Wednesday, June 29, 2005


Am I A Big Fruit?

I recently extravagantly scratched my arse, through my trousers mind you. I liked it, it was satisfying. Then I smelled my fingers. I liked that too. Does this make me a homosexual? I am worried.
Ball Bag

Thursday, June 23, 2005


Stand Back! You are not a Bloodhound

I like a bit of distance in life, I like a clear view ahead of me and a bit of room to move about. Clearly, there are times when this is impossible, like rush hour on the tube, or getting your round in at closing time, and in those situations, people go in on themselves, do they not? into a personal, safe, but imaginary zorb, or they kill

This is called a coping mechanism and I need one of those because I fucking hate it when people stand really close to me, I really feel a great rage. There is this one woman, I know, she gets up all close and sort of sniffs at you. She always makes a comment about scent, and being a very, very classy bird I do not douse myself in the stuff, the idea is that fucking expensive perfume, should be discreet, it is to be used AS WELL as washing, not to mask foul odours, like impulse or those Lynx sprays. So yes, when I wear scent, I spray it on my décolletage, not all around my head like I want to keep the flies off. You should only be able to tell what perfume a woman is wearing when you are in bed with her. So if this one is saying to me “Oh, is that Anna Sui” then she is way, way to close.

Anyway, this woman, she always stands so close and leans in as well, so you cannot do the thing where you transfer your weight to the back foot and lean back, as she is just there, getting closer and closer. I have on occasion taken a crafty step away, but the hide of this woman! She just comes on after you. She does it to everyone, it is not just because she likes sniffing at me, and no, she is not deaf, before some do-gooder pipes up there and says “well the hard of hearing, they NEED to stand closer” Fuck off, she is not a deafer. Jesus, I wish she would get the hint and fuck off. I have no interest in sniffing people or getting so near I can see their bogeys and the vellous hair on their cheeks, that is what an American would call Too Much Information, and I would call it being a weirdo cunt-loony

Wednesday, June 22, 2005


Is that food there in my drink? it had better fucking not be, I'm warning you!

Pimm's is a cunts drink. It is made from gin which is filthy stuff, the beverage of choice for mediaeval villains and prostitutes, now sipped by people who think they are "refined" the utter, utter saddos. But Pimm's is far worse than gin, as that appalling advert shows, the type of arseholes who drink it really do make sure all their friends are called Rupert and harp on endlessly about the tedious minor public school they attended, as if anyone over school age really gives a flying fuck where anyone else was educated, unless of course, they are utter, utter cunts.

But quite apart from pimm's and arseholes always being hand in hand, and the fact that the stuff gives me a raging hangover, the main reason I loathe pimm's is because it has fruit and vegetables in it. I like fruit and vegetables but if I ever caught myself eating strawberries, cucmber and raw mint, fucking raw mint at the same time I would call an ambulance. Raw mint! the dirty, dirty bastards. If I were faced with those foods I would eat the cucumber first and then the strawberry. Most of all, the difference between me and a Pimm's fan is that I would eat the fruit and vegetables not drink them. Because I am not a lunatic. Why would you drink cucumber chunks? what the fuck! I hate people who put strawberries in champagne as well, they are right cunts, and I do not like lemons in drinks either, they make no difference at all to the flavour and they get in the way.

Monday, June 20, 2005


What in the name of Mary, Mother of God is a meme?

Everyone is on about "memes", the word is everywhere, "meme" this and "meme" that. What the fuck is a meme? I had no idea at all. Until yesterday, when I got one and discovered the "meme" is a fucking questionnaire, but with even more ludicrous questions in it than the ones you get for the census, or those ones which if you answer them, you have a chance of winning a telly. Those are just fucking nosey questionnaires, the census and the customer surveys, all wanting to know how much you earn and what you do in your spare time, so the questions they are all geared towards finding out the personal information, so people can force you to buy things or just tax you a lot.

These meme questionnaires, on the other hand, are just raw sewage, liquid shite of the most utterly shitey kind. A list of questions which have clearly been pulled out of the arses of a team of idiots. All hilariously random, they are, the meme questions, one minute it is asking something all deep like "stoic or epicurean" and the next it is like "what is on your shelf?". The real reason for the questionnaire is hidden in between these shitehole random questions, it is usually something like "say something great about the person who sent you this" and then there might be a "why do you really like the person who sent you this" one and maybe, just in case you are a bit of a thickwad there will be a last -gasp- "If you had to descibe the person who sent you this would you choose "amazing" "uninhibited" or "beautiful within and without". Cunts

Anyway that is the meme and it gets sent around to your friends and everyone tries to sound more interesting than the one who sent it to them. My friend Stuart sent me this one, the great big cunt, but he has broken his ankle and lives in New Zealand so you can imagine it is pretty fucking boring, and you would resort to anything really, to take the mind off all that pain and greenery. You can do it if you like, if you can understand it, half of the questions are not even questions, they are written like a statement, probably just because those people on the bottom of the world inflect their voices up like they are always asking a question so that they can just say a word like "genitals?" and you immediately assume they are asking you if you like or have genitals, whereas if I were to say "genitals" to you, it would sound like an insult. And guess what? it would be. Fucking foreign bastards, I can't cope with it. Anyway I have answered the questions as best I can, despite the fact they are in antipodeanish.

WHAT'S YOUR FULL NAME Noreen Assumpta O' Brien
WHAT ARE YOU READING nothing, I hate reading
WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? the fucking mouse, isn't it. Jesus Christ
BABIES what about them? ask a fucking question moron
FAVOURITE SOUND: buildings being demolished, all that crashing and blasting
HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? I always turn the bastard off and listen to the messages, I hate phones
IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE I can play lots of instruments, playing instruments is overrated, I would unlearn playing them, except for the kazoo, that is magnificent
DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? What? fuck off I am not mental
WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? I can't fucking drive, can I, so why would I have a fucking car
WISH YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME AND TALK TO? No, I have no interest in the past it has happened. I've seen "back to the future", there is a can of worms if you start that nonsense
DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI? Why? do you want them? fucking fruitcake
YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB YOU WANTED WHAT WOULD IT BE I would not want a bastard job thank you, it is better to be to be minted and idle
WHO'S LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?a dead person, or maybe a mute.
IS THE GLASS HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL? It is in your fucking forehead, so I hope it is half full with brains and blood, you cunt
WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? I have no idea
WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING? the bra, I do not want tits scraping the floor when I am an old woman
WHERE'S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE TO BE? in front of the television
WHAT'S MOST IMPORTANT, STRONG IN MIND OR STRONG IN BODY? Why do I have to fucking choose you moron? what is this
DO YOU BELIEVE IN AN AFTERLIFE? I really hope there is not one, I have had enough
WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SEASON? Summer or all year in a hot country or none at all in shitholes like canada and Norway
YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE? I wouldn't though, would I because I am a fucking human, you cock
IF YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT? Of course I don't have a fucking tattoo do I look like an utter cunt?
WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE DAY? I don't know really, I would say a tuesday, I was born on one and you eat pancakes on them too.
OF THE PEOPLE YOU WILL EMAIL THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST? I won't email it, I will shove it on the blog and it will be a woman I am sure of it
WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE MEAL Curry. Fried eggs on fried bread, and no I am not fat you cunt
DO YOU HAVE PETS? tortoises, but they live outside and I ignore them, they are more like having flies, or snails.


Eagles, better than pigeons, as good as a bat

I saw an eagle yesterday, you know a large bird. It was flying around. Eagles are great, they are as large as a child but better than children because they can fly, and catch vermin with their feet. I watched the eagle for a bit, flying about and being large, it was cool, better than a pigeon. I have seen a bat before, bats are really great, all the radar and actually looking more like a shrew than a bird, like two animals in one, flying up there all blind, but still a bit of a rodent. But the eagle was alright, like I say, probably as good as seeing a bat, and far, far better than a crap bird like a sparrow or one of those black ones.

I mentioned seeing the eagle to this woman a bit later. "I saw an eagle" I said, and then she says "Oh, was it majestic?". I hate this. You can try it out if you like, if you say eagle to someone they will say "majestic" in the next sentence. Or they might even say " as majestic as an eagle" or "the majesty of the eagle, it is great, is it not". However they come out with it, they will say the word majestic pretty close to the word eagle, I am telling you. An eagle is just that, an eagle, it is not the king of anything at all, and I would like to meet a king who can fly about and eats rats and kittens.

Saturday, June 18, 2005


The Ultimate Fighting Championship Is A Piece Of Piss

I was recently flicking between TV stations when I stumbled across the Ultimate Fighting Championship. This is two blokes in a cage fighting to the death or something. The only rule is - there are no rules, or some bollocks like that.

Well let me tell you, I was not impressed. As I have now been outed as a rugby player (and a rugby player of not inconsiderable talent I might add), I can tell you that it is no worse than the off the ball antics in a rugby match. The two blokes square up, throw a couple of punches - that almost always miss - then grapple on the floor until one of them works an arm free to give the other one a smack round the head. It is shit.

I was expecting broken bones and eyes gouged from thier sockets, but it is just fruity nonsense.

If I wanted, I could easily be the Ultimate Fighting Champion. I just don't want to is all.

Friday, June 17, 2005


Move over Fred West, James Blunt has arrived!

I have just bought the James Blunt album, Back to Bedlam, and it is truly wonderful. Music so beautiful, it drives a stake through your heart. However, I think James Blunt is a murderer, because he is always saying goodbye to people. There is one about stalking a woman on the tube called “you’re beautiful”, and he starts off all positive about how is going to get it on with this woman, even though she is on the tube and with another bloke, and by the end, he is not going to see her ever again, and that is because he kills her, I am quite sure of it. Then there is one called “goodbye my lover” and it says “goodbye my lover and my friend”, so that could be one or two people, and then he has one called “so long Jimmy”, so that is Jimmy there under the patio too. And then there is one called “Billy”,as well, the poor bastard. And the song called “high” starts off “beautiful Dawn” and then he is on about being high, and we all know that for a killer, being high, is dangerous and he would be most likely to kill or maim while he is high, and the next thing he says is that this woman, she “melds with the stars” which is code for dead.
So, yes ,that James Blunt might have the voice of an angel, but he has the knife of a butcher too. Don’t catch his eye, you’ll be murdered and he’ll be singing about it, the loony.

Thursday, June 16, 2005


A Question For Our Gay Readers

I want to know if gays get turned on by lookling at their own genitals. So come on, all you fruits, let us know.
Ball Bag

Wednesday, June 15, 2005


No. I do not want to go to the theatre. Fuck off!

It is not a nice thing, for me, to be taken out to the theatre, I do not like it at all. I have been a few times, and even pretended to like it. Once I went and saw this Spanish play where two of the actors dry humped each other for hours and hours and everyone was screaming and clutching themselves and running about. I did not understand a word of it, I think I was only there because I was hoping to get a ride out of it.

Theatres are expensive and you have to be quiet, unless you are one of those braying cunts who laughs in a smug and loud 6 -figure- salary arsehole way. I hate those fuckers, why would they want to advertise to the world what very great cunts they are? You can only really get away with that sort of behaviour in a theatre because everyone has their cunty boots on in a theatre. All pleased with themselves that they have spent twenty quid on watching people instead of on two KFC buckets.

I get past hating theatres by going to sleep in them. At least they are dark and quiet apart from the cunts with the laughing. The seats could be better though, I hate the way they catapault you out, just as you are moving around to rest the other side. The neighbours you have in a theatre are not always that great about sleeping audiences either. I went to sleep during the Barber of Seville once, despite all the warbling and screeching and great posturing movement, and I woke up at the end on this man’s shoulder. “Oh dear!” I said. “Did I sleep on you?”. “you did” he said “and you snored”. He was no gentleman was he? Telling a woman she snores will never win you points. Besides, it is quite normal to snore. Silly fucker.

The main problem I have with the theatre is when you have your dinner. I like to eat my dinner around the time of most plays. Restaurants are in on it, I reckon, because you get these ones near theatres advertising the “pre and post performance special menu”. My great arse it is a special menu, it is a way of forcing people to eat at weird times. I feel all deprived if I have my dinner too early, it is like the end of the fun of the day, and the idea of waiting to eat and sitting in a darkened hall with people humping away and screeching, while the only thought in my head is of a huge pile of food, available just next door, well why would I do that?

Tuesday, June 14, 2005


Why keep a dog, and bark yourself?

Animals have hair, spines scales, and hides you can make into shoes. Why then, do people dress them in clothes? Apart from it being unnecessary, it makes sensitive people like me feel a,bit sick.

Small dogs should not need outergarments, unless their owner is slightly mental and thinks the dog is a person. Dogs in jackets often eat from bone china, and won’t eat real dog food out of a tin, preferring chocolate and hand poached chicken. For fuck’s sake! If I were nice, I would feel sorry for the people and the clothed dogs, the lonely humans whose only friend licks its own balls and howls, the dog forced into tartan and carried about. I am a cunt though, so I will not feel sorry for them, just want to set doggie and owner alight.

I hate intelligent animals and I hate animals wearing costumes which suggest they are as clever as humans. That must be because I am threatened by them. When you are low down on the intellect percentile, clothed dogs seem like a very real threat. Oh fuck that, I hate self-deprecation too, it is for cunts. I am very very clever, but I hate clever animals,and animals in clothes, except for donkeys in the hats with holes for the ears.

Monday, June 13, 2005


I Don't Hate Gay People, But I Have Never Met A Gay Person I Didn't Hate

I don't hate gay people, I really don't (I mean proper bummers, not gay people in the way that you are all gay, I hate all of you), and yet I have never met a gay that I did not hate.

I think it is because we have nothing in common - for instance, I don't like musicals or Cher or Kylie Minogue or having a cock up my arse, and they do. I don't understand why they all talk in that strange gay accent they use and why do they call everyone a bitch, even men? It irritates me. Did they always talk in that voice, or did they just start doing it when they realised they were gay?

I also wonder why they think that most straight people they meet are gay. People like me who like rugby and beer and smoking and manly stuff are secretly gay according to gays. Apparently we are trying a little bit too hard to be straight. Does that mean that they are secretly straight? A gay man who wears make-up and enjoys showtunes is trying a little bit too hard to be gay, so therefore must be straight.

Harry Hutton once made an excellent point that he does not like broccoli, yet nobody claims that he secretly does like broccoli or that he was traumatised by broccoli as a child. He is a wise man, that Hutton, but don't bother visiting his webiste - it is pure shite.
Ball Bag

Ball Bag is right!
Harry has been lucky with the broccoli. I find that the minute I say I do not like some type of food, everyone is trying to tell me that I do really. Like oysters, those live snotballs. I don't like them, but oyster lovers don't get it at all. They say stuff like "oh you have never had them done properly" Done? Done? you eat the miserable little fuckers raw, don't you? Fucking fish bogeys.On the other hand, I like tofu, the gay soy cheese that hippies eat but I do not try and convince non-hippies to eat it.

Friday, June 10, 2005


Update! My Friend's Ugly Baby Is Now Hugely Fat

A recent post made reference to the fact that my friend has spawned one of the ugliest babies I have ever seen. I have just seen it again recently, and it is now hugely fat. When I saw it I could not help but exclaim "Look at the size of it!". Its mother seemed pleased with her lardy offspring, she said it was "a real bruiser" and claimed that "solid is not the word" to describe it. She is right, solid is not the word, fat is the fucking word.
Ball Bag

Thursday, June 09, 2005


Death to all pushy people including atheists

I hate pushy people very much. I hate pushy people who try and sell you things you do not want. I hate pushy women who talk about their gifted offspring. I hate people whose lifestyle choices become "their philosophy" which they poke down your throat at every opportunity, and I hate religious nutjobs too. Being religious is a personal choice. If you want to believe a very important gibbon in the sky controls the universe, go on and do it. If you go about doing random and ostentatious acts of kindeness in a bid for a front seat in the good place of an afterlife, well fine. If you think you used to be a horse, and you want to be a giraffe in the next life, well good for you. Really. Chant, pray, bathe yourself, smear yourself in ashes, roll down the street, grow hair or shave the whole fucking lot off, lock stock, and barrel, I do not give a flying fuck.

What gets right up my arsehole are people who try and foist religion onto you. The thing which makes religious people wankers is the thought that if they are not busy converting people then they are not being religious enough. This is a load of old horseshit and just a way of making boring people even worse. Most of them come out with the pushing of religion early on in the conversation, like they will say "what are you doing on saturday" and you might say "Oh, nothing" and then they will say "I would like you to come to my chanting, hand holding and sprituality through dance and mime session". This is fucking irritating, and yet sweetly honest. You know they are only after your soul, the bastards, so you can murder them then and there, or be all peaceful with a quick V sign and a nippy exit. Whatever, these people are up front about religion, even if they are still boring cunts. Then there are stealth evangelists, ones who invite you to watch sport or go out for dinner and before you know it they are fucking praying away in public in a loud and praising way. They are terrible, terrible people. Then there are the "you are wrong" people who will not leave it, and a lot of those are atheists. You would think being an atheist was just that, being a godless person, but a lot of them are as pushily cunty about being an atheist as the God Squad or the loonie-toonies are about their respective cults. Some atheists will go on and on about fossils around religious ones that believe in the ark, or they will harp on about fucking Nietsche until you really could just shit. If there is no God, then fine, but going on and on and having a real go at the poor unfortunates who have some kind of a way of coping with the cruel old world, just makes these religious people think the atheists are threatened by their fuckwitted religious beliefs . Then they are on the rollercoaster of "I am right", the religious people. They say "oh, well if there really weren't a god, why doth that atheist protest so much (John chapter 5 verses 9-12) " and the religious people become even more convinced that their dancing and chanting is totally important and an essential part of a rounded and happy good life on this earth. And from there, the religious ones decide that the pushy atheists always trying to make them stop believing in God, are actually the Devil or some other embodiment of the dark side. Evangelists with, or without a deity in their lives, and those actively not having a deity around them should all be crucified or burnt at the stake. Amen


I hate myself

Most people would agree that Jamie Oliver is fucking irritating. There is all the mockney talking, "sorted" this and "nice one" that. He wears clothes which, despite looking like he has stolen them from a junkie's corpse, are the type which cost an absolute fortune. Those jeans with the rips and holes, all bagging low beneath the arse crack, and T-shirts with stuff written on them. And most of all he is annoying because of his tongue. It is too big for his mouth, and I know he cannot help that, but a tongue does not need to loll out all the time. Yes, I suppose it might be tricky to keep all of the tongue inside, but there must be a way of folding it up behind his teeth. His tongue spends more time outside his gob than in. That is the wrong balance of in and out.
I love his recipes though. I got his book as a present, and they are fucking marvellous. I wanted to hate them but I did not. I am definitely a cunt. Cunty bollocksy cunty penis

Wednesday, June 08, 2005


Crayons or Cutlasses?

I can't decide which I like better - crayons or cutlasses. I would fucking love a cutlass. I would carry it around and I would slice anybody who pissed me off, it would make me feel like a pirate. But, on the other hand, crayons can be used for colouring in and for sticking up childrens' nostrils. Colouring in is really brilliant.

So let's have a poll. Which do you like better? Just answer crayon or cutlass.
Ball Bag

Tuesday, June 07, 2005


Massage: all wrong

It is important to have new experiences, isn't it? I like trying new things because I generally hate them, and then I think "good I am glad I never did that before, it was fucking terrible" and if I like the thing then I say "now then, there is something new to look forward too. Hurrah!". This is called being an optimist. It means whatever you do, it is great, which makes a lot of sense. After all, why waste your time doing terrible things you do not have to? There is no point in that., that is like the self destructive behaviour. Cunt work

My friend was going on and on about massage and how wonderful it is, it makes you thin and relaxed and cures everything. I have never had a massage, because I am very ticklish. I have had my feet reflexologised, and that was okay because it was quite painful and they went on about diseases and stuff, which was barking, but cool. With real massage it is your body they fiddle with, and you have to get undressed and keep still for an hour. I find that hard, not the undressing, but the keeping still unless I am asleep. Anyway, I thought I would try it, to shut this woman up from going on and on.

It was just appalling. I had to get off all of my clothes and wear knickers made out of paper, and the last time I wore those was after having a baby, so the associations were already of a traumatic bloodbath, not a relaxing pamper session. Then this woman started stroking me and I hated it. It was ticklish and just plain weird. I do not like being stroked, it makes me feel a bit sick. I am not a fucking cat. Also, I do not have a sore back or any problems like that which could get better from the massage, so there is none of that "oh, now I will be able to do up my shoelace again" side of it. I am perfectly okay without it. The worst bit though was that when she had finished rubbing away at my back, I turned over and she started stroking at my tits. I looked at her to see if she was getting some kind of a kick out of it, as I got ready to grab her by the hair and smack her nose down into the gurney I was lying on. Nope, she looked normal. I then asked her not to do it and she said "Oh, I massage all the body it is important for the drainage or some variation of that bollocks". Anyway, I fucking hated it. I hate that weird in between thing they call "tactile" or something, which I reckon is code for "a bit frigid, but still after some perve". I asked my friend about the tit groping afterwards, just in case I was being really naive and this woman was violating me, and the friend gave me a lecture about not being so uptight and stuff. Fucking neck of it. I hate being touched up, unless I am about to be penetrated by a large, erect penis. Tactile massage bollocks, fuck off

Monday, June 06, 2005


Evolve! you creepy little monkey bastards

I want to go camping in Spain. Only one thing is stopping me-
monkeys. I hate monkeys, whether they are wearing clothes advertising tea, banging their heads against the wall in a zoo or wanking away in a jungle, they are horrible. They have nasty little faces and great wormy mangy tails and make that fucking stupid hoo-hoo-ha-ha noise all the time. There are monkeys in spain, and not just ones that you have your photograph taken with on the end of a chain, real ones, running about and stealing your hat, the little bastards.

A lot is made of the fact that monkeys or apes or whatever you want to call animals that look a bit like Robbie Williams, are close relatives of the human. That may well be so, but like many families, it is neither possible nor indeed necessary for every family member to like each other. I hate my monkey relations a whole load, and the main reason I hate them is their nasty little hands. I was going on and on about monkey's hands the other day and this smart arse interrupted "actually, monkey's hands are not like the human hand because they lack a posable thumb" Fucking bollocks and arse to that, I do not care whether their thumb is posable or not, it is still a fucking thumb. Other animals do not have fingers and thumbs, they have paws and hooves. Those are real animals, the ones with paws and hooves or even claws, they are alright as well. Fingers and thumbs are for humans, monkeys fuck off

Sunday, June 05, 2005


Dick Cheney: native American and international cunt

Eskimo. Is there an Eskimo here? Noreen wants me to link to a site, or a person, called Eskimo.

American campuses don’t like the word Eskimo anymore. They prefer Inuit, just as they say “Native American” when they mean “Warlike Redskin”. Which is ridiculous; everyone born in America is native there. Dick Cheney is a Native American. What else is he? He’s not a native anything else. He is a cunt, however, and cunts, like the proletariat, have no country (Karl Marx).

Did you realise that Eskimos have 43 different words for cocksucker?

Saturday, June 04, 2005


My bush smells like a dead body

There is a tree in my garden which has quite pretty flowers on it but they fucking stink. It is called bougainevilla or something. A stupid old Doris was on about this plant the other day "oh the heady smell of it" she said. "heady!" .I don't know what heady means, it is not a word I would use. Anyway, it does not smell like anybody's head, whether it be the one on their shoulders or the one in their trousers, it smelt like a dead body. And I know what a dead body smells like because I found a corpse in the street once.And I did not need to get down there and sniff it to find out ,the smell of a corpse it is quite pungent all by itself

Friday, June 03, 2005


The Blog Police

There have been a few visitors recently who are getting offended by the content on here. I have been pretty patient and tried to explain, again, what it says in the tagline. It is getting really boring having to listen to these festering commenting tossers and weirdos being rude to us. If you are offended by this blog, or you do not like it, or it is not "funny" enough for you here, then really do please just fuck off. And those of you who think they are so very fucking nice and special, here's one for you: I do not hang around gardening forums, or creative writing forums being rude to people practising their hobbies, and announcing I am offended by them. Which I am, by the way, very offended by people with boring hobbies, especially "writers", they are gynaecologists' cunts. If I dislike something, I write about it here. That is the fucking point of this blog. This site is for me and ball bag and barry to moan and bitch about the things which annoy us. This makes us better mannered than you, you sad sad fuckers. Now please, be sweet and fuck off back to your busy, busy lives and let us get on with having a moan. Thank you


Noreen is perfectly correct.

Criticising this stuff as if it were literature is the behaviour of a cunt. Noreen and Nutsack have positioned themselves in the calling-people-cunts niche market, and it’s too late to do anything about it now, however much you whinge. They have made their cake, and now they must lie in it. For you cannot have your bed and eat it.

As for not being funny: Noreen really is funny. And Ball Bag, well, I’m sure he’s doing his best. You’re not going to turn him into Oscar Wilde by telling him “Be funny” all the time, any more than you can make sausages cook faster by shouting at them.

The next time someone calls us childish we will change their name to Arsewipe. On this point, as indeed on all points, we are firm.

Thursday, June 02, 2005


Hutton the cunt

Well I never. I see that cunt Harry has been cunting around with the cunting colours, while everyone was asleep.

A world-class cunt, he is.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005


Should I Fuck My Elderly Neighbour?

Last week my elderly neighbour bought a new widescreen TV. She phoned me to see if I could help her carry it in from the car and set it up. I grumpily agreed, I dislike helping people.

Whilst setting up this huge brute of a TV, she asked me, I think in reference to my TV, but I can't be sure, "Do you have a big one?". Surely even an old person can see the sniggering humour in this, but she didn't just ask me once, she asked me on THREE seperate occasions. That cannot be an accident.

So what I want to know is this: Do you think that my elderly neighbour wants my cock? And, if so, should I fuck her?
Ball Bag

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