Taxi drivers are fat, lazy, dirty, unshaven, smelly blokes that are thick in the head, have bad breath and brown teeth. Surely you’ve noticed? It doesn’t matter what you talk to them about – they have been there, done that and know everything there is to know about the subject. Well if you’re so phucking clever how come you are ferrying around drunken arseholes on a Saturday night for a pittance when you could be swanking about having a good time yourself?
Taxi drivers the world over are reckless and dangerous behind the wheel. They are careless and ignorant of road safety. Just because they drive for a living they think they ‘own’ the road, can violate traffic laws and should receive special treatment from other road users. Well I’m sorry Mr Taxi Driver – but you bloody well don’t. Buses, ambulances, police cars and fire engines get priority and right of way, not you sweaty money-thieving lunatics. You have no right to stop suddenly to catch a fare, to hold up traffic or attempt a stupid manoeuvre on a busy road. You are supposed to be professional drivers – my smelly arse!!
For over 25 years it has been law in
What can possibly be their argument not to wear one? 'It’s a bit uncomfortable to wear all the time' or 'I have to keep getting out the car to put luggage in the boot' or 'It restricts my movement' . Well I say bollocks! I’ll tell you what mate, it’s a bit more uncomfortable when you fly out through the windscreen and go screaming head first into a concrete wall or another steel vehicle breaking every bone in your body and ugly face! I mean how many brain cells do you actually need to tell you to wear a seat belt? Too many for these guys clearly.
How come when people book a taxi and it takes ages to arrive then people just accept it? But if you leave them waiting outside for half a nanosecond whilst you grab your coat, they are honking and revving their engines and stoking the meter? I know they have got a living to make, but if I treated my customers like that I wouldn’t last 5 minutes. Rude arrogant bastards.
And another thing Mr Taxi Driver, turn off that poxy CB radio thing from the control centre. Yeah that’s right, the control centre. By that I mean some demented old ugly bird in cheap clothing, smoking like a chimney in a tiny dirty dingy office with wallpaper peeling off the walls and the ceiling dripping with tar. Why not take a seat on one of the deluxe stained and dilapidated chairs for customers to use when waiting? It’s like a Chinese dope den or the gateway to hell!
Anyway (back on track) I don’t wanna hear all that inane garbage that comes from control and deafens me in your cab. I’m a paying customer so turn the stupid thing off! I don’t wanna hear all that shit! It might make you feel wanted or important – but I say bollocks! You are all just paid scum to be used by us proper blokes when we get pissed up and need some low-life to give us a lift home! If you don’t like it then tough. Phuck you lot – next time I’ll take the bus…
Coming soon…
Committee Members
Dog Owners
Caravaners
Car Boot Sale Enthusiasts
Mobile Phones on Trains
Men in Replica Football Shirts
Pikey Gypo Lowlife
People With Personal Number Plates
BBC Local Radio
Unsolicited Phone Calls
Jehovah’s Witnesses
Religious Twats
Lager Drinkers
People Who Think Their Kids Are Cute
Civil Servants
Well as astonishing as it might seem to ‘sane’ people like you and me, it is nevertheless a fact that some blokes don’t drink alcohol! To choose not to drink is such a bewildering and incomprehensible concept that I just don’t understand it. It surely makes no sense whatsoever. What is this point of this heroic self sacrifice? What do they hope to gain from it? It’s like choosing not to watch sport, or wank off, or eat burgers or indeed any pleasurable activity you care to mention.
I’m not just talking about teetotallers here, or those that don’t drink on so called religious or health grounds. I’m talking about the bloke who goes into the pub and orders a sodding diet coke or orange juice! What a dick! Look mate I don’t care if you are bloody well driving, get some phucking beer down your neck! If you’re driving you have no phucking business being in a pub in the first place. Sod off home and have a cup of tea you prize twat! If you are in a pub you drink – end of story. You drink lots and then get a cab, walk, bike, get her indoors to pick you up, take the bus, crib a lift or do whatever it takes! But do me a favour and have a bloody drink! There are lots of options – but I’m afraid pal – not drinking is not one of them OK?
Almost as bad are the pathetic ‘lightweights’ who have a pint or two and then are ‘too full’ to drink any more. What complete and utter tossers! What are you, some kind of tart? Get it down ya neck for phucks sake. I don’t care if you do feel bloated, or sick, so what if you’ll have a hangover in the morning – ever heard of aspirins? No excuses – drinking is what blokes do, and if you don’t then you are a sad pathetic apology for a man, and I hope you rot in hell.
Not just in pubs either. I mean what regular proper bloke doesn’t have a decent supply of cans at home in the fridge? You never know when you might need a beer, or when a mate might call round to pull a tab, or that football match on TV you’d forgotten about. It just makes perfect sense to take precautions and have a ready supply indoors. After all, a beer-stocked fridge is a joy to behold.
Over the years I’ve met several men who don’t drink, or don’t drink much. Without exception they are the most boring and dullest people I’ve have ever met! Boring phuckers with the personality of breeze blocks!
I mean what do these people do in the evening? How can they possibly go through life without the eager anticipation of an early evening pint to look forward to? It really does beggar belief. Try as I might I just cannot fathom their motives or their thought processes. Do they spend the whole evening watching soaps or chatting on the telephone? Perhaps doing some home DIY, or playing with their kids? Really I cannot think of what they can possibly get up to that they consider more important than a beer down at the local.
Look the whole point of being a bloke is to get beered up with your mates on a regular basis. Don’t you dare get on your high horse and think otherwise – you know it’s true. It’s been in our culture for centuries. Eating well and drinking good beer and wine is what life is all about. Feasting and drinking go back to the Middle Ages. Even the monks in their quiet solitude and contemplation got plastered in their monasteries – they all brewed their own beer and made their own wine. Bloody right too!
So to all you non- drinking, self righteous, goody-goody, dull-as-hell, boring farts, I say bollocks to you. Put down that TV remote, grab your hat and wallet and get down the phucking pub now, and get completely arseholed. You know it makes sense!
Unscheduled blog - but it's got to be said!Stupid premature bastards!
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Christmas. Actually that’s a lie, as a kid I absolutely loved it, and now with my own kids I don’t mind it. Well to be honest I put up with it. As the years go by, it gets more and more of a struggle to get enthusiastic about it.
However, what I do remember was that there was never any evidence of Christmas until December , usually not until the second week or so – not phucking November or October for crying out loud!
What the sodding hell is going on? Nowadays, the summer draws to a close, you’ve just put the barbeque back in the garage, given the lawn a final cut, and rolled the hosepipe up, and before you can have a wank, there are Christmas decorations in the shops and all the stupid festive paraphernalia that goes with it! Arrrggghh!
What about the traditional office party? Nowadays most are held ridiculously early, sometimes in November! How the hell can you get into the festive spirit then? The whole point of the 'Christmas Office Do' is to let your hair down a bit! It was customarily held the Saturday before Christmas so the staff and management could forget their inhibitions and have a really great time. Being so close to Christmas, work was usually slack and staff would generally be getting into the festive spirit with no fear of reprisal. After all, everyone would get drunk, have a good time and with the Christmas and New Years holidays coming up nobody would remember what happened so long ago. When everyone returned sober and refreshed behind their desks in January, nobody would remember a thing!
So tell me, how the hell are you supposed to shag your secretary, insult the boss, grope Mrs Higgins' tits from accounts and then fall face down in your own pile of vomit if you have to be up for an important meeting bright and early the next morning in November?
OK – so we can blame the companies. Fair enough, but they are in business and if they can save money and careers by having the Xmas party early it’s understandable, if unpleasant. We can blame the shops for their stupidly in starting Christmas early – but that too is understandable, as they want to make extra profits.
HOWEVER, THE STUPID INDIVIDUALS WHO PUT UP THEIR CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS IN NOVEMBER ARE CLEARLY TWATS OF THE HIGHEST ORDER!
I rack my brains and try to think of what possible explanation there could be for such stupid and bizarre behaviour! These people are mentally ill!
My guess is that these brain dead morons are so pathetic and insecure that they just want to be liked. So they buy the most expensive outside Christmas decorations they can afford. Stupid phucking snowmen glowing brightly, neon flashing Santas, elves, Rudolphs, hundreds of flashing icicles hanging from the guttering and lots of dazzling lights on the tree outside. What a load of bollocks! These idiots can’t even see the phucking things they’ve decided to put up – it’s all for the 'benefit' of passers by! Well thank you so much! They are indoors, probably peeking through the curtains, hoping to see the faces of passers by as they stare dumbfoundedly at the flashing monstrosity they have created on their house!
Now come on boys – hire that flamethrower or chain saw, grab that pick axe or baseball bat. Walk around town and take all this shit out! We should not have to put up with such hideous decorations on our streets. Pull down those odious twinkling lights, rip down those blinking neon candles, smash those cute snowman into pulp and cave smiling Santa’s phucking head in!
Enough is enough!
I’m sorry, but there can be no denying it – people who smoke are just plain stupid! Thick as shit –and what’s more - they know it too! I’ve never met a smoker who hasn’t wanted to give up, tried to give up or isn't about to give up soon! They know that smoking is probably the most unintelligent, self indulgent, mind-numbingly stupid thing that any human can do. Yet they still do it!
It has been common knowledge for over a generation that smoking kills. It kills horribly, usually in a slow and painful way, a pitiful death. But just in case they haven’t noticed or lived in a cave all these years …it is plainly written in BIG BLOCK LETTERING on the front of every freaking packet. ‘SMOKING KILLS’. How clear does it have to be for Christ’s sake? It’s really quite astonishing if you think about it!
Sure, tobacco has an addictive quality, no doubt. I’m sure it’s very hard to give up. It takes quite a bit of effort and determination to quit. BUT HELLO!! This stuff is phucking killing you for Gods sake! You will die a horrible death, your lungs will fill with grotesque tar, your body will be riddled with cancer, your loved ones will slowly watch you die an agonising death. How much of an incentive do you actually need? It is amazing what people will do not to admit to what they are doing!
So why did they start smoking in the first place? To look cool? Does having a stupid fag hanging out their mouth and their breath stinking of rancid fumes make them trendy? I think not!
It’s possible to understand why the older generation smoke. In those days there simply was not the information available to let them know how really bad it was. That together with lots of advertising (now banned) and historical reasons (everyone smoked) it's really not surprising that they became hooked.
There is however ABSOLUTELY NO EXCUSE WHATSOEVER for the modern youngster to smoke. Unless they are blind, deaf or severely brain damaged there is simply no reason to smoke. Everyone knows it kills. It really makes me sad and angry to see young attractive people with their whole lives ahead of them smoking. They are truly the thickest people who ever drew breath.
What about the cost of smoking? At over £5.00 a packet, a pack a day amounts to over £150.00 a month. Ok it’s not a mortgage payment but it soon adds up. The cost alone should be enough to put people off, but sadly not. Yeah, and you make my clothes stink too, you selfish bastards. Keep your foul stinking, pollutants to yourself. I drink beer, but I don’t piss it out all over you do I?
Have you ever been walking outside a new office building during the day and seen the sad pathetic smokers forced to smoke outside in the freezing cold? Shivering in the wind and vainly attempting to shield their match to light their fags, whist leaving their co-workers to cover their work load so they can get a quick puff-and-a-drag. It has got to be one of the most sad and demeaning sights ever to behold. Surely they must realise then how stupid their habit really is.
I normally wind up my blogs, with an attempt at a witty way to kill off the perpetrators. Sadly I do not have to do it this time, They are taking care of that themselves more than adequately thank you very much.
Actually this blog has really pissed me off. I usually thoroughly enjoy putting the world in order on a Monday but this time it has just made me depressed and fed up. Might as well go and top myself – or maybe I’ll go and light up instead.
Right then – people who wash their cars – what total twats!
Technology is a truly wonderful thing. It has given us so many wonderful things… sliced bread, satellite TV, Off Licences, computers, kebab shops, MP3 players, the internet, air travel, Carlsberg lager, the Space Shuttle, wank mags and so many other incredible and amazing things. Inventions that make our life so much easier. Labour saving devices, luxuries and a whole multitude of brilliant things that you can’t begin to name then. Ok then, so please answer me this simple question : Why the hell do people go outside and wash their cars when there is a perfectly good car wash just down the road?!
I mean you don’t rub two bits of wood together to make a fire - you use an invention called a match. You don’t walk 5 miles to the nearest pub, you call a cab, and you don’t try to cook a curry when there is an Indian takeaway just around the corner! It’s not really that hard. Why then, do these muppits spend an hour or so carefully washing and waxing their precious car when there is a perfectly good car wash a few miles away? Or better still one of those hand car washes where you sit inside feeling superior as the local spotty teenage delinquents wax, clean and polish the car for you.
How in Gods name did it come to this? How the hell were women allowed near a golf course? Who is responsible for this debacle? It is sickening beyond belief! And wrong, so very wrong. The closest any woman should get to a golf course is serving the ham, egg and chips at the local men only Monthly Golf Society. Then, if she is clever, she can dash home and sort the tea out for her old man before he gives her a good slapping.
As any male golfer will tell you, getting stuck behind a ladies four-ball is the ultimate disaster. A pain so immense, so mind-bogglingly awful that no man should ever have to endure it. Yet they do – frequently!
Even the simplest and shortest golf course is evidently far too hard for the woman golfer. They are simply not good enough. It’s just not right and proper that they should be allowed on the course. After all, men wouldn’t be seen attempting to play netball or enter knitting contests, so why don’t they show some respect and sod off!?
If they must play (which clearly they must not) then we should insist they play on their own purpose-built dedicated Ladies Only Courses. These should consist of half a dozen short holes of 100 yards in a small loop enclosing a complex where they can stop, sit down, have a chat, perhaps do some washing and ironing, knit, sew, hold coffee mornings, talk utter bollocks and generally stay out of the way of real golfers!
And now we come to ‘The Ultimate Sin’ – playing golf with your wife! What the phuck is wrong with these morons? I mean, come on fella, are you out of your tiny mind? Surely the whole point in playing golf is that it gets you away from the bitch indoors for a few sacred hours. How stupid do you have to be to play golf with her? Absolutely unforgivable.
Clearly any man found guilty of this heinous crime should be strangled to death by wrapping his driver around his neck and then strung up to a nearby tree to rot. A suitably labelled sign displayed nearby can then act as a warning to any man who harbours such similar stupid ideas. Then we might have a chance!
Well firstly, I must be honest and admit that I own a bicycle. Furthermore, I admit that I occasionally go on bike rides – usually in the summer months with the kids in tow slowly peddling down a quiet country road to a nice pub with garden. Sup a few pints and then leisurely wind our way back home again, always careful and aware of the occasional vehicle that may pass. If we hear or see a vehicle coming, than we happily move out of the way to the verge of the road, stop and wait for them to pass. Healthy respect given to the vehicle at all times – after all they are large and heavy and can do damage, plus of course they have the right of way without question!
What is it then with these career twats in brightly coloured, body hugging Lycra?
We’ve all seen them. In their skull contoured helmets, bent low over their stupid handlebars, butt rhythmically swaying from side to side on their cycles with ultra thin road tyres on super lightweight frames. They are like creatures from another planet. The Planet Knob.
Have they got a death-wish? Have they got huge chips on their collective shoulders? Do they think that because they look like assholes we will feel sorry for them and not mow them down? And why don’t these tossers ever get out of the bloody way? They seem to take great pleasure in not allowing motorists to pass them and will go out of their way and jeopardise their own safety to do so. There can be a long queue of frustrated traffic behind them and a convenient place for them to pull off the road, but these twats won’t even change their course or speed one jot to let legitimate road users pass them. Quite often they will come in pairs and decide to ride side by side – I mean these morons must die!
It is as if they are on some kind of life mission to totally and completely make life a misery for car drivers! Now excuse me, but roads were built for and funded by car drivers, not these self righteous twats who never pay a penny in road tax and think they own the road! In my opinion they have absolutely no right of way whatsoever. In fact when a car comes up behind them, they should get off their stupid vehicles and bow humbly several times to the passing motorist. They are the scourge of society, they look ridiculous and they cause much stress and anxiety to all other road users.
Never has a solution been more obvious and deserved. Mow the bastards down! Wipe them from the face of the earth. Run them over, then reverse and run over them again just to be sure! Take their bicycle pumps and shove it so far up their asses it comes out their ears. Burn down the factories of the cycle manufacturers, close down the shops that sell the stupid stuff they wear, tarmac over all the cycle lanes, ban the tour de France or better still relocate it and make it run concurrently with the Monoco Grand Prix on the same track. These bastards must die. Then and only then can say we say… job done.
Slaphead, slaphead, over thereNow, let me make this clear from the start. I have nothing against men with bald heads who are either over 65, under medication causing hair-loss or have decided to shave their heads on purpose. What I cannot forgive however are men who are bald for no good reason. What the hell is wrong with these people? It’s so unnatural.
Look, it’s quite simple. Baring unfortunate accidents, men have, amongst other things, two arms, two legs, two ears, two eyes, a mouth, a nose and hair on top of their heads. What’s difficult about that? It’s called being a human being. I mean that’s what humans have on their heads – hair – right?
So what’s wrong with these follicly challenged persons? Why are there so many of these deformed slap-heads around? Are they missing some vital nutrient from their diet or do they spend hours plucking out the hairs? Whatever it is, it must take them considerable effort to look so stupid and ridiculous. Hat’s off to them!
What about the wig wearers? I mean come on. Do they really think they can get away with that? Elton John perhaps the most famous rug wearer of them all looks a total pratt. We all saw him rapidly going bald in his early career – and then a miracle –he turns up the next day with a full head of someone else’s hair! Who is he trying to kid? Everyone knows he is an ugly, bald, rich, slap-headed poof, so what’s the point?
However the ones that really take the piss and are beneath contempt are the slap-heads with beards! I mean what’s all that about? It’s like they have got their stupid heads on upside down or something – it’s just not right. What are they trying to say to the rest of us? “Look I know I’m bald on top, but I really can grow hair, honest I can – look I’ve got some on my face” Pathetic or what?
I think all people who are unnaturally ‘slappy’ should be obligated to wear special moulded solar panels on their bald heads. These panels can be connected to a small charger unit kept in their pocket. That way they can generate small bits of electricity and charge up batteries or something for the rest of us. Then, next time you see a slap head walking down the street, you can lob him a AA and say, “Here baldy, charge that up for me will ya?”
Job done.
Coming Soon...
Hard to imagine really, but apparently such ‘men’ do exist.The calendar is filled with a glittering array of enthralling and exciting sporting events, some of which can literally take your breath away. The tension and drama of our top sporting moments is better than sex for most men.
We all have our preferred sporting events, and there are too many to mention them all, but where would we be without The Premier League, The Champions League, The Open, The Ryder Cup, The Six Nations, Test Matches vs. the Aussies, The Grand National? Each bloke has is own particular favourite and nothing will stop him from watching it unfold. Nothing. Superb excitement and high drama. The outcome can make you feel absolutely elated, on top of the world, or it can make you miserable, desolate and devastated. Not just watching of course, but participating too. How else do you expect to get away from the wife and kids for hours on end if you don't play a bit of golf or some other sport?
Yet amazingly some blokes don’t watch, don't play and aren’t interested.
When I first met a bloke like this I was shocked, stunned, speechless. I didn’t know how to respond, how to react. It was like someone saying that they didn’t drink beer! I mean it just didn’t make sense. What do they do instead? Sew buttons on their shirts, do the ironing, bake a cake? – I mean come on! What on earth do they talk about when they go down the pub? ? It makes you want to give them a good kicking.
Clearly they are assholes of the highest order and have something severely wrong with them.
At least with women you know where they are with regard to sport. They don’t watch it ever, period. That’s understandable and fair enough. Assuming we watch sports that we enjoyed playing at one time or another, its hard to imagine getting worked up watching a game of netball or rounders (unless they are topless of course).
So women don’t watch sport, but blokes do and that’s that.
What then are we to do with these ‘male’ oddities?
To start with they need to be shunned and despised at every opportunity, that’s goes without saying, but I don’t think that is going far enough. Perhaps, since these blokes wish to be like girls, we should grant their wishes and hack off their dicks! Yes, clearly castration is the solution. We can then insist they have 'Dickless Twat' tattooed on their foreheads to warn them from the rest of us proper blokes. Job done!
(I've just had a horrific thought. Although I am leaving the topic of 'Blokes That Don’t Drink' for a later blog, it has just occurred to me that there might actually be a bloke somewhere who doesn’t watch sport or drink – bloody hell!!! What the phuck are we supposed to with him?)
Coming Soon...
Slap Heads
Cyclists in Lycra
Women Golfers
People Who Wash Their Cars
Idiots Who Smoke
Blokes That Don't Drink
Woman Are Hideous (Part 2)
Poofs and Dykes
Taxi Drivers
Committee Members
Dog Owners
Caravaners
Car Boot
Mobile Phones on Trains
Men in Replica Football Shirts
Fat people are disgusting and repulsive. They have no self-discipline or control and are an utter disgrace to the human race. They are self-indulgent to the extreme. I hate every atom in their vile, bloated, lard-ridden bodies. All that matters to them is what's next to shove down their greedy fat gobs!
Don’t they realize how positively disgusting they look? How hideously fat and ugly. Why aren’t they thoroughly ashamed of themselves? Why don’t they stay indoors out of my sight? Surely these overweight fatties must look at themselves in the mirror and feel appalled at the sight. Assuming they do, then why don’t they do something about it? I’ll tell you why, it's because they’re too bloody 'let's stuff my face' lazy!
Now don’t get me wrong, a beer gut is obviously cool. Having a big beer belly is a sure sign of class and contentment – but let’s not confuse this with the real slobs of society who continually stuff food down their gluttonous throats. What’s the matter with them? Do they think that all the shops are suddenly going to run out of food, so they have to stuff as much grub in their mouths as they can before it happens?– I mean, I really want to know.
What is so sad or even comical, is that many of these fat bastards are on diets! Do me a favour you lazy fat slobs. It’s quite simple – put away your “lose weight now” books, calorie controlled diets, slim-fast supplements. Forget your visit to Weight-Watcher sessions or your woeful attempts at exercise…if you want to lose weight…
…DON’T BLOODY WELL EAT SO MUCH!!!!!
If you eat a lot you get fat, if you don’t eat a lot you don't get fat . Bloody simple really.
How difficult is that for Christ’s sake?
Some of these fat people will argue their innocence…" It's not my fault, I have big bones, its my metabolism, it’s in my genes." Yeah right! The only things that’s in their jeans is their gargantuan fat cellulite butt!.
And answer me this, why don’t these collosal bloaters have to pay double for their air fares? It must take twice as much fuel to get the aircraft off the ground with these enormous tubbies onboard, that is if their expansive buttocks can fit in the seats. Never mind, I suppose the normal, self controlled, average weight people will just have to subsidise them. How fair is that?
In additional of course, because of their pathetic lack of will power, they become so fat and grotesque that they develop health problems. What a surprise! Did they expect carrying around an extra 5-10 stone of lard around was good for them? When was the last time you saw an old fat person? Of course it is the average man in the street, Mr Taxpayer who has to foot the heath bill for these fat obese slobs.
The solution therefore is obvious, every person in the country should be seen by a doctor once a year by law and if they are deemed more than 3 stone overweight they have their mouths surgically wired shut until they are thin. Simple and effective treatment – they lose weight, we save money – everyone’s happy. Plus we can all point and laugh at them.
Job done.
Coming soon...
Blokes That Don't Like Sport
Slap Heads
Cyclists in Lycra
Women Golfers
People Who Wash Their Cars
Idiots Who Smoke
Blokes That Don't Drink
Woman Are Hideous (Part 2)
Poofs and Dykes
Taxi Drivers
Committee Members
Dog Owners
Caravaners
Car Boot Sale Enthusiasts
