Welcome, internet minions. You appear to have stumbled upon my 'blog'. Stupid word, but nonetheless. If you appreciate the art of angry rambling then you're in the right place. Stick around.

Friday, 29 January 2010

I hate men.

As a majority. Can you not see how heinously far I am out of your league? And that's not even me being funny... Whatever I fucking do, there is always some creep waiting to try and chat me up. I don't dress/act like a slut, I don't flirt with people, I don't even have suggestive eyebrows. So lulwut? Sort it out, male popularity. (In fact, sort it out, ugly male popularity. Attractive men seem to have tact...)

I think most of them have the mindset of "Yeah, so what, I have to ask, what's the worse that could happen?" Well sonny... One day, you may come across a small angry girl with PMS who is just not in the fucking mood for your disgusting lechery, and she will break you in half. So, if you're ugly and lonely and reading this because you are one of the aforementioned pervs that thinks you have a chance, back the fuck away and watch the fuck out because if I see you, ya dead starr.

Also, Morrison's steak pie is shamefully inferior to Pukka Pies' steak pie. They would have been better off naming it 'gristle pie'... How disappointing. If I could be bothered, I would write some sort of complaint letter. For now I'll be content with posting it on the internet...

Last thing: Next person I see cattin ma flex will be the recepient of a filthy, filthy look. You have been warned you slags.

Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Dear Life Cereal...

I wrote this on the 26th of January, before I had a blog. Ha-ha.

3:09am

Interests - Music, writing, reading, motorbikes, sleeping, sex, other people, organized religion's continued existance, food, ranting, the mind

Music journalism? Journalism in general. Get to see interesting places, travel the world, still academic. Would probably have to talk to shit bands though.
Be in a band? Unfortunately, not enough drive to learn an instrument properly, get frustrated too easily.
Sleeping is not a career choice. Best to let this one go.
Erotic novel writing? ... Gay. Could cause death by lulz
Sexual psychology could be interesting. Although would probably involve boring stuff and would annoy me. And bit of a bullshit subject rly
Psychology related subjects in general? Need to look into this more.
Theological studies? Possibly. Although would probably be full of bible bashers. Consider, theological psychology or something. Effects of organized religion, controlling aspects etc. Theological history? Could essentially be sunday school without the propaganda... Come back to this
Food critic. Could be a very enjoyable career choice, although would probably have to eat something tomato-based at some point. This could end in nervous
breakdown. Reconsider, look into. Do I have a choice in what I eat? What is the probability than in the future I would have to review a restaurant that serves only tomato-based products?
Professional ranter(ist? ite?) Is this a job? If not, contact Department for education. Suggest new option for universities. This could tie in well to journalism. Consider contacting Jeremy Clarkson. Or, become famous in order to secure weekly column in newspaper. SERIOUSLY THINK ABOUT THIS ONE.

In conclusion, it appears my talents lie in writing nonsensical and pointless lists at 3:17am in the morning, therefore leading me to believe I should probably pursue a career in something writing-related. Find a niche. Don't want to study something shit like English Literature at A-Level though, would probably eat own head. Consider proof-reading as a part time endeavour. I WISH I WAS A SUPER GENIUS OF SOME SORT.

Things I am definitely not interested in:
Biology. Study of the human body can fuck off. I don't want to know how my ovaries work, they annoy me enough already. Knowing that plants give out oxygen is more than enough on this subject thank you.
Geography. Nuff said. Earth's crust? Paah. I'm more interested in pizza crust.
PE. LOLOLOLOLOL WTF? Was this subject created for people who can't think? I mean, really. I'm sure about 98% of child molestation in schools is linked to PE teachers. [Footnote: Incantation are fucking awesome. I wish I had been part of the early 90s New York death metal scene. They must be super self-actualized].
Mathematical Statistics. Aite, I love maths and only wish that others could see it's horrifying relevance in the modern world, but come on. Nobody likes stats. Even statisticians.
Anything to do with nursing, or old people. Props to nurses and shit, but I personally would not like to get sicked on by other people. Thanks. Also, I have no heart and do not care whether other people are ill or not. I would be instantly fired if I purused a career in nursing or care (jajaja lol). "We think
this man has been having pulmonary embolisms," "...Fuck off, I'm trying to eat my sandwich. I mean, Christ. Look at this thing. It's like a... A god in sandwich form. Not that I believe in god, mind. Leave me alone." And I concur.
Anything remotely linked to teenagers. I am one myself and I can't stand them. I'm quite sure I am a 67-year-old allotment keeper stuck in a sexy, sexy body. Damn.
Anything to do with the council. Fuck. That. Shit.

Consider a teaching job, possibly headmaster position. I love talking about how wonderful I am, isn't that what they do? I could get someone to do filing for me. Not that I can't file documents, I could do that shit onetime. But when one must devote one's time into thinking up elaborate ways of working oneself into casual everyday conversation, one cannot concern oneself with the menial task of filing one's documents. Booyah.

I have really not helped myself at all. Once again, what started as a serious foray into my own mind has become a one-woman comedy show that I am writing solely for my own amusement. Education? PAAAH! Give me a textbook and a packet of crisps, I'll have learnt this shit in a day (unless a new Assassin's Creed game comes out, in which case it will take me a week and a day).

Secondary conclusion: I am destined to roam the Earth trying to find my niche. Will probably find niche in a burger joint in Tenessee or somewhere equally tragic. Hopefully will get talent scouted by dude in tight trousers looking for charismatic and feisty frontwoman/lyricist for his super-original doom-glam
metal band. We will storm the underground and become a national sensation, all eventually dying from overdosing on our own awesomeness, or consuming too much chocolate brioche. One day, tight-trousered dude. One day.

3:36am.

Yes, I am still here. I am not sure why, one has discovered the best thing to do is not question it. In fact, don't question anything. It's really annoying. I only wish I could blindly accept what the world churns out. I think I would be a lot happier if I wasn't the stark intellctual force that I am. It's
becoming a problem. Soon I fear it will interfere with my personal relationships, forcing me to chill only with other stark intellectuals. Who we all know, are a bunch of boring wankers who would be even more anal about apostrophe placement than I am. Plus, I dislike chillin wit people cleverer than me, So I suppose I will have to continue habiting among the commoners. What a shame.

I would join MENSA, but I don't like organized groups like that. And organization in general. It's ridiculous that such a boring factor is so important in the real world. I mean, looking at my albeit slightly untidy room, you would never assume it to be the breeding ground for breakthrough intelligence such as mine. Which I think is a damn shame. [Footnote: FUCK OFF FILTER KEYS. WTF IS FILTER KEYS ANYWAY? JUST BECAUSE I HELD DOWN SHIFT FOR 8 SECONDS DOESN'T MEAN I WANT TO TURN THE BASTARDING THING ON. MAYBE I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT WHAT TO WRITE NEXT...?! Fucking Microsoft. It's because of you that people stopped capitalizing the words at the beginning of sentences, in fear that they would accidentally turn on fucking filter keys. IF I WANTED TO TURN ON FILTER KEYS,
I WOULD FUCKING ASK IT. SO PISS OFF]. [Footnote: Wtf am I listening to, btw? I wasn't aware I had any shit experimental dubstep on here. Get off my iTunes, and more importantly, out of my ears].

I've lost my thread now, but I feel it is time to move onto something new anyway as whatever subject I was bullshitting on about before has started to bore me.I'm not sure if any offending culprits are reading this, seeing as only the most dedicated of stalkers will have come this far, but I have a bone to pick with you. What is 'definately?' Do you mean 'defiantly?' Why is the 'a' there? Who taught you to spell definite like that? It's definite, definitely. Not definate, definately. They are not words in the English language. Please man up and use the correct spelling, or expect a visit from the Grammar Nazis very, very soon. We will find you, and we will kill your firstborn sons. ALL OF THEM. NO MISUSE OF LANGUAGE, NO MERCY!

If I was King of England, I would see to it that everybody in the country was to attend a short course on correct apostrophe placement and use of "they're," "there," "their," etc. I understand that the Jews have invented some sort of fantasy disease known as 'Dyslexia', but we will tolerate their excuses no
longer. Dyslexia caused the fall of the British Empire. Dyslexia lets illegal immigrants in. Dyslexia is the reason you no longer leave the house after 9pm.Dyslexia is writing articles for the Daily Mail as we speak. Extra exam time?!?!?! I DON'T FUCKING THINK SO! If you are a not a proven mental retard, you
have NO EXCUSE not to be able to spell and arrange words correctly. If you ARE a mental retard, get yourself to a sanitarium quicksmart. Learn English. Or leave England.

I often wonder if anyone else is as amused by these late night ramblings as I am. I don't really know where it all comes from. It's a rare talent to possess, rambling. I'm still fine-tuning my techniques, but feel I am possibly surpassing the standards of professional ramblerists already, at my tender age of 81
(I wish). [Footnote: I would like to point out I am writing this without a backspace key. Just throwing that out there]. I've been a rambler for a few years now. Hmm, I sense a flashback. Yes... Yes...

On second thoughts, I am not going to write all that down. It isn't actually that interesting, and I also can't be arsed. Plus, to document historical events would be to lean away from the true ramblist spirit. One must not tar oneself by writing about real stuff. There are English graduates who do that,
and shit. [Footnote: Realised that very early Primordial sounds a BIT LIKE Cradle of Filth. A BIT. Not quite sure how to feel about this information].

4:02am.

I think I'm going to smoke a fag now. Brb.

4:05am.

Rolled fag, am smoking now. Also replaced the lightbulbs in my chandelier (yes, that's right. I got me a chandelier. What do you have? Nothing. Because you are a mere piss stain upon mortal peasantry). It's quite strange having light in my room. Found a packet of pez also. Why, and where the fuck did I buy pez sweets? No doubt from fucking Topshop or somewhere else equally as shit and overpriced. This angers me. I am now one of millions representing the blank face of consumerism. DAMNIT!

4:09am.

The intellectual standard of my rant has diminished. I'm going to stop now. If you're lucky, I'll write another one soon. [Footnote: I didn't actually post this with the intention of posting it on Gaybook. It begun as a serious note-to-self concerning my future in education, and somehow turned into pure procrastination. Damn you unemployment. Damn you to hell].


So long, stalkers. Don't get caught, and listen to old-school metal. Somebody told me it's good for the soul.

An Old One

So I thought I would start to note some things that irritate me. Just so you all know and can refrain from ever doing it.

1. Unnecessary Capitalisation Is Grammatically Incorrect And Incredibly Annoying To Read. Stop It.
2. People who add unnecessary extra letters onto their words need to SHUT THE FUCK UP. Heyyyyyyy babbyyyy howssss yooouuuu? FUCKOFFUCKOFFHSHUTUPSHUTUP
2a. Oh, and WTF is that "ii" thing about? Hii Babii ii Lovee iit Whenn Yuu Leeave Commenntzz On Mii Piiczz! Please, please, please go away... Please... Please :(
3. People who do smiley faces the wrong way round, like (: WHY?!?! That just confuses my poor astigmatic eyes, who have enough trouble with reading computer screens anyway. Sooo irrelevant. There's a reason it's ":)" BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE A SMILEY FACE, NOT A FUCKING BRACKET AND A COLON.
4. People who think they're thuper metul because they listen to fucking.. Shit. And know nothing about metal.
5. Metalcore. 'Nuff said.
6. Right. Since when did everyone in England stop drinking tea? This angers me. I blame the suits. Them and their stupid latte addictions. It is now IMPOSSIBLE to buy REAL (loose leaf, brewed in teapot, milk in first, mmm yummy) tea anywhere. For takeaway I mean. Hence, I have to pay £1.60 for a cup of fucking Twinings bullshit from Costa which tastes like hot ass water. Fuck off. Also, just teabags in general. They shouldn't exist. Except PG Tips. They're alright. NB: If you don't understand what I'm talking about then you are one of the people on my hate list. Search "LOOSE LEAF TEA" on google or buy some at Tesco's.
7. TfL. I can't even begin to try and word my pure malevolent HATRED for the fucking CUNTS at TfL.. Apparently the weekend closures are organised and overseen by a blind, deaf, dumb, autistic, brainless 8 year old, because for some reason, they think it's fine to just completely close ALL TRANSPORT from ANYWHERE NEAR harrow, thus adding about 2 hours onto my journey EVERY FUCKING WEEKEND, because OBVIOUSLY NOBODY NEEDS TO FUCKING DO ANYTHING ON THE WEEKEND DO THEY?!!? RIGHT WELL. YOU'RE CLEARLY BASTARDS. THANKS FOR MAKING ME LOSE SLEEP.
8. The Tube/London Overground in general. It angers me when I see fat, suited blokes taking up 8 seats on the Northern line. Aw, hard day? Sitting in your fucking spinny office chair with specially aligned back padding to make sure you don't get a sore back? FUCK OFF. I'VE BEEN STANDING UP FOR 8 HOURS SOLID, IN THE FREEZING COLD, WITH NO RUNNING WATER. I GET PAID £4 AN HOUR. GET THE FUCK UP AND LET ME SIT DOWN. Also, suits who push you out of the way to get on the train before you/push infront of you at the ticket barrier line. SORRY WUT?! Are you more important than me because you're a faceless corporate hound? Are you pushing me out of the way to make yourself feel better about the emptiness slowly filling your life? Boss not remembering your name? Loveless marriage? The 2.4 children who aren't doing so well at school because their daddy is never home? Did you have a pushy mother as a child? WELL. Boo fucking hoo. YOU WAIT YOUR FUCKING TURN. Man, I really have an unhealthy amount of Tube rage...
9. I outranted myself. Give me a minute to build up some anger.
10. Right. Spanish tourists. Sorry, are you aware this is fucking England? I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND SPANISH TU JODER. Also English tourists abroad. LEARN THE FUCKING LANGUAGE. Don't just talk louder and point. Tourists really grind my gears. You think because you're on holiday that everyone should be waiting on you hand and foot? Fuck off. I'm at work. Nice that you can afford a holiday, and are insecure enough to dick on a shop assistant. Nice one yeah.
11. I have worked in Camden since April. I walk past the noodle places EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY. And yet.. Still... "NOOOODAAAALL 4 POUN DAALING"... Sorry... Not a huge fan of canal rat fried in piss...
12. Annotations of an Autopsy and Suicide Silence = Not grindcore. Trigger the Bloodshed = Not brutal. Checker-shirted walking fringe-core bands = GAY. Behemoth = NOT DEATH OR BLACK METAL.
13. "You must be over 18 to..." Piss off. Actually just piss off. Thanks bureaucracy, I think instead of going to a gig I'll hang out on the street and take heroin. Fuck off complaining about ASBO-kids when they have absolutely NOTHING to do.

More later.