If society didn't employ things like "laws" and "prison sentences," I wouldn't have to resist the urge to run out into the street and push over those dirty shits who zoom around on their certifiably moronic tall bikes. I'd set it up like a video game: 500 points for a straight push, 1,000 for a lead pipe thrown between the spokes, 1,500 for a well-placed spike strip, and a 1-UP for shooting the rider in the face with a potato gun.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly distraught, I fantasize about quitting my job and organizing a group of individuals who will assist me in destroying all social-networking entities. And I'm not talking about 4chan-like pranks or some other nerd hacking shit. I want to physically and simultaneously storm the offices and data centers of Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, and whatever other online garbage people like to waste their lives on and bolt the doors shut before igniting chemical fires around their buildings' perimeters. It will be tough, but through rigorous coordination and preparation my comrades will be certain to torch every last backup and redundancy so all user data will be lost forever.
No offence People With Learning Difficulties, but I think it's fair to say there are times when everyday things seem almost impossible.
I'd just like to point out that one of those times is ordering a sandwich when there's five different types of bread and over 20 individual salad options.
Now I'm not saying 'don't let people with learning difficulties go into Subway.' All I am saying is, "Marks and Spencer sandwiches are quite nice. And they're pre-packaged, which is handy…"
Let's hope the Island sinks in the next four weeks. Philadelphia's most loved sons and daughter, Clockcleaner, have annouced their Clockcleaner Are American Skinheads Australian Tour this week and the people of Oz are already concerned. The name of their tour has elicited strange reactions from both fan and foe which seems to be an on-going problem throughout the bands entire existence. When asked why the band decided to name the tour this their front man and Vice staff writer, John Sharkey III, had one simple reply: "Who cares, really? People lie enough about us. Might as well see how dumb people can be in Australia." Tour promoter and Stained Circles Records label executive, Daniel Stewart, stated to us that he has received a lot of flack for the tour name and has had to assure every venue that Clockcleaner are, in fact, not actual skinheads and that the likelihood of skinhead violence is extremely slim. "Promoters are actually affraid that skinheads will show up and destroy the venue. It's been an arduous exercise in willpower." With fellow Aussie noise merchants, Naked On The Vague, joining them for most of the tour this should turn out to be quite an interesting experience.
Fucking mutes. They always seem to be witnessing something. A murder, a robbery, a rape. It's like they've always got to be sticking their big silent beaks in where they're not wanted.
Oi mutes -- how about you just get on with your own lives for once?
I'm referring specifically to the kind of little girl who drags her mum around Waterstone's shouting, "Oh mummy, I just can't understand why all children my age don't read more. Think of what they're missing!"
Now I'm not saying we shouldn't teach little girls to read. But we should definitely think about taking their books away if they're going to start getting all gay about it.
Anyway, they need to learn to enjoy books like an adult. Which means: A) only reading books because they think they're supposed to; and B) exclusively reading books that are much too brainy for them just because they've got a nice front cover, then having to spend the duration constantly referring to the little synopsis on the back just to double check what's going on.
Here's the pitch: What if… your uncle was an alien? Your uncle, is an alien. Let's just take a minute to really think about how that might feel: "Erm, yeah. Suppose you want to know about my uncle. The alien. How does it feel? Well I don't really see that much of him to be honest. I mean he's just my uncle. So probably only get together once or twice a year, maybe Christmas. And I suppose when I do see him it is pretty weird, but it doesn't really affect me day-to-day. It's a bit like if your uncle had diabetes or something--you're aware of it and all that, but it's a tiny, tiny part of your life."
I hate the way this man had obviously been given 'Boots the chemist' gift vouchers for his birthday and spent them all on travel-based accessories. JON
Phase 1) "You know what -- I don't give a shit. I'm buying the Family Fortunes boardgame."
Phase 2) "Oh my god, this is literally the best boardgame I've ever played. I'm definitely playing it every day from now on!"
Phase 3) "Hang on… look how thin these answer pads are! There's probably only about… 50 sheets. That's only 50 games!"
Phase
4) "OK, OK let's not panic. Maybe I could get in touch with the people
at Milton Bradley -- maybe they sell the stationery separately. But
then what if you have to buy the whole game again just to get the
little pads? I'll email them tomorrow and find out. Or… what if I just
photocopied one of the sheets? Then I could run off thousands of them
and I could play forever. Trouble is, they wouldn't be bound in little
notebook form. Unless, I got a quote from the printers for adhesive binding. Can't cost that much…"
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