I'M HERE AND QUEER - But don't YOU bring it up

Off the bat, before anyone reading this takes up umbrage with me - I am not prejudice about homosexual people, I've not pre-judged them as I've mostly thought about what I am about to write - mostly.

I do not have an issue with homosexual people, however this is limited to the same respect that I don't have an issue with politics or religion (within reason the occasional genocide aside most are quiet nice). as i said this is limited though to something that can be boiled down to the following: "you can believe whatever you want, so long as you don't try and shove it down my throat", homosexuality much like religion - if you see religion as mostly catholic priests - the phrase 'shove down my throat' may cause a chuckle, but I call attention to it here to take away the humour from it. Gobble cock . Giggity

I have zero issue with homosexual people what's so ever. I keep repeating this so I don't get stabbed to death  but also, using the word ' H O M O S E X U A L ' after referring to a lesbian as gay, they got rather shirt-y with me. stopping me every time I refereed to them as gay and corrected me hand out as "I'm a lesbian actually" or just mouthing 'lesbian' to the person I was speaking to. I GET IT. You have chosen upon a preferred  sexual orientation, congrats, not to be big headed or anything but I was asserted with my sexuality for awhile now, but you don't see me having a parade about how straight I am.

It perplexed me and upon asking them later why they decided to correct me each time I got: "It is because I am a Lesbian and not gay". What? Apparently due to the increasing use of the word gay some homosexual people dislike being refereed to as gay. e.g. God that lesson was gay, gay of cause replacing: God that lesson was a fucking pain in the arse I wish I could brain the teacher. Therefore gay/lesbian people are refereed to in my mind as - Homosexual, as despite it being an extra few pain in the arse syllables to pronounce at least makes people happy. Seeing as I dislike censoring myself for other people, I like to think that I'm using it to be more accurate, Homo meaning 'same as' and Hetero meaning 'other than' and sexual meaning... Well I'm not a nuclear physicist but I'm pretty sure that means something to do with boning.

Tying these neat little strands together and making this rant worthy it pisses me off to equal degree of parents having pictures of their kids in your face, I hate people who define themselves as parents now and expect you to be amazed at the fact they managed to procreate the same way I hate homosexual people who define themselves by their sexuality. Granted parents have a better reason to say "I'm Mrs Blank and my son X Y Z'ed, I R a parent" but its still a pain in the arse, as if they expect you to hold them to a higher degree because they are parents and by extension trust worthy? You can have a offspring, hell 50 but that doesn't mean I'm going to trust you with anything having a kid doesn't make you instantly a saint, social services does exist for a reason. This is comparable to homosexual people who define themselves as gay, but disallow you from calling them gay (see what I did there with the title).

A great deal of homosexual people are obviously gay to the degree of being able to spot this down the street with ridicules stereotypical body language and speech patterns -I remember a news article about a burglar who was recognised due to his 'camp' method of walking! Therefore their is no need to define yourself as gay in conversation... Okay granted there are some that do not stick to stereotypes (in this term I mean the obviously gay stereotype not smoking hot gay stereotype) But they get even more angry then the less attractive stereotypes  I'm sorry your an attractive person who just so happens to be gay, I think if a strange started flirting with me I'd find it a compliment, not fly off the handle bars axe in hand. I don't introduce myself as a white, middle class, straight man I'd like to think you can surmise this from me and my posh boy accent, life isn't a book needing each character dictated to the person in front of you.

But I digress... I could go further in saying that some homosexual people think they will be better parents then parents in a heterosexual relationship, but that is prejudice of its own accord. What makes you think you will be better parents or can give more love then a person in a heterosexual relationship. Don't bring statistics into this either ass hole (Donkey anus) much like the saying women are worse drivers then men, women are only worse drivers as there are more of them on the road, meaning likelihood of accidents increase, the number of homosexual parents to heterosexual parents is so low it is no wonder they are better parents as there is less of them to pad/mess up the percentage. This is a good thing, if the statistic ever switched in terms of numbers at least - meaning the number of heterosexual parentage is dwarfed by homosexual parentage - the world may not last for long, or you better damn well hope scientific technology leaps some more.

In closing I believe the homosexual community should Leave off the gay rights thing. You have enough now, up there with women's right and race rights its becoming increasingly tedious to be Mr Whittier-then-white-guy, for some of you there was a number of century's involving some slight but do you have to keep forcing it down peoples throats, not even religion is that bad, they have the preferred way of thinking to outsiders which is: you can either believe our way or fuck off and we'll see you roast in (insert version of hell here)!


Long story short this is another example of hypocrisy gay people demand rights whilst damning those that don't want to help them or just don't care-  as degenerates or homophobic, I'm not homophobic, I just couldn't give a damn who you bugger, so long as its not me.

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Gaming is Satan!

Like I said at the end of the last blog, violence in video games is often in the eye of the media, after the 2011 Norway attacks carried out by Anders Behring Breivikand 69 people were massacred, the reason why gaming was involved in this is that this fool stated that he practiced using Call of Duty: modern warfare 2 "for training sessions". Twat. This caused uproar (again) that these games are far too violent, blah, blah, self righteous kitten cuddling blah.

                                                                                                                           

On the other hand It is fair to say that some games are a little too violent, manhunt for example is a game that has been banned in the UK - amongst other countries - due to just how jaw droppingly violent it is, game play includes decapitating your fellow man with tennis rackets where you get more points depending on stealthy, violent or brutal kills and it shows you how to do so in extensive detail. Yes, this is violent and if you get your rocks of this way then you are undoubtedly already messed up in the head so hardly a headline act, just another nutter who wants to kill others around them and are undoubtedly one of the mad house retards the game is based upon. To which case it isn't the fault of games per say just that you've mental issues and should be sectioned.

Where Breivikand (choosing the hardest part of his name to pronounce of cause) starts things off with being the exception to normal gamers and flies off the deep end, the other example of this is the recent Batman film massacre where, a fellow rocked up; masked and clad in black, hair painted red and stated he was "The Joker" before tossing a gas canister into the crowd (much like with the first seen in The Dark Knight) and opened fire upon the crowd, he killed 12 and injured 58. Due to his young age the media decided, it must be the result of video games and that he was a bit of a loner, but is that ever blamed? Maybe he wouldn’t have gone bat shit if he actually had friends? I would say the same for Breivikand but he was off the wall, Hitler style crazy and there’s a difference between misunderstood and fucktarded.

Though I’m getting away from things here, and should probably ground myself with some facts – maybe that would set me apart from any other person getting annoyed that news papers, and columnists wait for a massacre before latching onto it and blaming game developers and the general desensitisation of society. If you’re reading this then I hope you are an intelligent person who can read, preferably write and know the difference between reality and VIDEO GAMES! 

By no means my photo

The hint is in the title of them, anyone who sees a 2x4 rammed down the throat of a clown suit wearing zombie and then decides that, that looks like a good idea you’ve clearly missed the plot that this is a game. The developers allow you to do it as you would in reality – I wouldn't mine into the centre of the planet or command an army into a war, firstly because I’m lazy, and second because I’m a pussy. Game creates escapism where you can do all these things but are returned to the normal, non pixel filled world at the end.

If I’m honest the real world is boring and in desperate need of the occasional checkpoint or reload, games mostly have both of these and are created for entertainment purposes (and in terms of sequels to make more money). Much like where weapons of defence can be used for offense, things created for entertainment can be used as “training” and/or rein acted –by morons with the social skills of a squirrel, but apparently all gamers have the social skills of Squirrels and can be brainwashed by violence at the drop of a hat, or acorn.

A few years ago when the latest GTA came out someone waiting for it stabbed someone who had the game already, shock and outrage ensued – what was often left out was that the person who got stabbed was being a cunt and mocking those who were still waiting in the line, the guy didn’t even steal the game off of him, just stabbed him because he was being a dickhead. Okay there’s a fine line that shouldn’t be crossed - although the guy most likely deserved a good hard thumb, stabbing was a little over the top.

At the end of the day, when the zombie invasion takes place, you are going to want the help of gamers who have spent hours removing the head and destroying the brain, but much like adding a kitten and blender together I'd question the guy rocking in the corner to maybe tone it back the laughing with glee a little.

Anger *Exclamation mark* (Lots of Swears)

Now this may or may not come as a shock to some but I'm not an angry person - no seriously - stop choking upon your tea and/or mountain dew (both major social markets now met, I can continue). Although I do enjoy imagining the slow and painful destruction of half my enemies and the dubious rape of the other half, but again I'm not an angry person, I might be sadistic and boarder line psychotic, but that’s beside the point, as  is that corpse in the corner and psychotic is pronounced QWERKY.

Anyway anger is good, no really it is although watching my inch shy of six foot, 16stone, built like a brick shit house father, going bat shit at the latest football results is more on the line of being scary then what I would call fun, but its better he go bat shit at that then take a very large block of wood to the back of the heads of his co-workers. *deep breath* Although I still wouldn't put it past the fellow, much like myself he sees the people above him as cunts who would count themselves intelligent if they could spread butter on bread, and those below him as trying to chop his heels off and use his body for a ladder.

Anger is useful in that it helps express a number of emotional and/or chemical changes in the body, such as seeing that twat who cost you fifty on “a sure thing”, how do you respond? Well with anger of cause the body burns with an amazing desire to do them harm or rather speak your mind. Speaking your mind being the preferred choice as it can be slightly less messy, unless they are an incestuous adulterer then by all means fill your rage hose with such and soak away - In truth as far as emotions go anger is the most useful it can protect oneself against being hurt by others, in creating walls of rage where they are clearly wrong and a twat and you are God, meanwhile the anger inside has almost no downside. No one has ever committed suicide due to anger, after all they are more likely to yell at the top of their lungs that you are a twat then self harm. 

(On a side bar though finding an empty area of people and yelling at the top of your lungs is very therapeutic, although hard to find said empty areas of people. If you’re lucky they’ll come across you and think you a crazy person and hurry away, if you’re not they’ll assume its rape and come guns blazing – then things get really awkward)

If you ask me – I know you didn't but I’ve started so I’ll damn well finish – there is nothing wrong with being angry, when faced with an impossible opponent it is always best to get angry, although I don’t necessarily mean physically unless the person is excreting cunt from the ear holes then by all means go bat shit upon their arse, might I suggest the nearby pub stool, or stick with nails in it. Expressing anger in say a non physically yet virtual way is best in my mind - by this I mean picking up the most 18 blood filled game, preferably zombie filled and clear out entire country worth’s of populace, and you can be as entirely racist as you like towards white people as is it me or are a lot of zombies white? I get how it must be hard to put the appropriate amount of artwork into them that and with Usan Bolt as an example you’d be lucky to chew on a black guy in a zombie apocalypse, but I'm encroaching on being told I'm being racist – again.

This is in direct contrast to the media’s point of view that violent video games will teach young children how to murder their fellow man, but seeing how this horse shit will be my next subject matter I’ll leave it at that.

In the end though, these forms of expressing anger are far better than the latter after all bringing down the walls with shouting is better than plastering with blood.

You're Growing up son

With the ever impeding quarter life crisis approaching, I am beginning to look back on my life, and can safely say: That much like watching a "lets play" on any game, I would be screaming at the screen If the entirety of my life flashed before my eyes. Okay its a fair bet that it would be a short flash, but undoubtedly it would be boring - the thing is though - during these flash backs in films and books etc...They only highlight the seemingly important things that happened to them in their lives, surely the saying "I saw my whole life flash before my eyes" would be all 365 and a bit days multiplied over a however many number of years being shown to them. Much like the damned being read every sin they committed for all eternity (see Through a scanner darkly for that reference), you'd either be bored without end with the feeling of listening to the same tireless joke over and over again.

I know that this would be my case, specifically as in my own said flash back there would be this section - me writing out a blog that may or may not be uploaded and tagged around the internet, wondering if the future and hopefully, very, very old me will find this somewhat entertaining, if not, sorry future me but I cant believe you let *enter name here* kill you with *enter object here* in *some location*.
The other out come is that I would be content with the things that I have done in my life, though feeling slightly Jipped that my reward for such contentment is sitting through a crappy film. However I guess killing all those hookers adds up eventually.

The point of all this is watching the world develop around me in a flash is better then experiencing it, such as watching mobile phones move from wallet thickness, down to mere a sheet of glass with no buttons that every fellow and their dog owns, technology has leaped and increased in leaps and bounds all over the place, I used to have to punch out of work by manually writing in my hours and hide in the stock room, now I've a hand scanner that rates me on how far off it is from the original -for me my Lowest score = 99, and highest score = 24 ... evidently I have changed over the years much like the world around me.

The thing is though I don't particularly wish to grow up, Id much rather be that short haired, glasses wearing kid, riding the coat tails of the pokemon crazy - before they became banned due to 'Bullying' nonsense. In hindsight, I should have stuck to those glasses, lost the hair cut and kept the cards (this is where I'd be yelling at the computer screen of my life) lose the bloody hair! No you fool not a Bellsprout collection are you mad!? Timmy don't go down that dark alley ... wait, wrong script. I would say that I'm not proud of some of my choices in life, but only through hindsight can I see that these weren't good ideas, In truth they may not have been the best but have undoubtedly shaped me into the person before you. A 6 foot, blue eyed, brown haired, lanky self centered ass who one day dreams of world domination, But I know world domination wont happen at the tip of a spear, nor pen (especially with my hand writing).

So it falls upon working hard, earning a decent living and lording dominion over my own little world, I suppose that is one of the perks to being Ignorant and means that although for some the world is never enough I'm quiet content with a Cornetto sized flake.

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Several Shades of Wank - Chapter one?

After a battle of words regarding the latest literal band wagon and being as erotic sounding as a school boy reading out a stories in a playboy magazine. I thought as a College boy I must be able to do better, and receive claim and mass injections of cash!!!

Warning Below is 18 rated material and should not be read by anyone under that age. The writing is ham fisted and the erotic side is lacking some so much it makes Meat Spin seem more arousing... But now that you've looked up meat spin, you will be nauseous enough to find anything sexy *winky face*
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Several Shades of Wank - Chapter one?

Lady Crow walked down her carpeted hallway, admiring all the paintings that plastered the lavishly red walls. Lady Crow was not her real name, she had forgotten that years ago - along with her original hair colour, but that didn't matter either. She was 28, still beautiful and in charge of a successful pleasure house surrounded by class and high society. The rich and expensive the paintings of oceans, sunsets, chaotic landscapes and portraits depicting increasingly erotic circumstance reminded her of her station as she drew ever closer to her bedroom. The Lady was the owner of an erotic establishment nestled in the English country side, although the work was hard the power always enthralled her and made the effort all the more sweet, coming from nothing and having to survive on her intellect and beauty she had come a long way from corner streets of London.

Although the scars of London were all but healed the accent still cursed her, but  tonight in her pleasure palace she was entertaining her best and favourite client: At the door he was Sir Doe, but within the four walls of her room he was merely John and they were Mr and Mrs Doe entwining their bodies more often than the sun rises, and tonight he promised her a surprise that she would never forget.

Gentle giggerling and rough voices came from either side of her, the stately home was old and thick walled, but her girls knew how to make them sing. Though her girls were younger and more agile than she was but she still commanded the attention of all of the patrons: Sweaty, wealthy men an woman all skipping out on husbands, wives and businesses trips just to indulge themselves in the pleasures of her house. Apple Court was an old stately home when it was first purchased by Mrs Doe, its secluded location made it perfect for her trade, in an area prestigious enough to attract the right customer and secluded enough to ensure no lenses pried. however in recent years times have been hard on the trade with restrictions being imposed and the illegality of it being a constant threat. Though it becomes less of a threat if you know the correct people in  power and know what they enjoy; An influential oil Barron enjoys whips and canes, whilst the health minister enjoys being at the receiving end of such instruments, the two "hit it off" almost immediately and photographic protection was used of cause. This was unnecessary as the two now meet monthly and have offered a number of payments for the building's maintenance and Mrs Doe did enjoy any money savers. 

Pausing before her door Mrs Doe looked upon the last portrait in her hallway was set apart from the rest and broke the chain of those before it; it showed the image of a man being shot by several men whilst holding an unpinned grenade. it was her favourite above all else.
"I'll pay back Double what is dealt on me" Mrs Doe said to the portrait as she entered her surprise.

Her room was dark and not a creature was stirring, except for her desires deep inside, Mrs Doe could smell Mr. Doe's scent on the air, an oak and lemon scent that moistened her lips, but her 'husband' was no where to be found. Only a note on the bedside table and underneath it a silk scarf was new. the note read: "My dearest Jane Doe, wear and wait. Love John. hmm.. that koi bastard", Jane lifted her red hair into a bun, and put on the soft silk scarf, covering her eyes and waited.

With one of her senses lost Jane became increasing enthralled by the scent of her lover, and the sounds around her. waiting for what seemed like an age Jane heard a door creak open and close softly.
"You took your time getting here" Jane stated impatiently,
There was no reply, only muffled foot steps moving closer, she was not bound yet Jane found it difficult to move only speak. "Well?"
He was in front of her now, so close that the warmth from his body seeped from him drawing her closer into his embrace, all sounds lost from the building, all she could hear was her heartbeat and breathing. A hungry mouth found her lips and an excited tongue did war inside her mouth. 
Then, then he stepped back from her and shushed her moans of protest. Her lover was circling her now like a shark who has just tasted the scent of blood, he was behind her now and unzipped her dress, it fell effortlessly to the floor at her feet leaving Jane naked, blind, and feeling vulnerable. In moments of the dress hitting the floor her round breast was in his hand and kissing along her neck, he sort to tease her, being gentle upon her neck whilst squeezing her erect nipples between his fingers. her breathing was becoming shorter as a hand left a breast leaving it feeling lonely and run a warm hand down her body, passing down her stomach and over her thighs stroking over her underwear. the hand began to rub between her legs sending shudders through her body and making her moist.
 She wanted him in her yet he would not move, her eyes still blind but she knew he was smiling relishing every moment, as he turned her and met her mouth once more. The touch of his fingers excited her further and he slowly put them down her pants and teased her lips, toying with them, moving from side to side and entering her slowly, but he was aroused now and she was picked up and moved to her bed, underwear removed in a flash, and his tongue was inside once more, but this time it was not her mouth that he strode in. his tongue sort only her clitoris, moving hungrily around seeking deeper and deeper as hands kept her body warm. Her body arched with each stroke of his hungry tongue and could do little to contain her moans, becoming louder and louder, she wanted in her now, her body yearned for him, legs turned to jelly at his touch and he was ready to she felt him leave her and felt the scarf being removed.

Before her was her man, John was breathing heavily, body wet from sweat and her juices, and he was hard she could see his erection twitching and calling to her as her body called to him. He turned her around rubbing his hands over her hoo-ha, parting her legs and using his hard penis to excite her further. finally he entered her and began to move back and forth entering a rhythm with her breathing, go deeper and further each time. The scarf came back, now around her neck and held from behind by her lover, it shortened her breath further but she was not scared it increased his grip on her and he entered hard now making her eyes roll and heart skip, the enjoyment was eye watering, her legs oozed her juices and his sweat entwined. There continued for what seemed like hours reaching a climax together Jane has not felt before, her back near split when she gasped the last of her passion out of her self and they collapsed on top of one another in a heap.

Their bodies still breathless and heaving John rolled her over to look into Jane's eyes, eyes of hazelnut met her, seeped in desire and lust. Time dripped past them as that lay amongst crumpled sheets and worn out springs. John was first to break the silence as her handed her the silk scarf.
"Put this somewhere safe my dear, for the next time" and he kissed her brow.
Jane rolled over him and reached for her bed side table, then John stopped her. 
"No, somewhere better then that, we wouldn't want someone else using it would we" 
His smile melted her and Jane nodded, slinking off the bed breasts bonding as she strode towards a painting on the wall, and moved it aside revealing her safe. It was an old thing but it was a bonus that came with the house so Jane could not complain and in this day and  age you could never be too careful. Warm hands cupped her breasts before the open door, the touch of him made her eager once more. He lead her back to the bed. He left the safe door open.

Goodbye Woody

 Deep down in the heart of Men's,
 A place of work, where colleges are friends,

 There was a girl, as bubbly as sin,
 She liked a laugh, and everything there-in
 So Becky will be missed, because she was kin
 As Men's is a family and will never forget.

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 She grabbed her whip and strode out the door, beating customers as she went for Becky was now free and could do as she wish. Gone is the fake curtsey to elbows and arsehole she is free to indulge in her  true career as a dominatrix along the Portsmouth (or Southampton) coast, feasting on knowledge and alcohol toasting her memories of the best place to work in the world, after all who doesn't like working on Men.
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  Becky woods, Becky woods, Becky Woods,
  I think I've embarrassed myself enough
  Goodbye, piece out and all that jazz.

  Stalk you later.

  *Winky face*

Just Don't Ask Me

If you ask a stupid question, then a stupid answer is what you'll get and coming from a town where the knuckles can be heard scrapping on the floor from the next town over. Many-a stupud question is asked of me, especially at work. Woo Back to form! - Well if you can call whining about work and customers form but still, what you see is what you get.

Another piece suggested by fellow co-workers amoungst an unstoppable tide of idioms (not all of which coming from me). So before I begin I had better get shooting myself in the foot out the way now before some smart arse decides to mention it the next time we're at the pub in front of something scrummy. Yes I'm talking to you Ben.

Like most things context is everything but what happened boils down to this: Good Friday is one of those delightful days known as a bank holiday and brilliant in that it is technically a day off - unless you work in retail, or a pub, or a supermark... is it really a bank holiday? banks are closed by 5 on Fridays anyway... Oh well... With pubs still being open, a pub dinner was suggested and being someone who enjoys beer, chicken and good company I said yes. However as this question was asked about 2 weeks before and lacking (common sense and) a calendar, I had to as the question "What day is Friday?"... Now you my think this a stupid question and out of context it is - though even in context its still pretty low brow. I'd like to justify myself here by saying that, I meant WHEN is good Friday?... in terms of, how far away from this specific date, but sigh, that day has gone and past and there are far better silly questions that get asked in an average day.

There's a difference between asking a silly question that makes you look like a tit Example A: above, and then there's those irritating questions that get repeated and asked near-every-single-day. These also have the same answer to them, which are just as irritating and feel like your dragging your brain behind you in a soggy sack through a cactus factory. (No i don't know where i was going with all these similies either).
Lets see if you can guess the questions they ask from my normal answers:


Check the price tag.
The price tags on the other side.
Where ever you found it.
Is the original price crossed out? then what do you think?
Not unless you lose about 10 stone.
Twat size.
Sure just let me put on my Indiana Johns outfit.
No, I just felt like wearing an all black, monogrammed shirt whilst folding shirts in an arbitary fashion.

And now for the Questions....

How much is this?

Where's the price of this?

Where are these?

Is everything on here reduced?

Does this fit me?

What size do you think I am?

Go check the back room for this?

Do you work here?

I'll just let you compare both Q&A and have a quick chuckle. As there is no doubt that you get customers who have, will and won't stop asking you these questions. However all kudos go to the question that gets asked at least four times a shift by every single member and is the one I gave the best witty remark to. Do you work here? This gets annoying fast on a long day as you both have to do that awkward little laugh as you'd both look pretty damn stupid if you didn't work there. It's a fair question to ask in places where there is no direct uniform, for example in times past my uniform at work used to be black shirt, tie and black trousers, so your kind of unsure if they work there. Especially if you approach someone from behind (giggity)  and they are wearing all black, it could be they're stopping off after a funeral - which may sound unlikely but they do not enjoy being asked where the tills are after a death in the family.

Now though we have monogrammed shirts, much like other stores, as well as lanyards  which say our names in big size 14 letters, yet people STILL ask if you work there. There is always the temptation in my head to give the very similar response to being asked "Are you awake?" at 1am - No, Now fuck off and bother someone else. 

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