Fucking weather

Again, I apologise for the constant lack of updates. I have had other things on my mind and a certain lack of inspiration. But today, I just need to rant.
Let’s get one thing straight: I fucking HATE London with a passion. It’s crowded, it’s expensive and it’s full of southerners (okay, I kid, I kid. Southerners aren’t all bad).

Anyways, I was up at five this morning to get a taxi to the train station. Got a coach, got to London and then proceeded to spend three bastard hours on the tube because of delays due to the adverse weather.

Feeling as if I was going to pass out, scream or die of an anyeurism, I finally got to Finchely Road tube station and am now waiting in the pub for Shiv to finish his volunteer work for the day.

Beer. Mmm.

The thing is, I don’t get why the whole country shuts down in the event of snow. We’re practically a scandanavian country in terms of geographical location. We should be used to it. But NO. At the slightest sign of snow, the country just shuts down.
I used to live in a small village in central Italy called Trevignano. In the unlikely event of snow, the chains would come out on the wheels and the buses would stop running altogether.

In France, we had snow once every five years or so. I’m not used to snow. I hate it. It snows, gets slippy. The snow freezes and gets slippier. The ice starts to melt and you’re doing your best Wayne Gretsky impression as you hurtle down the street at 60 miles an hour before landing flat on your arse, much to the amusement of local chavs who proceed to pelt you with snowballs and call you a wanker.

And that, your honour, is why those Chavs are in the hospital. Ahem.

But seriously. The snow wears off it’s novelty after about three days or so, let alone two solid weeks of it. Kids build snowmen and I take great delight in beating the shit out of them (the snowmen that is). Even they get bored of it after about a week or so.

So, in resume, your honour, I am here because I fucking hate snow with a passion and it causes me to go slightly apeshit. I didn’t mean to faceplant that three year old when he threw a snowball at me. My alternate persona took over.

Not guilty, you say? By way of institutional insanity, you say? Sent to a psychiatric hospital for observation? Sounds great, just let me pack my- oh wait. How much is a room per night? Free?! Great! I’ve always wanted to be doped up on drugs and have somebody else wipe my arse.

They gonna take me away!
J

Prepare to be offended, shocked and appalled.

A recent, totally serious survey was conducted that proved (yes, proved) that 1 in 10 guys have unprotected sex due to the fact that they’re too embarrased to go to the pharmacy and buy condoms.

Pish, tiffle and snort, I say!  What in the world could be wrong with proudly proclaiming to a room of complete strangers that you have a penis and you’re going to poke something with it?  Well, if you’re one of those poor bastards who’s happy getting VD or a kid because you’re too scared to buy prophylactics, here’s J’s special guide on how to avoid embarrassment when shopping for condoms!

I’d like to just quell the discussion here by saying that I cannot be held responsible for any mental scarring and/or feelings of nausea caused by the content of this post.  If you feel ill because you’re trying to imagine me doing all of this stuff, then you’re a very sick person and I want your phone number and home address now.   K?  kthxbai.  Oh, we’ll also have Rhy and Nap providing theatrical examples of each point.  Now you know we’re getting fucked up.

1.  Browse for a while before making your purchase

Due to the sheer selection of rubber hoses available at your local pharmacy, it’s always best to take your time before buying.  Don’t just rush in there and grab the first pack you choose: you’ll usually end up disappointed.  Perhaps bring a loved one or significant other to help you in your purchase.  After all, her pleasure is important, too.  Here’s an example of a typical conversation that should unfold around the condom stall of the pharmacy:

What do you think honey?

This is so, so embarrassing…

I was thinking maybe the water-based ones… I- oh.  No.  They’re made by Ukranian orphans.  I’ll have none of that, thank you very much!  Excuse me, clerk!  Clerk!

What are you doing?

Just a sec, dear.  Clerk!  Excuse me!  Where can I find the fair trade condoms?

Aisle three, next to the ethically produced viagra.

Oh, yeah.  There they are!

Taking your time to choose condoms shows that for you, sex is nothing to be embarassed about.  It shows that you take the horizontal boogaloo seriously: no giggling, no inappropriate touching and no cuddling afterwards.  You want to show to the people in the store that you’re as cold as that hooker you murdered last week.

2. Make sure to buy a large selection in all shapes and sizes.

This shows people that your sex life is varied and can be fun.  Ideally, you want to purchase something that’ll give you a fond chuckle years on while reading the paper by the fire:

Oh, zose glow in ze dark condoms!  What a riot zey did give us!

I like to pretend that my penis is an anglerfish, and my partner is a foolish fish, ever hypnotized by a glowing lure in the dark.  You can pretend that your sexual congress is part of a nature documentary.  Hell, you could even get Richard Attenborugh to provide the commentary!

The anglerfishpenis is a solitary animal and tends to hunt alone in the dark recesses of the abyss.  It waits in the silt of the ocean floor, using it’s glowing lure to attract prey.

Bloop bloop bloop, I’m a fishy fish fish.  My life is so fucking cool!  I can swim and shit!  Hey… what’s that?  It’s all glowy… It’s shiny.  Ooh.  What… AH! AH! FUCK!  It’s got ahold of me!

The anglerfishpenis beats the prey into submission before – OW FUCK! My eye!

Oh.  Ah deed not see vous there, Richard.

3. Never, EVER buy normal sized condoms.

What, do you really want everyone to know you’re just an average Joe?  Fuck that, buy magnum sized condoms.  If they’re too big for you, just slap on a few rubber bands and your good to go.  Plus, the girl at the check out counter will be seriously impressed.

Ohmygosh.  But that means…

That’s right, baby.  I was actually thinking of getting penis reduction surgery.  My last partner died, I was there like a guy with his hand stuck in a vending machine; I had to get the medics to use the jaws of life to cut me out.  It was terrible.

Why do you keep on winking?

I, uh… It’s a motor disease.  I’ve actually got Parkinsons.

Of course, what she doesn’t know is that you’re lying through your back teeth.  But that doesn’t matter.  She still thinks you rock.  Just don’t sleep with her.  Ever.  Because then she’ll know that you’re the proud owner of a fruit roll-up.

4.If all else fails, pretend you’re a cheap bastard.

If you’re still embarrassed, then be inventive.  I knew a guy who pretended he was using them as balloons for a kid’s party.  Okay, so that guy was Napoleon and that never really happened.  But this is comedy, damnit!

Woah.  That sure is a lot of condoms.

Oui.  Mah name ees Honkee Ze Cloon and ah am short of munee.  So ah must bah condoms for ze childrens birthday party.

Wait, what?  You want to buy condoms for a kid’s birthday party? … the fuck?

Oui, oui.  For ze blow up balloons, n’est-ce-pas?

Hey, weren’t you the guy at my little brother’s birthday party?  The clown who passed out in the swimming pool in a puddle of his own vomit?

*looking up* Fuck, we’ve been rumbled!

Let us run!  Sacre bleu!

Or, failing that, you could buy them from a vending machine.

Go, go, go!

J

The queen is a twit (no, srsly)

The Royal Family, being the hip cool dewds that they are, have decided to get down with the kids.  What haven’t you heard? Charles is rolling with his G’s in the Peckham Boys (word up, boyeeee), his sons are dealing smack and pimping out their bitches (their words, not mine) and Albert is coming out with a rap album next year!

So with the era of change so wonderfully in swing, it’d only seem right that the Queen opened up her own Twitter page, right?  Internet stalking has never been easier!  Of course, the Queen being the Queen, she uses our hard earned tax money to pay someone to update it for her.  Joy.  So what if she actually wrote the updates herself, like any other internet nerd?  Well thanks to the wonders of imagination, you too can find out!

On 21 April, 2008 8.00: Happy birthday to me.  Charles gave me another set of holiday snaps.  Why can’t the little shit spend money on me once (okay, twice) a year?

On 22 April, 2008 15.36: Shit day yesterday.  At the bash, Albert threw up in the maids bra after thinking bottle of toilet duck was whiskey.  Thank fuck I don’t have to clear it up.

On 9th June, 2008 14.12: Royal visit to a hospital.  Was in children’s ward and a young boy coughed on me.  Must remind doctor to give me AIDS jab.

On 16th June, 2008 3.20: @Perez Hilton: LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE!

On 29th June, 2008 16.78 (wait, what?): Too hot.  William said he had an idea that he saw on something called Simpsons.  Pitched a tent in front of refridgerator, opened the door.  Was great until the motor burned out.

On 5th September, 2008 4.12: GIN!

On 9th October, 2008 18.03: Watching Eastenders really puts me in touch with the common people.

On 25th December, 2008 14.44: Just watched my speech on equality in the world.  Had troubles keeping a straight face!  Albert passed out in toilets.

On 1st January, 2009 0.05: Hppy noo yer you band f misrble cnts.

On 1st January, 2009 8.23: Sorry about last update.  Albert’s finally figured out what a computer is.

On 5th February, 2009 2.32: Charles trying to kill me. Call police. Now. Please.

On 6th February, 2009 8.46: APRIL FOOLS!  The day Charles takes over is the day Hell freezes over.

On 6th February, 2009 10.02: Just been informed that April Fools is on April 1st.  Press outside the palace, they thought I was srs.

On 1st April, 2009 8.56 APRIL FOOLS! Oh, wait…

On July 25th, 2009 10.17: Just saw a blog mocking me and my twits.  Forward to Death: FUCK YOU!

Till next time,

J

The Bible According to FTD

So we’ve got the Lolcat bible, the Mormon bible and I’m pretty sure Chuck Norris has his own version out there somewhere.  I mean what the fudge?  I figure, all these bibles out there, why should FTD have it’s own version?  Of course, this foray into the blasphemous nether-regions comes out of sheer boredom on my part.  But Goddamnit (or rather Jamesdammit in this case) it’s a way to pass a Saturday afternoon.  So come on, kids!  Let’s re-write the best-known piece of fiction ever created!

The FTD Bible

As written by the 4Chan Disciple J. “Infamy, They’ve All Got it Infamy” Cleverley

Book 1: SEGA GENESIS

1. In the beginning, J created the blog and the lulz.

2. And the blog looked crappy and was void of humour.  And the stale-ness was inherent in the CSS coding.  And so, the blog of J moved over to WordPress.

3. And J. said, Let there be an awesome wicked banner graphic, and there was an awesome wicked banner graphic.

4. And J. saw the wicked awesome banner graphic, and that it was indeed both wicked and awesome: and J. decided to keep it.

5. And J. called the banner graphic Header, and the content Lulz.  And the content and the humour became the first post.

6. And J. said, Let there be more Lulz, so that eventual readers may laugh themselves off of their fucking chairs.  And let it divide the strong-bladdered from the weak-bladdered.

7.And J. made the Lulz, and divided the strong-bladdered from the weak-bladdered, and it was so.

8. And J. called the Lulz Teh Funniez, and the Header and the Lulz were the second post.

[Segment lost due to lack of creativity on my part]

26. And J. said, Holy crap, this shit is getting a little stale.  I need a cheap gimmick to make people keep on reading this blog!  And let him have dominion over my conscience when the Lulz dry up, and over the content, and over the discours found herein.

27. And J. created Rhy in his own image, thus fooling people into thinking he was schizophrenic.

[Segment lost due to lack of creativity on my part]

THE SECOND BOOK OF SEGA GENESIS

2. And on the seventh day, J. was out getting drunk with his friends so there were no Lulz.

3. And J. blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it, because that in it he had had too much to drink the preceding evening and was hungover.

[...]

21. And the Lord J. caused a deep sleep to fall upon Rhy, and he slept.  And He split Rhy into two Rhys.

22. And the second Rhy, which J. had created, gave He a fruity French accent and presented him to Rhy.

23. And Rhy said, What the fuck?  Who’s this fruity French motherfucker?  He shall be called Napoleon, because that’s a typical French name, amirite?

[The Christian flamers thus broke down my door and crucified me in the name of their lord Jebus, claiming that I was an infidel. Thus ends the Bible according to FTD]

Jesus was a Communist,

J

Things will be fine, you over-inflated swine.

So with Swine flu killing us all, there’s not really been much else on the news as of late.  Personally, I’m all for the imminent destruction of mankind.  It could be good fun, after all.  I mean at first everyone’ll be like “We’re all gonna die! Shit!” and the looting and mass pillaging will start.  Then they’ll get ahold of every illicit substance on the face of the earth and just mellow out while people die around them.

Shit, vivid imagination.

Anyways, this is kind of an improv post meant to satiate your apparently unquenchable thirst for teh funniez.  I’ll admit, I’ve been up and down like a kite in a rather strong tailwind as of late.  Things were good-ish, then seriously shitty, then good-ish again.  Relationships, school and the loneliness kicks in from time to time, yanno?  Anyways, on with teh funniez.

“He calls himself… THE SHADOW HARE!”

Well, isn’t that an original name?  Could there be some sort of radical rabbit-motif going on here?  Does he have all sorts of gadgets?  Does he-

Shadow Hare: Fighting Crime in a costume his mother made

Oh.  Nevermind.

Well, if he’s 21 years old, I’m Charlie fucking Sheen.  You listen to this kid talk and you have problems believing that he’s older than 18.  I have spots that have been around longer than he has.  I should really get those looked at.

“Well, since WHEN… has Cincinatti had one great hero?”, hell, since when has Cincinatti had anything of any remote interest?

Interested in becoming a hero yourself?  Have no sex-life outside of masturbating furiously over the High School Musical films?  Own a scary amount of comic book memorabilia AND a costume your mother made for you?  Join.

http://www.worldsuperheroregistry.com/world_superhero_registry_gallery.htm

Peace,

J