It never ceases to amaze me what people do to their bodies. They’ll have bits chopped off, bits sewn on or pushed in, they’ll bake themselves orange on sunbeds, they’ll dye their hair green or purple, they’ll stick rings or pins through their most intimate parts.

It’s no skin off my nose of course, and hey, we still live in a *cough* free country, but the one thing that really puts me off is women with tattoos. Nothing howls ‘chav’ quite like it.

Take for instance that IsAC heroine and woman for our time Katie Price. Don’t her tattoos really enhance her appearance? Not.

Daily Fail

But even our Kate’s excesses pale into comparison against one Esperance Fuerzina, who claims to be the world’s most tattooed woman, with 99.8 of her body covered. Yes, I’m ahead of you there; where’s the 0.2% that ISN’T tattooed? I’m sure we’d all love to know;

Metro

Now bear in mind that this doesn’t include other ‘modifications’ such as getting her tongue split. I mean, imagine actually paying to get this done to yourself. It’s batshit crazy I reckon. Even worse, imagine waking up first thing to the sight of that boat race. It’s like something out of the X-men. You’d likely shit the bed.

I think on balance, I’d rather not wake up at all.

Nominated by Ron Knee.

I love collecting music. It’s my thing. I have way over 2,000 CDs at this point and well over 3,000 titles in all formats overall. It’s a great hobby. Relatively inexpensive and provides hours of pleasure. I’ll even go as far as saying my collection is akin to a time machine. I can play a given album and I’m immediately transported back to the time when I first played it and re-live the emotional highs and lows of what was happening in my life at that time. Music is truly a wonderful and powerful thing.

The other day I was browsing in my local used record/CD store. A guy who works there (Dave – who I didn’t know) happened to stroll past and noticed I was wearing a Gary Numan tour T-shirt. He made some comment about the ‘Holy One’ and engaged me in conversation. During our chat I learned our musical tastes overlapped to quite a degree and he mentioned a few bands I might like none of which I’d ever heard of before. Quick as you like, Dave whipped out his ‘phone and played me some clips and one in particular sounded very interesting to my ears. As luck would have it, the store had new copies of that band’s 2nd and 3rd albums in the rack. I decided to take a punt (that’s how you end up with a ton of CDs in your collection) and asked Dave of those two, which would he recommend. He suggested their third album.

An hour or so later I’m back home and ready to give my new purchase a spin. First track and I’m absolutely blown away. It’s dark, heavy, atmospheric, jangling guitar, swathes of electronics with a haunting male vocal line that repeats:

Don’t say you love
If I don’t say I love who you are now
Who are you now?

The whole album is quite exceptional. It’s a rare treat to be this mesmerised so quickly by something completely new to me. I’ve since ordered their entire back catalogue (another way you end up with a ton of CDs in your collection). Yeah, I think they’re THAT good.

My point is, I just happened to be wearing a Numan shirt, Dave the store guy just happened to walk past, noticed it and had sufficient time on his hands to stop for a chat. All of which lead to me discovering a new band I now absolutely love. If I’d worn a different shirt that day or Dave wasn’t working that day or hadn’t walked past or …. none of this would have happened. How many other bands am I not going to discover who I’d love if I heard them? I suppose it’s silly and irrational, but I find that thought sad and depressing and a bit of a cunt. Dave has over 8,000 CDs in his collection which is also a bit of a cunt. I’ll never get close to that before I peg it.

The Band: Drab Majesty
The Album: Modern Mirror
The Song: A Dialogue

youtube

Nominated by Imitation Yank.

Walk down just about any high street and you’ll be met with the same depressing sight; the shabby frontages of the likes of B and M, Poundstretcher, and American ‘Candy’ stores. If you’re looking for cheerful individuality just forget it.

But to my mind when it comes to lowering the tone of an area, you can’t beat that establishment whose sole aim is to part the naïve or the addicted from his hard-earned benefit money, as quickly as is humanly possible. I refer of course to the betting shop, or the bookies; Coral, Paddy Power, Ladbrokes, Betfred and others.

You’ll see them strung out about the place, their frontages at once gaudy and seedy in their corporate colours. Absolutely classy. Not. They’ll likely be very near to a pub, to facilitate easy passage between one and the other.

I’ve no idea what these places are like on the inside, never having been in one. But I visualise counters surrounded by banks of screens with pasty-faced losers staring glassy-eyed at the parade of runners and riders, disgarded betting slips strewn around their feet.

I’d love all these cynical, money-grubbing cunts to crash and burn, but as long as there’s a punter with a pound in his pocket and a burning belief that he knows the winner of the 3.30 at Kempton, it just ain’t gonna happen.

Exploitative bastards, and classless with it.

standard

Nominated by Ron Knee.

Are cunts.

It’s been a while, but my drive home after work tonight has prompted me to renew my already low opinion of cunts who drive fucking Audis.
So earlier managed to get cut up on my left side whilst in the leftmost lane with nothing on my left apart from this ginger Audi driving cunt, do what these cunts do, driving like an absolute cunt, anyway I let it go.

Then we get further down the road, I get in my lane thanks to using my indicator and someone letting me in and we inch along, then ginger Audi boy, after sliding up the wrong lane as far as he can go, cunt boy decides he wants to be in my lane and he, s now level with me and wants to be let in, as ginger boy is an Audi driver, there is no trace of an indicator, just tries to push his way in.

So after being mouthed at to get fucked by myself, he boots it and cuts someone up in front of me, after the next roundabout I’m level with this jizz gargling cunt again and he is in the wrong fucking lane again for the 4th time in a mile by my reckoning, anyway this fucker ended up having to choose another exit in the end, rather than a concrete island..
So what the fuck is it with Audi drivers, is there a course Audi send them on when they buy their Skoda in drag, or it’s the inferiority complex of owning a Volkswagen and paying double for it.
So to today’s ginger, Blue Audi driver in Cardiff, you sir are a cunt, maybe you should treat yourself a copy of the fucking highway code and learn how to drive, ya cunt…

A personal opinion

Nominated by Fuglyucker.

Cunters with long memories may recall me posting about some bizarre sexual encounters reported in the meeja; a couple of Aussies getting up to no good with an unfortunate trout, and a nutter from oop north who tried to stick his dick down a gull’s throat. Not to mention a gentleman of a certain persuasion who was found guilty of sexually assaulting his chickens.There are some strange people about.

Well here’s another tale from the weird and wonderful world of the sexual pervert. Step forward one Evgenii Kuvshinov, a Russian tourist in Thailand who’s been pinched by the local cops after trying it on with a cow.

Apparently a naked Kuvshinov was seen sidling up to a bull, but thought better of it.
Turning his attention to a tethered cow, the cunt tried his luck, only to end up being gored by the lady, who didn’t take kindly to his unwanted attentions.

A chastened Kuvshinov was taken to hospital for treatment, and presumably will be suitably dealt with the authorities in due course . The condition of the cow remains uncertain. It’s to be hoped that she’s receiving appropriate treatment and trauma counselling following this outrageous assault on her virtue.

Bizarre indeed.

the sun

Nominated by Ron Knee.