Friday, December 10, 2010


Wikileaks: Yawny yawny cunt cunt

Whistle blowers are frightful cunts. Usually they end up dead, either assasinated by the CIA or terrorists, or they die because in a moment of rare insight, they realise that the only decent thing to do, is to stop boring on about secret things and to end it all. A very selfish few manage to carry on living, gnawing away at the ears and eyeballs of anyone presented with their tedious, sneaky yawnery.

Most people have not managed to work this out, because they are too stupid, but secret documents carry a secret classification, because they are so very, immensely dull that only a few people with a very high boredom threshhold are able to look at them without their eyes bleeding.

I never want to look at secret things. Like whispering and the Masons, secrecy is just incredibly gay. And most people's sacred, secret things are just the most enormously trivial, old bag of bollocks imaginable. But it's hard to get away from secrecy, even if you don't court it, which a lot of people do, it just fucking comes and finds you. Even I am not immune to secrets. In fact, I am particularly livid at the moment because I have been asked to take part in a Secret Santa. A fucking Secret Santa! I am not a stingy cunt so I am not going to be one of those ones who says "Oh I will not do the Secret Santa, I don't approve of it", because that's just mean and tedious. But I have to make a stand against all the secrecy - so I have bought the man a present of a mouse mat for his computer and have put "Dear Alan, Happy Christmas, love Noreen O'Brien" on the outside of it.

And now I have done it, haven't I - because that one from the Wikileaks - the Danish man, will be interfering with his Blackberry as I type this "Decipher yourself: Noreen O'Brien has bought Alan a present in the Secret Santa". Well, Mr Leaks, now you know it all- but once something is posted on the internet, it no longer is classified or secret - so stick that up your pale, lanky, pastry-pooping hole


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