Profile for TheAmazingMeatMan:
I've only posted a few bits on this site so far, and they're all shit. Sorry about that.
And I do tend to rant sometimes, so it's best to just ignore me when I do that.
Please feel free to acknowledge me as a nutter, but for all you trolls out there, don't bother flaming me for my insane babble, unless you like wasting your own time, my time, and more of your time when you have to read my responses to your responses. There's the old joke that asks what the difference is between a rottweiler and a jewish mother (a rottweiler will eventually let go)...well, I put Maureen Lipman to shame. But I'd never have a child sexually mutilated. Trolls, yes, but not kids.
A while ago, I resolved to only post shitty image challenge entries, and not waste time on providing Q.O.T.W. answers that nobody wants to read, but that's the thing about being a nutter - sometimes you can't help yourself.
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- a member for 14 years, 2 months and 24 days
- has posted 67 messages on the main board
- has posted 0 messages on the talk board
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- has posted 21 stories and 34 replies on question of the week
- They liked 308 pictures, 2 links, 0 talk posts, and 69 qotw answers.
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I've only posted a few bits on this site so far, and they're all shit. Sorry about that.
And I do tend to rant sometimes, so it's best to just ignore me when I do that.
Please feel free to acknowledge me as a nutter, but for all you trolls out there, don't bother flaming me for my insane babble, unless you like wasting your own time, my time, and more of your time when you have to read my responses to your responses. There's the old joke that asks what the difference is between a rottweiler and a jewish mother (a rottweiler will eventually let go)...well, I put Maureen Lipman to shame. But I'd never have a child sexually mutilated. Trolls, yes, but not kids.
A while ago, I resolved to only post shitty image challenge entries, and not waste time on providing Q.O.T.W. answers that nobody wants to read, but that's the thing about being a nutter - sometimes you can't help yourself.
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Waste of money
The cinema
Post-post, pre-start-of-post EDIT:
Let's not turn this site into the comments section of YouTube, people. See my response to that cocksucker electric_goat for details. If you don't like something posted here, just move on.
If it's not bad enough that I've wasted my time posting this shit answer to the Q.O.T.W., and you've wasted your time reading it, you've then wasted more of your time replying to it.
Thank you, not just to the few people who didn't hate this, but to all of you that DID hate it, but chose to just move on to the next posting that was much better. Who says that apathy is a bad thing? And who cares?
***
[I feel another rambling rant coming on, people...sorry!]
I'm sure we've all done it - wasted money on going to the pictures for a film that looks great (or at least O.K.), only for it to be a big pile of steaming dog turd.
I've never really been in a position to waste much money, so in that sense I'm fortunate. I have exactly zero sympathy for people who've had shit-loads of money and just wasted it...if your business goes belly-up, or if you've been conned out of your life's savings by someone who pretended to love you and lied to you about being terminally ill, or if you've lost your house through circumstances beyond your control, then I have the utmost sympathy. But millionaires who lose their money, just because they can't keep track of it, make me sick. I could mention one in particular, but his money wastage is the LEAST of his sins, and shows you that Karma exists in some form, even if in some cases it's only a token gesture.
I could moan about all the money I've wasted on ex-girlfriends, but at the time it seemed like a good idea, I got enjoyment out of it (even if only in a limited capacity - like stopping them moaning about something for two minutes!), and it was part of being a good boyfriend - not a substitute for it. I'd rather get back the time and stress that was spent on my exes, thank you very much, not any money spent. The best money I ever spent was sending the love of my life a dozen long-stem red roses to her workplace for her birthday, and seeing how happy it made her (and, in regard to her, I'd just take the stress away, and have more time with her). I really do hate seeing women cry, but when it's out of happiness that you triggered, instead of sadness of any kind...well, it's the best feeling I've ever had. 12 years ago, that was, and it still brings a smile to my face.
So, although most people would consider me bitter over each of my exes for one reason or another (or plenty), I would never complain about the money I spent on them.
But wasting money at the pictures? Fucking hell, it pisses me off. And, again, it's not really the money wasted that gets to me - even if I'm skint at the time - it's the time wasted. And feeling duped by a trailer or a review, or even a recommendation.
Films aren't my main thing - music is. I can talk for hours and hours and motherfucking HOURS about the music that I love, but films are just there for entertainment, in my view. If I want mental stimulation, I'll read a book - there's no way I could sit through a 3-hour period melodrama about some obscure Russian poet who only Oxbridge students, or those wankers on those review shows, have ever heard of. But give me a mental, ridiculously implausible action film with loads of great stunts and insane violent fight-scenes, and I'm a happy man. You know, the kind of films where you just check your brains in at the door (The A-Team is a perfect example).
So when I spend good money, and a couple of hours, watching a film at the cinema, I expect it to be entertaining, even if it's a load of nonsense. But I can watch something less action-packed if I'm interested by the subject matter.
Which brings me onto the biggest waste of money I've ever spent at the pictures. Apollo 13. Now I hear some of you crying out that it won Oscars, so it must be good. Wrong. I've always been interested in space, planets, astronomy, and everything of that nature, so I was eager to see the film when my female friend suggested going to see it (I didn't think anyone would want to go with me). I knew it was based on a true story, and I knew most of the elements of said story, so I thought I knew how it would turn out.
Well, when I'd heard people say that they saw a film so bad that they actually walked out before it ended, I never got it. I could never see myself doing it. Until Apollo 13, that is. The only reason I didn't walk out of that piece of shit, is that I'd gone there with a friend. Absolutely, positively and undoubtedly the single worst film I've ever seen (and the second-worst was when myself and another friend rented out Snake Eyes a few years later, so I think Gary Sinise is somehow cursed).
And for anyone still awake after reading this so far, I might as well tell you about when I saw the He-Man film back in the '80s. Yes, I know it was actually called Masters Of The Universe (as was the excellent cartoon that it was supposedly based on), and my sister and her husband (still her fiancée at that point) paid for me to get in, but they wasted their money.
You see, I was a massive He-Man fan, and a 7-year-old boy when the film was released. My oldest sister had an idea that, for all the world, must have seemed like a good one at the time - she'd take me to see the film of my favourite cartoon. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, I sat there and commented on the first 10 or so things that the film had got wrong, but then I just gave up. There were far too many things to count. But, boy, all I did after we got outside was gripe and bitch and moan about what they'd got wrong, what they'd changed (which was pretty much all of it), and how I could have done so much better. I've always had a pretty good vocabulary, even when I was 7yrs old, but I'm sure I developed half of my current vocabulary in the process of slagging that film off.
Seriously, I just didn't shut up (a trait you're probably finding equally annoying right now, so apologies). Not when we got in the car. Not when we went to McDonald's afterwards. Not when we got back in the car to go to my sister's boyfriend's house (I think we all went back to watch a video, possibly in a vain attempt to stop me complaining). Not when we got there. And not even when my sister angrily rolled her eyes, and her boyfriend had finally had enough of my incessant fucking whining, and said "Right, you're going home" before they bundled me into his car and he put the pedal to the metal.
I didn't even shut up on the journey back home. (And I wondered why that sister never took me to the pictures again!) Or to my mum when I got there. I didn't shut up about how bad it was for at least a week, I swear. Looking back on it now, I think it's an O.K. film in its own right, but as an adaptation of the beautifully-made cartoon that I held so very dear to my heart, it sucked major donkey cock.
I never got Star Wars, but I know most B3tans are massive fans (going by the image challenge entries, anyway). So I'm sure most of you are aware of the legendary YouTube video where an avid Star Wars fan rips The Phantom Menace to many tiny pieces, and the video is actually much longer than the film itself. Well, I made this guy look like a rank amateur.
When my second-oldest sister (I have 3) took me to see Batman Returns five years later, and I thought it was a major disappointment, I just kept my mouth shut and thanked her for taking me to see it. She later told my mum how ungrateful I'd seemed (possibly in confidence, so as to not make me feel bad, but my mum has never had any such reservations), and my mum then told me. Man, I felt like such a cunt. From that moment to this very day, I always make sure that I thank somebody profusely when they do something for me, letting them know how grateful I am - I must piss people off with that, surely - because for some people, saying thank you and meaning it just isn't enough. I'm not taking that chance again!
So, yeah, I didn't shut up. Not in the aftermath of seeing that film, and certainly not in the answering of this Q.O.T.W.
I think I should shut up now.
(Sun 3rd Oct 2010, 5:54, More)
The cinema
Post-post, pre-start-of-post EDIT:
Let's not turn this site into the comments section of YouTube, people. See my response to that cocksucker electric_goat for details. If you don't like something posted here, just move on.
If it's not bad enough that I've wasted my time posting this shit answer to the Q.O.T.W., and you've wasted your time reading it, you've then wasted more of your time replying to it.
Thank you, not just to the few people who didn't hate this, but to all of you that DID hate it, but chose to just move on to the next posting that was much better. Who says that apathy is a bad thing? And who cares?
***
[I feel another rambling rant coming on, people...sorry!]
I'm sure we've all done it - wasted money on going to the pictures for a film that looks great (or at least O.K.), only for it to be a big pile of steaming dog turd.
I've never really been in a position to waste much money, so in that sense I'm fortunate. I have exactly zero sympathy for people who've had shit-loads of money and just wasted it...if your business goes belly-up, or if you've been conned out of your life's savings by someone who pretended to love you and lied to you about being terminally ill, or if you've lost your house through circumstances beyond your control, then I have the utmost sympathy. But millionaires who lose their money, just because they can't keep track of it, make me sick. I could mention one in particular, but his money wastage is the LEAST of his sins, and shows you that Karma exists in some form, even if in some cases it's only a token gesture.
I could moan about all the money I've wasted on ex-girlfriends, but at the time it seemed like a good idea, I got enjoyment out of it (even if only in a limited capacity - like stopping them moaning about something for two minutes!), and it was part of being a good boyfriend - not a substitute for it. I'd rather get back the time and stress that was spent on my exes, thank you very much, not any money spent. The best money I ever spent was sending the love of my life a dozen long-stem red roses to her workplace for her birthday, and seeing how happy it made her (and, in regard to her, I'd just take the stress away, and have more time with her). I really do hate seeing women cry, but when it's out of happiness that you triggered, instead of sadness of any kind...well, it's the best feeling I've ever had. 12 years ago, that was, and it still brings a smile to my face.
So, although most people would consider me bitter over each of my exes for one reason or another (or plenty), I would never complain about the money I spent on them.
But wasting money at the pictures? Fucking hell, it pisses me off. And, again, it's not really the money wasted that gets to me - even if I'm skint at the time - it's the time wasted. And feeling duped by a trailer or a review, or even a recommendation.
Films aren't my main thing - music is. I can talk for hours and hours and motherfucking HOURS about the music that I love, but films are just there for entertainment, in my view. If I want mental stimulation, I'll read a book - there's no way I could sit through a 3-hour period melodrama about some obscure Russian poet who only Oxbridge students, or those wankers on those review shows, have ever heard of. But give me a mental, ridiculously implausible action film with loads of great stunts and insane violent fight-scenes, and I'm a happy man. You know, the kind of films where you just check your brains in at the door (The A-Team is a perfect example).
So when I spend good money, and a couple of hours, watching a film at the cinema, I expect it to be entertaining, even if it's a load of nonsense. But I can watch something less action-packed if I'm interested by the subject matter.
Which brings me onto the biggest waste of money I've ever spent at the pictures. Apollo 13. Now I hear some of you crying out that it won Oscars, so it must be good. Wrong. I've always been interested in space, planets, astronomy, and everything of that nature, so I was eager to see the film when my female friend suggested going to see it (I didn't think anyone would want to go with me). I knew it was based on a true story, and I knew most of the elements of said story, so I thought I knew how it would turn out.
Well, when I'd heard people say that they saw a film so bad that they actually walked out before it ended, I never got it. I could never see myself doing it. Until Apollo 13, that is. The only reason I didn't walk out of that piece of shit, is that I'd gone there with a friend. Absolutely, positively and undoubtedly the single worst film I've ever seen (and the second-worst was when myself and another friend rented out Snake Eyes a few years later, so I think Gary Sinise is somehow cursed).
And for anyone still awake after reading this so far, I might as well tell you about when I saw the He-Man film back in the '80s. Yes, I know it was actually called Masters Of The Universe (as was the excellent cartoon that it was supposedly based on), and my sister and her husband (still her fiancée at that point) paid for me to get in, but they wasted their money.
You see, I was a massive He-Man fan, and a 7-year-old boy when the film was released. My oldest sister had an idea that, for all the world, must have seemed like a good one at the time - she'd take me to see the film of my favourite cartoon. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, I sat there and commented on the first 10 or so things that the film had got wrong, but then I just gave up. There were far too many things to count. But, boy, all I did after we got outside was gripe and bitch and moan about what they'd got wrong, what they'd changed (which was pretty much all of it), and how I could have done so much better. I've always had a pretty good vocabulary, even when I was 7yrs old, but I'm sure I developed half of my current vocabulary in the process of slagging that film off.
Seriously, I just didn't shut up (a trait you're probably finding equally annoying right now, so apologies). Not when we got in the car. Not when we went to McDonald's afterwards. Not when we got back in the car to go to my sister's boyfriend's house (I think we all went back to watch a video, possibly in a vain attempt to stop me complaining). Not when we got there. And not even when my sister angrily rolled her eyes, and her boyfriend had finally had enough of my incessant fucking whining, and said "Right, you're going home" before they bundled me into his car and he put the pedal to the metal.
I didn't even shut up on the journey back home. (And I wondered why that sister never took me to the pictures again!) Or to my mum when I got there. I didn't shut up about how bad it was for at least a week, I swear. Looking back on it now, I think it's an O.K. film in its own right, but as an adaptation of the beautifully-made cartoon that I held so very dear to my heart, it sucked major donkey cock.
I never got Star Wars, but I know most B3tans are massive fans (going by the image challenge entries, anyway). So I'm sure most of you are aware of the legendary YouTube video where an avid Star Wars fan rips The Phantom Menace to many tiny pieces, and the video is actually much longer than the film itself. Well, I made this guy look like a rank amateur.
When my second-oldest sister (I have 3) took me to see Batman Returns five years later, and I thought it was a major disappointment, I just kept my mouth shut and thanked her for taking me to see it. She later told my mum how ungrateful I'd seemed (possibly in confidence, so as to not make me feel bad, but my mum has never had any such reservations), and my mum then told me. Man, I felt like such a cunt. From that moment to this very day, I always make sure that I thank somebody profusely when they do something for me, letting them know how grateful I am - I must piss people off with that, surely - because for some people, saying thank you and meaning it just isn't enough. I'm not taking that chance again!
So, yeah, I didn't shut up. Not in the aftermath of seeing that film, and certainly not in the answering of this Q.O.T.W.
I think I should shut up now.
(Sun 3rd Oct 2010, 5:54, More)
» Wanking Disasters Part II
The other day, I was having a wank over some pictures of the Queen of the M.I.L.F.s, Carol Vorderman, and I came so hard that I actually ejaculated myself inside-out.
I'm now typing this with one of my optic nerves, and part of my spleen.
Does that count?
(Tue 22nd Feb 2011, 11:37, More)
The other day, I was having a wank over some pictures of the Queen of the M.I.L.F.s, Carol Vorderman, and I came so hard that I actually ejaculated myself inside-out.
I'm now typing this with one of my optic nerves, and part of my spleen.
Does that count?
(Tue 22nd Feb 2011, 11:37, More)
» Amazing displays of ignorance
First Post, Please Be Gentle...
Hi, everybody
This is my first posting here, and first of all I just want to say that some of the entries for the image challenges on this website are absolute genius, so it is a pleasure to actually be a member of this site.
I have toyed with the idea of answering the Question Of The Week before, but it never really worked out - I'm currently very ill, and I'm not always able to post things in time, but this one is just begging to be answered. Do you ever get the feeling that you're the person who's experienced the most instances of ignorance and stupidity ever? I feel like that a lot.
Please feel free to skip this post if it starts to bore you to tears; I find that, unlike the image challenges, these threads can quickly become very boring, and - I don't know about you - I normally give up reading after the 3rd boring entry (which is a shame, as some of the Q.O.T.W. responses are absolute gems). So apologies if this becomes one of them, but I do hope not. (And I know that some people here share incredibly personal experiences, but this thread so far seems to be very light-hearted. So more sincere apologies if I bring the tone down.)
Firstly, I have to mention one of my exes, who was so outrageously thick, she must've bordered on actual retardation. Seriously - I'm not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that. If you're wondering why I went out with her in the first place (and I've wondered that many, MANY times myself over the years!), she was O.K. if you were talking to her about something mundane and unimportant, which was 95% of our early conversation. (And it wasn't just the early easy conversation, but she used to suck my cock. Sometimes ignorance is worth it if your girlfriend eats dick as much as she used to...but only just.) But talk to her about anything with any weight or significance, and she knew absolutely fuck all about it, and cared even less.
She never had anything to add to any conversation, and she hit me with the whole 'You can finish my sentences for me, so we must be meant to be together' routine more times than I can remember. No, the fucking reason I can finish your fucking sentences is that you always say the same fucking shit! I never said that to her, though. Not out loud, anyway. Inside - believe me - I was absolutely fucking screaming it.
There was a time that I needed to get past her, and I said "Excusez-moi." She just stood there and ignored me, so I thought she was just being fucking awkward with me again - she was most of the time. So I had to gently squeeze past her. You know what her reaction was? "YOU COULD HAVE SAID 'EXCUSE ME'!" Yeah, you DID read that right. Look, I did French at G.C.S.E. level - and all I can remember now is how to tell you that I'm 16 years old, and give you directions to the station, so I couldn't have learnt it properly - but surely everyone knows what that means? And even if you don't, the fact it sounds almost identical to 'Excuse me' should be some sort of fucking clue??? I mean, for fuck's sake, man. You and me are fucking done professionally.
She used to blame her stupidity on her dyslexia, which is not only hugely ignorant in itself, but also immensely insulting to all the people who struggle with dyslexia every day of their lives. Let me make this abundantly clear - although some people, like this bitch, suffer from both, I know that dyslexia and stupidity are two very separate, very different things. Richard Branson is dyslexic, and he is obviously a very intelligent man. Not being able to make out certain words (or spelling being impossible for you), or inadvertently mixing up numbers, or sometimes getting your words confused, that's dyslexia. Making Terry Fuckwit look like Stephen Hawking is not.
I have real sympathy for people who are labelled thick because they're dyslexic, I really do. But I cannot fucking STAND stupid people who hide behind it, or even pretend that they have it when they don't.
Other people I can't stand are stupid people who don't know that they're stupid (and some even think that they're actually very clever) which, strangely, has to be around 99% of stupid people, in by my experience - finding a stupid person who actually knows they're stupid is a very rare thing indeed. You can't help the level of your intelligence or understanding, but denying it is absolutely unforgivable in my view. And that brings me to the most outrageous display of wanton ignorance I have ever encountered in my life.
Now, I won't give away any identifying details of this next prick, but if they ever read this, they'll certainly fucking know who wrote it, even if you don't know them, so I would expect major shit from it. But this example is just too ridiculous to comprehend (at least for my feeble brain), and deserves to be flagged up.
This is a know-it-all who is amazingly ignorant. Someone who claims to have gone to grammar school, and got 11 G.C.S.E.s at either A or B grade, but who mixes upper- and lower- case letters in the same word (a sure sign of low intelligence, from what I've heard - the most famous example of this is a certain Dubya), who uses Americanisms like 'mom', who doesn't even know what a hyphen is, and - this is the most grating thing - says 'supposably' instead of 'supposedly'. Seriously, it's like the seed has been planted in my head for me to start doing that at some point, and if I ever do, I want you, my new B3tan friends, to take a loaded shotgun, put it against my temple, and pull the fucking trigger.
I passed my 11+ (a lot of thick people do, and a lot of intelligent people fail it), and went to a grammar school myself. No-one in my family had managed that apart from two of my uncles and one of my aunts (plus my mum), and I'm child no. 4 out of 5, so that’s some wait, as well as an added pressure for an 11-year-old, I can tell you. It was the holy grail, apparently, and I had it drummed into me for a long time how much better grammar schools were than comprehensives - even my comprehensive-educated sisters told me so. So I was proud to get into a grammar school, but...it didn't work for me. Honestly, how people ever learn ANYTHING in a grammar school is beyond me. I can't speak for other grammar schools, obviously, but the way mine worked was that, if you didn't understand something the very first time of being told, you were thick. No second explanations, no different methods used to clarify what was being taught, no going over what you'd just 'learnt' - absolutely fucking nothing. But no-one else needed - or at least asked for - more guidance, so I must've been thick, right? Wrong. I'm far from fucking stupid. I proved that by moving to the comprehensive over the road half-way through the second year, and going on to gain 6 G.C.S.E.s at grade C, despite going through an incredibly difficult time at home in the same period.
My point, made in such a rambling and long-winded way, is that if I struggled at a grammar school, this thick cunt wouldn't have lasted a fucking week. But the following is proof of his stupidity and ignorance, but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me, because I still don't really believe it myself. Some people just come out with shit that leaves you speechless with its stupidity, don't they?
We were discussing someone we only knew in passing, a very unsavoury character, and this guy (let's call him Steve) suddenly suggested the guy we were talking about (shall we call him Andy?) might beat up women. A bit of a leap - Andy seemed like a right arsehole, but I didn't think he would have ever stooped that low. I didn't know either way, of course, but this conclusion-jumping was based on no evidence - circumstantial or otherwise - whatsoever. Then Steve suggested that Andy might even have raped a woman, and that's where it got REALLY weird.
Steve said that he would far rather that Andy had 'just' forced himself onto some poor girl, than beaten her up. Now, being beaten up is definitely no laughing matter. I have such utter hatred and disgust for the 'men' - and you'll notice that I'm using the term as loosely as possible - that do it, I can't even put it into words. But beating someone up, no matter how badly (even if the victim IS a woman), is nowhere near as bad as rape. I mean, honestly and truthfully, I thought that Steve was playing some kind of sick, twisted joke on me by saying that. But he actually meant it. He - he ACTUALLY. FUCKING. MEANT. IT.
I was unfortunately witness to my scumbag dad hitting my (also a scumbag, but in this context that is neither here nor there) mother, when I was about 4 or 5 years old. Fortunately, I was only ever witness to it once. But it fucked me up, let me tell you. If I'd been witness to him raping her, I'd be in some sort of fucking institution right now. My dad is many things, and he truly is a cunt - he really, really is - but even he's not a rapist. I know that some 'men' do both, but he’d be too scared of being caught, even if he wanted to do something as fucked-up as that.
So that, ladies and gentlemen, is the most prominent example of ignorance and stupidity that I have ever encountered. Someone thinking that a person being beaten up is worse than if they were raped. If anyone reading this feels inclined to agree with Steve, then please do us all a fucking favour by ending your worthless fucking existence NOW.
Rant over.
[EDIT: Apologies for length. And bile.]
(Tue 23rd Mar 2010, 23:38, More)
First Post, Please Be Gentle...
Hi, everybody
This is my first posting here, and first of all I just want to say that some of the entries for the image challenges on this website are absolute genius, so it is a pleasure to actually be a member of this site.
I have toyed with the idea of answering the Question Of The Week before, but it never really worked out - I'm currently very ill, and I'm not always able to post things in time, but this one is just begging to be answered. Do you ever get the feeling that you're the person who's experienced the most instances of ignorance and stupidity ever? I feel like that a lot.
Please feel free to skip this post if it starts to bore you to tears; I find that, unlike the image challenges, these threads can quickly become very boring, and - I don't know about you - I normally give up reading after the 3rd boring entry (which is a shame, as some of the Q.O.T.W. responses are absolute gems). So apologies if this becomes one of them, but I do hope not. (And I know that some people here share incredibly personal experiences, but this thread so far seems to be very light-hearted. So more sincere apologies if I bring the tone down.)
Firstly, I have to mention one of my exes, who was so outrageously thick, she must've bordered on actual retardation. Seriously - I'm not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that. If you're wondering why I went out with her in the first place (and I've wondered that many, MANY times myself over the years!), she was O.K. if you were talking to her about something mundane and unimportant, which was 95% of our early conversation. (And it wasn't just the early easy conversation, but she used to suck my cock. Sometimes ignorance is worth it if your girlfriend eats dick as much as she used to...but only just.) But talk to her about anything with any weight or significance, and she knew absolutely fuck all about it, and cared even less.
She never had anything to add to any conversation, and she hit me with the whole 'You can finish my sentences for me, so we must be meant to be together' routine more times than I can remember. No, the fucking reason I can finish your fucking sentences is that you always say the same fucking shit! I never said that to her, though. Not out loud, anyway. Inside - believe me - I was absolutely fucking screaming it.
There was a time that I needed to get past her, and I said "Excusez-moi." She just stood there and ignored me, so I thought she was just being fucking awkward with me again - she was most of the time. So I had to gently squeeze past her. You know what her reaction was? "YOU COULD HAVE SAID 'EXCUSE ME'!" Yeah, you DID read that right. Look, I did French at G.C.S.E. level - and all I can remember now is how to tell you that I'm 16 years old, and give you directions to the station, so I couldn't have learnt it properly - but surely everyone knows what that means? And even if you don't, the fact it sounds almost identical to 'Excuse me' should be some sort of fucking clue??? I mean, for fuck's sake, man. You and me are fucking done professionally.
She used to blame her stupidity on her dyslexia, which is not only hugely ignorant in itself, but also immensely insulting to all the people who struggle with dyslexia every day of their lives. Let me make this abundantly clear - although some people, like this bitch, suffer from both, I know that dyslexia and stupidity are two very separate, very different things. Richard Branson is dyslexic, and he is obviously a very intelligent man. Not being able to make out certain words (or spelling being impossible for you), or inadvertently mixing up numbers, or sometimes getting your words confused, that's dyslexia. Making Terry Fuckwit look like Stephen Hawking is not.
I have real sympathy for people who are labelled thick because they're dyslexic, I really do. But I cannot fucking STAND stupid people who hide behind it, or even pretend that they have it when they don't.
Other people I can't stand are stupid people who don't know that they're stupid (and some even think that they're actually very clever) which, strangely, has to be around 99% of stupid people, in by my experience - finding a stupid person who actually knows they're stupid is a very rare thing indeed. You can't help the level of your intelligence or understanding, but denying it is absolutely unforgivable in my view. And that brings me to the most outrageous display of wanton ignorance I have ever encountered in my life.
Now, I won't give away any identifying details of this next prick, but if they ever read this, they'll certainly fucking know who wrote it, even if you don't know them, so I would expect major shit from it. But this example is just too ridiculous to comprehend (at least for my feeble brain), and deserves to be flagged up.
This is a know-it-all who is amazingly ignorant. Someone who claims to have gone to grammar school, and got 11 G.C.S.E.s at either A or B grade, but who mixes upper- and lower- case letters in the same word (a sure sign of low intelligence, from what I've heard - the most famous example of this is a certain Dubya), who uses Americanisms like 'mom', who doesn't even know what a hyphen is, and - this is the most grating thing - says 'supposably' instead of 'supposedly'. Seriously, it's like the seed has been planted in my head for me to start doing that at some point, and if I ever do, I want you, my new B3tan friends, to take a loaded shotgun, put it against my temple, and pull the fucking trigger.
I passed my 11+ (a lot of thick people do, and a lot of intelligent people fail it), and went to a grammar school myself. No-one in my family had managed that apart from two of my uncles and one of my aunts (plus my mum), and I'm child no. 4 out of 5, so that’s some wait, as well as an added pressure for an 11-year-old, I can tell you. It was the holy grail, apparently, and I had it drummed into me for a long time how much better grammar schools were than comprehensives - even my comprehensive-educated sisters told me so. So I was proud to get into a grammar school, but...it didn't work for me. Honestly, how people ever learn ANYTHING in a grammar school is beyond me. I can't speak for other grammar schools, obviously, but the way mine worked was that, if you didn't understand something the very first time of being told, you were thick. No second explanations, no different methods used to clarify what was being taught, no going over what you'd just 'learnt' - absolutely fucking nothing. But no-one else needed - or at least asked for - more guidance, so I must've been thick, right? Wrong. I'm far from fucking stupid. I proved that by moving to the comprehensive over the road half-way through the second year, and going on to gain 6 G.C.S.E.s at grade C, despite going through an incredibly difficult time at home in the same period.
My point, made in such a rambling and long-winded way, is that if I struggled at a grammar school, this thick cunt wouldn't have lasted a fucking week. But the following is proof of his stupidity and ignorance, but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me, because I still don't really believe it myself. Some people just come out with shit that leaves you speechless with its stupidity, don't they?
We were discussing someone we only knew in passing, a very unsavoury character, and this guy (let's call him Steve) suddenly suggested the guy we were talking about (shall we call him Andy?) might beat up women. A bit of a leap - Andy seemed like a right arsehole, but I didn't think he would have ever stooped that low. I didn't know either way, of course, but this conclusion-jumping was based on no evidence - circumstantial or otherwise - whatsoever. Then Steve suggested that Andy might even have raped a woman, and that's where it got REALLY weird.
Steve said that he would far rather that Andy had 'just' forced himself onto some poor girl, than beaten her up. Now, being beaten up is definitely no laughing matter. I have such utter hatred and disgust for the 'men' - and you'll notice that I'm using the term as loosely as possible - that do it, I can't even put it into words. But beating someone up, no matter how badly (even if the victim IS a woman), is nowhere near as bad as rape. I mean, honestly and truthfully, I thought that Steve was playing some kind of sick, twisted joke on me by saying that. But he actually meant it. He - he ACTUALLY. FUCKING. MEANT. IT.
I was unfortunately witness to my scumbag dad hitting my (also a scumbag, but in this context that is neither here nor there) mother, when I was about 4 or 5 years old. Fortunately, I was only ever witness to it once. But it fucked me up, let me tell you. If I'd been witness to him raping her, I'd be in some sort of fucking institution right now. My dad is many things, and he truly is a cunt - he really, really is - but even he's not a rapist. I know that some 'men' do both, but he’d be too scared of being caught, even if he wanted to do something as fucked-up as that.
So that, ladies and gentlemen, is the most prominent example of ignorance and stupidity that I have ever encountered. Someone thinking that a person being beaten up is worse than if they were raped. If anyone reading this feels inclined to agree with Steve, then please do us all a fucking favour by ending your worthless fucking existence NOW.
Rant over.
[EDIT: Apologies for length. And bile.]
(Tue 23rd Mar 2010, 23:38, More)
» The Apocalypse
Apologies if someone has already posted something similar...
I used to work with this guy called Darryl, and we always had a right laugh in the office - everything from telling each other obscene jokes to discussing how well or badly our fantasty football teams were doing (how well for him, how Portsmouth for me).
One day during the fuel crisis back in 2000, he said to me about his girlfriend: "I asked Zoe to dress up as a nurse last night." I started mentally preparing myself to congratulate him on whatever kinkyness he was about to describe to me, though I think I would've stopped just short of a high five. "She winked at me and jokingly asked me why, and I told her because I needed her to get me some petrol."
I instantly realised that he'd heard it on the radio or something that morning, but that didn't stop me pissing myself laughing and fighting the urge to high five him anyway.
It won't surprise you to learn that I can be quite easily pleased at times.
(Sat 16th Jun 2012, 12:11, More)
Apologies if someone has already posted something similar...
I used to work with this guy called Darryl, and we always had a right laugh in the office - everything from telling each other obscene jokes to discussing how well or badly our fantasty football teams were doing (how well for him, how Portsmouth for me).
One day during the fuel crisis back in 2000, he said to me about his girlfriend: "I asked Zoe to dress up as a nurse last night." I started mentally preparing myself to congratulate him on whatever kinkyness he was about to describe to me, though I think I would've stopped just short of a high five. "She winked at me and jokingly asked me why, and I told her because I needed her to get me some petrol."
I instantly realised that he'd heard it on the radio or something that morning, but that didn't stop me pissing myself laughing and fighting the urge to high five him anyway.
It won't surprise you to learn that I can be quite easily pleased at times.
(Sat 16th Jun 2012, 12:11, More)
» Caught!
Not caught, exactly...
Well, I s'pose I'd better get a fucking move on and answer this bastard question before it closes. (Thankfully, I haven't got Tourette's; I'm just unable to sleep at the moment, so apologies for the foul language bound to follow.)
When I was fifteen, I was friends with a charming young lady who I nicknamed The Iron Dyke. (I should explain at this point that this was, believe it or not, a term of endearment - she was very much into other ladies, and used to love being called a dyke. Seriously, I'm not fucking joking about this. She was actually very feminine in everything except her dress-sense and her lust for violence - she once kicked me in the face as a joke...and, I promise, it was nothing to do with me calling her The Iron Dyke. In fact, the name came from the kick, not the other way round.)
Anyway, the main story is actually very non-eventful, but I need to put this into some context, otherwise the story will seem to contradict what I've just said. Although she considered herself 100% lesbian, she did sleep with men, but only to use them. Fair enough, though, as the men she slept with always knew the score - she never lied to or cheated on anybody. I admired her for her honesty, if nothing else. That's probably the biggest single thing we had in common, as well as our lust for the ladies.
I was, and I imagine still remain, the only man to have ever turned her down for some jiggy time. The main reason was that she was fifteen, too - she was a fair few months younger than I was, but the point was we were both underage. The other reason was that I just couldn't get enough of having her beg me for sex (which would fucking surprise you, to say the least, if you knew what I actually looked like - even then). She said herself that she'd never begged anyone else for sex before.
Which brings me to the incident in question. Her family home was a very nice large house, with 3 stories. I was with her in her bedroom on the second floor, and the conversation quickly turned to us having sexytime (her whole family were downstairs, but this didn't bother her in the slightest - never did). She was telling me about a proper Indiana Jones-style whip she had under her bed, and I ended up cracking it very loudly (the whip, that is). Completely out of character, she panicked that her family would have heard it, but we were left to continue talking for absolutely ages.
We were sitting on the floor near her bedroom door (I think she'd wanted to show me something or other as a ruse to get me nearer to her bed), and she got round to begging me for sex (again, I'm still in stunned disbelief about this even to this day), and she was saying how easy it would be, just for her to unzip me, pull me out, put a Priority (my then-nickname for johnnies) on, and just sit on my cock. I'm not going to lie to you and say I wasn't tempted, but there was absolutely NO WAY I'd ever sleep with an underage girl - even if I was the same age!
I was about to tell her this for the umpteenth time, when I looked down and noticed that she had, very skilfully, managed to undo my zip, my belt, and the top button on my jeans - all without me noticing. (And believe me, I'm the sort of guy to notice when that sort of stuff happens.) I mean, this bitch was *good*.
Just as I stood up and started doing myself up, her dad did that thing that all annoying parents do - you know, when they knock on your door but come in precisely a nanosecond after said knock, rendering the knock they've just made absolutely useless. I managed to finish my belt before he could put his head round the door, doing so while turning my back, and he saw enough to be able to tell that I was doing my fly up with my back to him. Bless him, though - he didn't say a single, solitary word about it. He was probably used to it; in fact, that's probably why he left it so long before coming up to her room - every other man she knew would have fucked her and fucked off by then. He probably thought she'd done a black widow and eaten me! Hence the loud snap he'd heard.
I know this may sound like incredibly bad parenting on his and his wife's part, but this young woman was a rebel in the extreme to say the least, and I think they thought that if she was shagging someone that she knew, and that they knew, and it was under their roof, then at least she wasn't in danger by being out of their sight, where absolutely anything could happen to her. There really was no controlling this woman, and I doubt very much she's calmed down since. The poor bitch; I was the nearest thing she ever had to a boyfriend, I'm absolutely sure of it.
I really miss being friends with her, as we just clicked. We got each other. But not having me - and I'm not exactly Brad Pitt, so it's not like I was inundated with offers at the time - drove her to distraction, and in the end it got in the way of our friendship. That and other things.
If you're reading this, Iron Dyke, I miss you. More than you'll ever know. But we both know we're better off not being friends any more.
Especially if your dad was to find us fucking each other.
(Thu 10th Jun 2010, 5:51, More)
Not caught, exactly...
Well, I s'pose I'd better get a fucking move on and answer this bastard question before it closes. (Thankfully, I haven't got Tourette's; I'm just unable to sleep at the moment, so apologies for the foul language bound to follow.)
When I was fifteen, I was friends with a charming young lady who I nicknamed The Iron Dyke. (I should explain at this point that this was, believe it or not, a term of endearment - she was very much into other ladies, and used to love being called a dyke. Seriously, I'm not fucking joking about this. She was actually very feminine in everything except her dress-sense and her lust for violence - she once kicked me in the face as a joke...and, I promise, it was nothing to do with me calling her The Iron Dyke. In fact, the name came from the kick, not the other way round.)
Anyway, the main story is actually very non-eventful, but I need to put this into some context, otherwise the story will seem to contradict what I've just said. Although she considered herself 100% lesbian, she did sleep with men, but only to use them. Fair enough, though, as the men she slept with always knew the score - she never lied to or cheated on anybody. I admired her for her honesty, if nothing else. That's probably the biggest single thing we had in common, as well as our lust for the ladies.
I was, and I imagine still remain, the only man to have ever turned her down for some jiggy time. The main reason was that she was fifteen, too - she was a fair few months younger than I was, but the point was we were both underage. The other reason was that I just couldn't get enough of having her beg me for sex (which would fucking surprise you, to say the least, if you knew what I actually looked like - even then). She said herself that she'd never begged anyone else for sex before.
Which brings me to the incident in question. Her family home was a very nice large house, with 3 stories. I was with her in her bedroom on the second floor, and the conversation quickly turned to us having sexytime (her whole family were downstairs, but this didn't bother her in the slightest - never did). She was telling me about a proper Indiana Jones-style whip she had under her bed, and I ended up cracking it very loudly (the whip, that is). Completely out of character, she panicked that her family would have heard it, but we were left to continue talking for absolutely ages.
We were sitting on the floor near her bedroom door (I think she'd wanted to show me something or other as a ruse to get me nearer to her bed), and she got round to begging me for sex (again, I'm still in stunned disbelief about this even to this day), and she was saying how easy it would be, just for her to unzip me, pull me out, put a Priority (my then-nickname for johnnies) on, and just sit on my cock. I'm not going to lie to you and say I wasn't tempted, but there was absolutely NO WAY I'd ever sleep with an underage girl - even if I was the same age!
I was about to tell her this for the umpteenth time, when I looked down and noticed that she had, very skilfully, managed to undo my zip, my belt, and the top button on my jeans - all without me noticing. (And believe me, I'm the sort of guy to notice when that sort of stuff happens.) I mean, this bitch was *good*.
Just as I stood up and started doing myself up, her dad did that thing that all annoying parents do - you know, when they knock on your door but come in precisely a nanosecond after said knock, rendering the knock they've just made absolutely useless. I managed to finish my belt before he could put his head round the door, doing so while turning my back, and he saw enough to be able to tell that I was doing my fly up with my back to him. Bless him, though - he didn't say a single, solitary word about it. He was probably used to it; in fact, that's probably why he left it so long before coming up to her room - every other man she knew would have fucked her and fucked off by then. He probably thought she'd done a black widow and eaten me! Hence the loud snap he'd heard.
I know this may sound like incredibly bad parenting on his and his wife's part, but this young woman was a rebel in the extreme to say the least, and I think they thought that if she was shagging someone that she knew, and that they knew, and it was under their roof, then at least she wasn't in danger by being out of their sight, where absolutely anything could happen to her. There really was no controlling this woman, and I doubt very much she's calmed down since. The poor bitch; I was the nearest thing she ever had to a boyfriend, I'm absolutely sure of it.
I really miss being friends with her, as we just clicked. We got each other. But not having me - and I'm not exactly Brad Pitt, so it's not like I was inundated with offers at the time - drove her to distraction, and in the end it got in the way of our friendship. That and other things.
If you're reading this, Iron Dyke, I miss you. More than you'll ever know. But we both know we're better off not being friends any more.
Especially if your dad was to find us fucking each other.
(Thu 10th Jun 2010, 5:51, More)