've got to walk up and pay the rent today. I'd put it off, but it's already been put off until pay day. Which is today. I'm gonna have to do a lot of phoning and calculating to give everybody enough money to stop them taking me to court but little enough so that all the other money-grabbers can have a bit. For fuck's sake, can't they give me a break? Just for a bit? This is my second pay day in this job, but I wouldn't notice, I'm never allowed to keep any of it! Lloyds don't help with their continual fucking charging either. Hey! One of our charges from last month sent you over your limit! We're gonna have to charge you 30 quid for that, my son.

Cheers, you fucking bankers.

Must dash. x

Your new favourite band

2006-07-19T20:02:00.000+01:00

Try this out for size: http://www.sethputnam.com/AC.html

What a cunt!

I feel I should draw your attention

2006-06-24T07:47:00.000+01:00

to the following web site. Or whatever they're called these days- http://hitlercats.motime.com/

It seems to combine your two passions in life, so I thought you'd enjoy it.

Mighty boosh series two sucks.

And considering they won themselves only one of the group matches, I'd like to wish our lads luck in Germany tomorrow.

1 nil by a goal we didn't score.

2006-06-12T17:50:00.000+01:00

Pack your bags lads, it's hometime.

Wanna see our Grass? Yes, the capital G is deserved. That's less than half I've managed to cut. And Paul-cunt did most of that. I had a go yesterday but the strimmer started smoking. With actual smoke. Left it a bit and it was making a queer sound. I know, I know, I shouldn't have let it get so long. I reckon it's about 2 ft tall at least. It'd be quite pretty as a meadow, but it's a bit embarrassing as a garden. Even for a cunt like me. You cunt.

Fucking Bono

2006-05-12T18:41:00.000+01:00

It was Barbecue Day on Wednesday. I know I didn't have the first one, but it's an important time of year for me. What was good, though, was that I also combined it with Shorts Day. Rock AND roll. My garden's a fucking meadow. It's longer than it got over the whole of winter.
It's got flowers and grasses of all kinds. I think there are dandylions, but they're too short to be seen. Now fuck off. You bore me.

Are you ready to rock?

2006-05-01T14:10:00.000+01:00

You've gotta be sure now. I've just made a Space with which to Promote my Band, seeing as that seems to be how it's done These Days. You should be able to find it at http://www.myspace.com/74984622. There's a blog entry, but that's about all I've managed to do so far. New sucks. Give me something I can do.

And lo! The wind did trump upon its passing!

2006-04-24T16:56:00.000+01:00

See? I could've written a bible. Piece of piss. Anyway, I just saw a robin in my garden. It sat on the fence. That one, there. I cut that grass the other day. Took fucking ages, needed amptying every 2 minutes. And the bastard's grown again now, look. What a fucking cunt. That's the first washing I've hung out this year. Hope it doesn't get nicked again.

Getting your washing nicked
*****

Bye bye, Barri,

2006-04-16T15:34:00.000+01:00

Bye bye. See you around. Or doubtless when you bring yourself back to the West Midlands. Love you, you hairy cu- love you. x

Children Beware

2006-03-29T19:09:00.000+01:00

I'm out to get you! For I am now a teacher. Pending completed assignments. Don't educate your kids in the West Midlands. You have been warned!

Were I not so mild-mannered,

2006-03-23T20:35:00.000Z

I'd have a few words to say about that prick of a university tutor of mine. He was supposed to be doing my final observation today (it's my last week), but he didn't turn up, because despite explicitly emailing the time, date, class etc., he apparently thought it was at a different time, so the lesson I spent all week planning went unwitnessed. So here I am, about to try again for tomorrow. What a fucking cunt (it's deserved in this case).

I fucking ROCK!

2006-02-25T18:29:00.000Z

What? Why are you looking like that? Oh, sorry- CUNT.

CUNT

2006-02-21T18:08:00.000Z

is offensive, She tells me. If I could ask your assistance then, which do you prefer, flange or minge? Or maybe you have a better name for a lady's axe-wound? Let me know by clicking below.

Hey! I'm a poet and I didn't realise!

Good news, everybody!

2006-02-17T19:15:00.000Z

Them daffs is growing. No flowers yet, but I can see some leafs. I spotted a couple of crocus leafs also as well.

I'm Not Racist, but...

2006-02-15T09:08:00.000Z

...foreign call centres are really starting to fuck me off. Apart from being unnerving (okay, so I am), THEY DON'T SPEAK FUCKING ENGLISH! I am made a payment? Am I? So why did I have to call you? Surely it's because I'm not made a payment? Yeah, say it louder, then I'll understand. Louder still? Got it. Tell you what, you check with your supervisor. He's probably got a dictionary. Anyway, it seems that if you ignore the foreign ones, you get upgraded to the English ones. Which is now the stage I'm at. Bankruptcy here I come.

Lloyds TSB, I'm looking in your direction...

I can smell your cunt.

2006-02-08T21:12:00.000Z

Yes I can.

Shit!

2006-01-29T12:34:00.000Z

I blocked the bog! What a fucking idiot! It was only toilet paper. That the decorations were wrapped in last year and I couldn't be bothered to replace. They were just taking up space in the box, so it made sense to dispose of it in the place it goes. There was a lot of it, but it fitted in. And I'm buggered if I'm gonna be picking baubles out of that water. It was a shit one anyway. Was a bit scary when the water level started rising towards the rim (not mine, I was standing up), but it stopped just short of the top. Note: Toilets, or ours at least seem to have the ability to drain water from under the rim. Where it comes out. Thinking about it, it was probably just the water going down, and thereby allowing air under it that made it gurgle. Though I'm sure the bleach foam was being sucked towards it.
Anyway, it was going down very slowly. VERY slowly. I had a feel round the bend with some rubber gloves, but couldn't reach anything. If you ever bung up your crapper and feel the need to stick your hand down it, make sure you wear long gloves. I didn't. I also tried shoving a spare shower hose up it, to no avail. Dunno whether it hit a bend it couldn't do, but it wasn't moving. Looked in a DIY book. It said I needed a special giant plunger or a kind of rod thing. Fuck that. So I rang my dad.
No answer on the mobile. So I rang his house. And was transferred across (one c? I think so). Phew. He suggested either putting a hose up and squirting or using a wet cloth as a plunger. Bollocks to the hose. I got the rat's towel. Yes, the rat's towel. after emptying a bit out with a too-big bucket it cleared with one go of the towel. Definitely one to try next time.

The moral? Don't put things in the loo that don't go there. Or too much of what does.

Hopefully then, my lovelies, this sorry tale will be of some use to one of you cunts and you won't have to go through what I did. I still smell of bleach. Though I doubt it. So fuck you all.

Thank fuck the Lady was out with her sisters and mother shopping for bridesmaid's dresses (for her sister's wedding). There would have been all sorts of panic, tears, call to plumbers and bollocks like that if she hadn't. I worked up a sweat though when time wore on.

Incidentally, if you are ever invited to watch Bad Santa with your partner's family, or if they suggest, say, you get it on paper-view, politely decline. They may be mildly offended, but you won't have to sit through a film with them what every sentence seems to contain the word "fuck", often preceded by the word "mother", and where the protagonist is abnormally obsessed with seeing to women in the manner which has the effect of rendering them unable to "shit right for a week". A surprising number of sex scenes for a Christmas film.

Bad Santa
@*!#$

You have been warned. Now fuck off.

I'm tired.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)

2006-01-22T09:48:00.000Z

Liam Neeson strung up and stuck through with a knife. About bloody time. Kids can't act for shit, and this film's not changed my opinion. But they did a better job than that fucking witch. What knob-head cast that one? The beavers saved this film. I don't remember anything in the book about Cair Paravel being a fucking cricket pavilion, neither. That boring one would get it in a couple of film's time, but until then I'll make do with the older Lucy.

*****

Sorry about that folks

2006-01-22T09:16:00.000Z

...Appears I was due some national service is the Venezuelan Army. I'm not supposed to be back yet, but you won't tell, will you? Will you? If they ever ask you, tell them thanks, but no thanks. I've never met such a shouty lot in all my life. So what else have I done? Thanks for asking, It really means a lot to me that you're so interested. You cunt. Speaking of which, do this: Worst Job. Don't get scared, it's an MP3 from a real website, so it's fine. Really.

Ah, yes cunts. Well, I planted me daffs, my dad did get back to me, but after the event. For fuck's sake. When I saw what that fuckhead what replied to the last post did for a living, I almost shit myself, till I saw his name wasn't my dad's. But then (you might wanna sit down) this isn't my name. Had you fucking going there, diddle I cunts? Well, I managed to get back home in time for Christmas, but just about. Christmas eve bye the time I fucking turned up on Mother's doorstep. Only just beat the Holy Father himself. That means Santa, right?

Been to school. I've got a new school. It's a nice school. Got my first reall observation on Tuesday. Is year sevens, shouldn't be a problem. I'll let you know, my darlings.

I'm gonna take the Chrimbo deccys down today, I really think I ought to. After breakfast though.

Love you all.

xxxx

Oh. My. God.

2005-10-06T10:30:00.000+01:00

Did you see that? I've got a celebrity! I now know that at least 2 people have looked at this without me telling them to. To be fair though, one of them knows me in real-space and the other, while having been on telly (rather than just in telly - how lame is that?), I would perhaps rather he hadn't seen it. Still, he's doubled my "fanbase". After discussion with the in TV cunt, I would like to point out the the staying indoors comment was a reference to the global community of geeks and the deminishing, but still significantly, immobile nature of our crash-friendly chums.

So how deep do daffodils go? I asked my Dad via the medium of SMS (I can't remember the last time I used me voice to communicate over a mobile phone. The wonders of technology. Wonders, or blunders? Fuck off, Homer. And relax...), but as yet I've had no reply. I've been noticing that recently. I can only presume he's either changed his number, broken his phone, or he's starting to realise how much he truly hates me. Anyway, I had a go, guessing as I went, and managed to plant about 5 bulbs before I broke the small spade (trowel?) I was using. Actually, I did about two, but then I put the four candle (Goodbye, Ronnie) on it which allowed me to carry on briefly. Thanks for the thought mum, sorry I broke your presents. I'll go into town today, see if I can find some stuff that I might not break so soon. Might try Wilkinsons. Seen stuff in there before. Might even treat myself to a big fork. If you want to know, check back next spring and, if I remember, I'll tell you if any of me daffs is grown.

Is it lunch time soon? I'm hungry...

But my pockets are full!

2005-09-29T13:58:00.000+01:00

I did some work today! In that I watched a program on Teacher's TV about some things called "blogs" and how they are being used in West Blatchington School presented by a guy called Steve O'Hear. Who seems to be some kind of super-geek trying to convince the world to go indoors. Anyway, I had an Idea (the sort that requires a capital letter). If a small man in a wheel chair can do it, then perhaps I might even be able to. I need to carry out an ICT project for university, involving some kids. Could I, perhaps, get them blogging? Could they blog their lessons or their thoughts or some such crap? I reckon it could work, seeing as my Virtual Workspace idea (small one) probably won't happen, as the school needs to be registered with them. So here I am, feeling a bit milk-sick and getting a numb arse from sitting on the PC (no chairs, see), trying to do some better stuff with my blog so that, should the opportunity arise, I will be able to use this and turn a whole new set of kids on to the pleasures of sitting in a room on their own looking at a computer screen.

So look out, you cunts (was it worth the wait?) for a lovely, clean blog by my "teaching" alter-ego, and possible some by some kids, though I couldn't tell you which school they'll be from, as the University of Wolverhampton has yet to bother to arrange a placement. Ace. Well done lads, it's much appreciated (Wolves Uni = cunts)

Newsflash

2005-08-31T13:08:00.000+01:00

Well hello there. Welcome to my world. It's been a while, so here is the news (you cunt).

I've moved house! Same town, but the house is about eight times the size. That's not saying much though, the last one was like a fucking phone box. The garden is fucking amazing though. Massive built in barbie (cue, not the doll).

Err, remember those assignments? Well, I failed, so I'm looking to qualify at Christmas now. Bollocks. Do your homework, kids...

Anything else? Probably, but nothing that springs to mind. Oh yeah, Landlord's a cunt. Watch out for him.

If you read this, write a reply. Just a short one. I'm still not convinced there's any point to this!

I love you all.

2005-03-12T16:01:00.000Z

How about that then, eh? Less than a fucking month since the last post. What did I tell you?

Does anybody read this shit? I mean, is there any point in me even writing this shit? One suspects not.

Anyway, I've got a new phone. My first camera phone. That's exciting. Think I've run up a bit of a bill already with downloads and crap. Whoops.

Well, er, fuck all else. Should probly go and do some assignments, but I don't particularly want to, y'know? At least I'm thinking about it. Don't usually do that till Sunday.

xx

The meaning of your life

2005-02-21T19:59:00.000Z

So what, I have to write stuff in here what happens or what I do? What the fuck does anyone care about that? Well, you obviously do. Having looked through a few "blogs", I have come to the conclusion that all "bloggers" seem to be cunts and/or (usually and) geeks. So I thought I might as well do one. Check back regularly, because I might write something else one day. If you're lucky.

x

2005-02-21T19:46:00.000Z

James is a cunt