Friday 20 November 2009

Russian brides. It has been a while.



I've not pursued a Russian bride for a little while, but something about this lady's fringe spoke to me. Here is her first email to me, along with my reply below. I bet myself a mars bar that she doesn't respond to this one. It's a bit dark.

Hi stranger!
My name Kristina. If to be fair, I do not know what to write to you as I for the first time get acquainted on the Internet. But I nevertheless shall try to make it.

I never got acquainted the first with men, in fact men always begin acquaintance to women. I in general am very happy, that could write to you as I badly know a computer and for a long time could not be registered on a site. But with the divine help at me it has turned out. I was interested with your structure and I have dared to write to you. I with impatience shall wait from you the answer. Probably you my second half! I very strongly want to find to myself of the partner in life as to me 31 years, and at me are not present the family and children. In fact time leaves very quickly and we shall not notice, that the life has already has passed by, and we and have not understood for what lived. Forgive, I already probably have bothered you with the reasonings:).

I want to write to you a little about me:My growth of 5.7 foots, weight of 54 kgs. I have attractive appearance and a harmonous figure.I am very cheerful and joyful person with sense of humour. I like when concerning the man and the woman, the leader the man. You can be the leader in attitudes? I always listen to opinion of the man and I adhere to it. I the quiet woman also do not love quarrel. Well, on it I shall finish the letter. Tomorrow I shall come again into the Internet of cafe and I shall be very happy to see your letter. I shall give you my e-mail for fast communication as it is very difficult for me to write to you on a site and I do not know as you to send the photo. Through e-mail I can send you her without problems.

Please reply only to my personal e-mail: xxxxx@yahoo.com

I with the big hope wait from you the letter. Good-bye.
Kristina.


MY ANSWER

Good felching, Kristina!

I feel very lucky that you have contacted me, as I have not received many contacts through the fetish dating site. However, you are beautiful in many ways, firm of fringe and hooped of earring. You are of particular interest to me because you bear a striking resemblance to my ex wife, and I think that perhaps in time you can replace her. It would be most handy if you could.

See, the thing is, I like a bit of the rough stuff with women, if you catch my drift. Nothing too serious, just light whipping, bondage, domination, choking, anal rape, genital piercing, pissing, suffocation, that kind of thing. Now, with the missus, who looks a lot like you, things went a bit too far. With hindsight, the chainsaw was always going to be a dangerous addition to our torture dungeon, but what’s done is done and luckily the walls are thin so her death gurgle would not have been overheard.

It does, however, leave me with a little bit of an issue. I’ve told the neighbours that she has gone to stay with her mother for a couple of months, but at some point they are bond to start asking questions and I’m going to need a replacement who looks the same – at least from a distance. I was wondering, if we chat over email for a while and hit it off, how you would feel about coming over here and marrying me? You look close enough to the (now) ex, and I think we can get around some of the problems in public by getting you to wear a burka and pretend you have converted to Islam.

In return I will provide you with free lodgings, food and all the rest of it – you just need to be willing to adhere to the following routines that I enjoyed with the wife in order to avoid arousing suspicion, and then we could have a wonderful life together.

Monday: Monday is traditionally spitroast day in my house. I usually invite a few friends over – Adolf, Uncle Josef and Peter Sutcliffe – and we will enjoy a really good spitroast. You will be expected to provide us with that, and not to complain. You will also need to clean up afterwards, which can include the unsightly task of getting the lumps out of Adolf’s moustache.

Tuesday: you will be expected to deliver pharmaceutical packages to a number of locations across London. You will not open the packages, and you will not ask the names of those you will meet. You will be contacted by them via cell phone only, and if you are discovered, you are to tell no-one and insist the packages were for personal use only.

Wednesday: Free time.

Thursday: It is traditional on this day that my wife and I will visit our nearest nature reserve where I will bait, trap and kill a wild squirrel. You will then be expected to lick its nuts before we barbeque it and serve it with a nice Chablis.

Friday: Party night! I traditionally host a lavish ballroom affair, with wine on the tables, 50-60 guests, a live jazz band, great food fron internationally-recognised chefs and an after-dinner speaker. You will be expected to look after everyone’s coats.

Saturday: Some friends and I adopted a young girl a few years back, and we share responsibility for looking after her. She normally stays inside, but to keep her fit and healthy, it is inevitable that she will need to leave her quarters from time to time. You are to take her for a brisk walk, then return her to the dungeon. You will need to keep her on the lead at all times as she has a record of escape attempts.

Sunday: I am a church minister, so you will be expected to attend the morning service with me, then provide afternoon tea for other women of the parish, and occasionally attend church fetes and such like with me.

How does that sound to you? Please write back and let me know as soon as possible!

Much love,

Thursday 16 April 2009

People in open plan offices who tell everyone everything that they are doing. As they do it.

You know the sort. Every office has at least one of these fuckers; they seem so bastard determined to justify their existence and look busy that you end up knowing every shitty detail about their meaningless, empty, piss-poor lives. They will have a phone conversation, then relay it back to you immediately afterwards. Even when you can hear it to start with.

'Hi is that Wilson's? Great, can I book 200 leaflets, A4, to be delivered by Tuesday? I can? Thanks, that's great'
*hangs up*
*sidles over on chair*
'I just phoned Wilson's. I've booked 200 leaflets, A4, to be delivered by Tuesday.'

Thanks. For. That.

I'm saving up for a shotgun. Not sure whether I will shoot them or me, but the pain will end either way.

Wednesday 15 April 2009

Redknapp. Literally. AGAIN

I will have to shoot him. apparently, tonight the ball "literally exploded off Ronaldo's boot."

Did it? DID IT? YOU STUPID FUCKING SHITE. His wittering, inane, badly-phrased bullshit continues to pollute our screens. you could see Souness tonight on Sky getting so pissed off with him interrupting that he stopped even trying to answer back, sank into his seat and counted to ten. He is so fucking dumb he even contributes himself. 'Ronaldo is different class, even though he has not had such a great season this year' at which point Ruud Gullit said 'It is crazy that people are saying it is a poor season, it is only because last season was so amazing for him. He is still top scorer in the Premier League and playing brilliantly, it is silly to say he is not having a good season'. To which Redknapp responded 'Yes, it's madness people saying he is not playing well when he has been fantastic this year, last season was amazing for him and he has been superb this year too' BUT IT WAS YOU THAT JUST SAID IT. JUST NOW I HEARD YOU, YOU FUCKING COCKMUNCHER. Just because he lacks the mental capacity to recall anythnig that happened more than 5 minutes ago, he assumes that the entire country is as thick as he is. I hope he gets AIDS and his face drops off. Live on television. And then it is eaten by a horse.

People that 'chillax'

Because relaxing, or even the more modern variant of 'chilling out' (a hateful enough term in itself) isn't quite enough to demonstrate how achingly fucking cool you are, is it. You spiky haired, media-course-graduated, rose-drinking, Jamie Oliver-watching CUNTS. Updating your facebook status with 'chillaxing' is EVEN COOLER, because it makes it sound like you are probably listening to some really cool laid back band that the rest of us haven't discovered yet on your wireless iPod speakers (RRP: £300) while sipping wine on your fucking decking while looking out over your perfectly manicured lawn, probably waiting for some really cool mates to come round later and chillax with you while you eat houmous and pitta bread. When in actual fact you are probably laid on the sofa eating pizza and half-heartedly trying to knock one out over that Northern Irish bird off The One Show. It is a dismal attempt to hide the crushing dullness that is our spare time, and it can just fuck the fuck off. What did you do last night, Greg? Oh, just chillaxed at the pad with my missus. When in actual fact, you sat in the spare room playing Football Manager till 2 am while she read a book then went to bed.

At least I am honest about my downtime, and never pretend to chillax. I'm perfectly comfortable with admitting that I kill prostitutes in my spare time instead. Chillaxing CUNTS.