Okay, I've moaned about it before and yes, I am on it and yes, I do use it to keep in touch with people. I've tracked down old mates and all the rest of it.
However:
I do not want to be a pirate.
I do not want to be a ninja.
I do not want to do a movie quiz.
I do not want to take a compatibility test.
I do not want to tickle anyone.
I do not want to play poker.
I do not want to play blackjack.
I do not want to send fish to your aquarium.
I do not want to stroke someone's pet.
I do not want to give someone a gift.
I DO want to use it to see what my mates are up to. Now fuck off and let me get on with it.
Saturday 15 September 2007
Friday 14 September 2007
Bournemouth town centre promotions/charity/godbothering cunts
FUCK THE FUCK OFF!
I've just walked through the centre of Bournemouth in my lunchbreak - what should be a relatively straightforward exercise. Only it isn't, is it?
No, I don't want a flyer advertising your comedy club. No thanks, I'm not interested in donating to Save The Children. It's okay, I don;t want to buy a Big Issue. No, it's okay, I don't want a flier about a new club night at Dusk Till Dawn. Sorry, I'm not interested in a leaflet about scientology. No, excuse me, I don't want to hear you talking about how God saved us all either. No, I don't want a subway sub for lunch, I've already eaten thanks. No, fuck off Greenpeace I don't want to give you my credit card details to save the world either. And no, I don;t want a new mobile phone contract either.
FUCK OFF YOU BUNCH OF FUCKING CUNTS. GET A PROPER FUCKING JOB AND STOP BOTHERING ME WITH YOUR SHITTY FUCKING LEAFLETS.
I'm off to leave the telly on overnight just to piss off the tree-hugging cunt from Greenpeace who wouldn;t take no for an answer.
I've just walked through the centre of Bournemouth in my lunchbreak - what should be a relatively straightforward exercise. Only it isn't, is it?
No, I don't want a flyer advertising your comedy club. No thanks, I'm not interested in donating to Save The Children. It's okay, I don;t want to buy a Big Issue. No, it's okay, I don't want a flier about a new club night at Dusk Till Dawn. Sorry, I'm not interested in a leaflet about scientology. No, excuse me, I don't want to hear you talking about how God saved us all either. No, I don't want a subway sub for lunch, I've already eaten thanks. No, fuck off Greenpeace I don't want to give you my credit card details to save the world either. And no, I don;t want a new mobile phone contract either.
FUCK OFF YOU BUNCH OF FUCKING CUNTS. GET A PROPER FUCKING JOB AND STOP BOTHERING ME WITH YOUR SHITTY FUCKING LEAFLETS.
I'm off to leave the telly on overnight just to piss off the tree-hugging cunt from Greenpeace who wouldn;t take no for an answer.
Monday 3 September 2007
Fucking Redknapp. Again.
UNBE-COCKING-LIEVABLE
The man's love-hate relationship with theord 'literally' continues apace. On Sunday's coverage of Arsenal v Portsmouth, he misused the word in spectacular fashion. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the following sterling example of how not to use the word 'literally'. If you can envisage this scenariou actually happening in literal terms, your brain will probably explode.
'Fabregas is like Paul Scholes. He sees pictures inside his head and then literally paints them on a football pitch'
No. He. Doesn't.
The man's love-hate relationship with theord 'literally' continues apace. On Sunday's coverage of Arsenal v Portsmouth, he misused the word in spectacular fashion. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the following sterling example of how not to use the word 'literally'. If you can envisage this scenariou actually happening in literal terms, your brain will probably explode.
'Fabregas is like Paul Scholes. He sees pictures inside his head and then literally paints them on a football pitch'
No. He. Doesn't.
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