June 24th, 2007

More highly colourful language from MR AGREEABLE!

Waking up to a breakfast of freshly sliced pineapples, mint yoghurt, pumpernickel and a gallon of lager sloppings from my local hostelry which I acquired for nothing as the pub dog had been drinking from them, I push aside my breakfast tray and peruse the weekly journals. Therein, I read that Annie Lennox, alongside Corinne Bailey Rae and James Morrison, are to head up a special “Peace One Day” concert. “Something that is common to every man, woman and child on the planet is the notion of peace,” said Lennox.”Without peace, we cannot survive,” she added.

She’s really, bending over, jiggling her f***ing arse and asking to be f***ing kicked into the middle of f***ing next week, isn’t she? How f***ing self-righteous, bleeding heart obvious, vaguely platitudinous, Aretha Franklin imitating, ego-swelling and f***ing obscenely, rampantly, you’d-rather-listen-to-your-own-dog-being-f***ing-strangled unlistenable is this steaming, rank farrago of cocksucking f***ing dysentery-infected horseshite likely to be? It’s tempting to raise a f***ing private army, steam across the f***ing North Sea and provoke a war with f***ing Holland just to f***ing piss Annie Lennox off! “Without peace we cannot survive”? What the f*** are you talking about, you dessicated, f***tarded streak of f***ing peroxide? There’s probably not been a moment in your sorry, superannuated f***ing lifetime when some c*** hasn’t been raining hellfire down on some other poor c*** but you’ve survived and f***ing thrived, more’s the f***ing pity!

The Hard Rock Cafe is to open a theme park, based upon its own activities, in California, it seems. A launch for the park will be held in London, with Sham 69 in attendance.

Sure, because it’s not enough to f***ing turn rebellion into burgers, fries, Thousand Island dressing and bottles of f***ing pissy beer, is it? Now you’ve got to have some c***y theme park, run by c***s for c***s, whose working title should be “The C***ing C***erama” if you had a f***ing shred of f***ing integrity! I hope the f***ing place burns down within two days and His Holiness The Pope himself flies over from the Vatican just to dance on the f***ing graves of each and every one of the f***ing victims!

The Blazing Zoos are a hot new country and western combo, much touted in some quarters and much in demand on the live circuit. They hardly need any introduction, naturally, but those among you who have perhaps been to Mars these past few weeks are directed to their site, http://www.myspace.com/theblazingzoos where you can hear them perform their latest smash, “I Didn’t Have The Material”. Their lead singer and songwriter is, I am given to understand, an Australian of some description.

“I Didn’t Have The Material”? Let me f***ing tell you something pal – you still f***ing haven’t! Christ on a giant, revolving f***ing cock-shaped Turkey Twizzler, this is the f***ing aural equivalent of a f***ing basement flood in a f***ing redneck bar! “Mess” isn’t the f***ing word! It sounds like some sort of “Can farm animals play music?”-type experiment! This wretched f***ing group constitute a f***ing wart on the genitals of mankind! What the f*** persuaded a f***ing kangaroo eater to go into Country & Western, anyway? Australia’s answer to f***ing Johnny Cash? I don’t f***ing think so, unless Johnny Cash asked the question, “Would the world’s biggest, most talentless, tin-eared f***ing c*** please step forward and form a record-breakingly unnecessary band, please?” Still, nothing wrong with the name, or at least nothing that couldn’t be fixed by changing two of the words to “F***ing” and “Arseholes”!

India Knight has recently taken advantage of her column in the Sunday Times to muse upon the important topic of Katie Hopkins of The Apprentice, a topic which has been starved of attention in other quarters of the media. Regarding Ms Hopkins, a self-styled “superbitch”, Ms Knight suggests that perhaps she was “incredibly unpopular at school” and that she proves that in business being too nice can be an impediment. “Nobody gets a job in business because they’re a lovely human being,” ¬†she informs us, adding that “Everybody has been talking about Katie for the last 11 weeks.”

For screaming out f***ing loud, how many million more times does it have to be said? Who’s this “everybody”?” You and your equally f***ing vaccum-headed, gossiping, f***ing lunch-doing, f*** all-better-to-talk-about friends are not “everybody”, do you f***ing understand? A life in which more than ten seconds are spent watching The f***ing Apprentice is a life that should be f***ing donated early to medical science the better to determine how some f***ing specimens of humanity have devolved into such total, time-wasting tits in the f***ing 21st century! Nobody gets a job in business because they’re a lovely human being? Just as well someone gets a job at The Sunday Times because they’re a stupid human being, that’s for f***ing sure!

Finally, Home Office minister Liam Byrne has suggested that the identity card scheme will in years to come be an institution on a par with the railways, one we shall wonder how we ever did without.

What the f*** is it with these New Labour tossrags? Have they all had that part of the brain that tells you, “Jesus, if I were to come out and say that I’d sound like a right f***ing twat” surgically removed? It’s not us who should be identifying ourselves to you, Byrne, it’s jumped-up f***ing functionaries of the state like you who should be identifying yourselves to us! Can I suggest a tattoo on your f***ing forehead reading “CONTROL-OBSESSED C***” ¬†might just do the f***ing job in your case?

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