Wednesday, July 30, 2008
According to Google, My Mother Is A Dirty Whore
What any sane person does in a situation like this is Google. So when I got home, I typed "peg shaped tooth" into the search box thing, and read though the results: "Peg shaped teeth are a result of congenital syphilis" it said.
I got on the phone to my mother, who had spent most of my adolescence proclaiming the joys of being a virgin before marriage, and announcing triumphantly how she had only, ever, slept with my father in her whole life, and outlining the importance of marital fidelity. "Hello Ma" I said. "How are you?". "Oh hello Noreen", she said. "I was going to ring you, I have some very sad news". Now I have never had a phone call with my mother in which she has not mentioned the recent death of someone I barely know, and the gaping hole their departure will leave in the lives of their nearest and dearest, and frankly, it gets on my fucking tits. This time I was ready for her. "Did you have the clap when you were pregnant with me, Ma?" I asked, quickly. "The what?" she said, faintly. "Syphilis". I said. "My dentist is Hungarian and he says you had the syphilis when you were pregnant, and it gave me strange teeth". "Who is this dentist?" She said angrily. "Is it the O'Leary boy?- he was a very disturbed child. "No, I said patiently. "You don't know him. And the O'Leary boy is not Hungarian, is he? Anyway he is only doing his job,this dentist, he is not the one with social diseases, giving their offspring deformed teeth". "I don't like Hungarians" she said "Their recognition of the Pope is rather begrudging, for all they call themselves Catholics, and they have peculiar Byzantine traditions. Do you remember the boy at the convent who was always scratching his backside, Zoltan something? He was a very strange child, and that mother of his had no idea how to feed the children, always shovelling great big donuts into them and sighing and looking pained all over the place. They're a funny lot. Don't listen to a word he said. Syphilis indeed".
She was not to be drawn on the subject any more, and to be perfectly honest I believed her, and I even started to feel slightly guilty about poisoning her mind against Magyars. So I blame Google, those knowitall fuckers. How dare they call my mother a whore! And yes, I do know Google host Blogspot, and they might well decide to hide my blog because I have insulted them, but I say this to you Google bastards: No one calls my mother a whore! My mother deos not have syphilis. Fuck off, geek cunts.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Into my hole
I have very little idea of why we are on this earth or what anything means, and I have very little interest in finding out, it seems like an almighty distraction from the real business of living, so creating a contrived basic survival situation for oneself in a civilised world is just plain gay. In fact, it did occur to me that the real thing the silly kid in the film (unfortunately it was a true story) was running from, was his burgeoning sexuality, which if I were to put money on it, would almost certainly be in the "fruit" category.
The main thing that sets us apart from the simple animals with whom we share the earth, is our sense of the ludicrous. If we ever lose sight of our true path in life, which is always closer to farce than we would probably like to admit, then we lose our way. For living as we do in a world devoid of purpose, where people scratch around looking for something, anything, to give them meaning and make human lives seem that little bit more worthwhile, we miss the eternal irony that we, the ones with the consciousness, are nature's joke, and that to laugh with her is the best way to realize our potential such as it is. Into the wild can go up my hole.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Cunts won't wear them
Channelling Mr. T
*Yes Philip Challinor, I know my middle name is actually Assumpta, but I am taking the artistic licence on this one.
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