Bill: "Monkey Semen is Fattening!"

Not since DeNiro and "Raging Bull" has an actor willingly gained so much weight for a movie.

"Monkey semen is fattening," gurgles Bill Hoobastank. "I just like to blow monkeys, especially if they look like one of the simians in 2001. I record my whole dull life, you know, with my digital camera AND my camcorder."

To Bill's delight, Pleasuredome Productions is hoping to market an edited (only 12 hours) movie of his various monkey blowjobs.

According to director Robin Virgin, "Whether all 2001 blowjobs will be featured, I'm not sure. It depends on the editing. Also, sometimes Bill took monkey dick up his ass, and while his anus can suck a dick, it's technically not a blowjob."

When asked how he thinks he can get away with using Stanley Kubrick's name, Robin said, "Oh, that's a kerfuffle. He's dead. When you're dead you have no rights. Come to think of it, when you're alive you don't have any rights either. I'll just add a disclaimer saying that I'm entitled to do anything I want. It's freedom of speech."

Does he really think he'll do well with a movie in which a fat stupid-faced New Jersey nerd sucks monkey dick for twelve hours?

"It will not chart! This film is a labour of love! The important thing is to have something to do. I don't have much to do beyond digitizing obscure records, taking my dog for walkies, and sitting on my fat ass all weekend hoping to catch an eel. So working on compiling all the best cumshots will be such a thrill for me. I'm very glad all Bill does is swallow and gurgle, because there's no way I could do subtitles and spell anything right!"

Robin admits his brain cells are eroding: "I bought a June Christy single, and on my blog I wrote that it was by JULIE Christy. Tee hee. I would never have known but a kindly person left me a nice comment. He also offered to send one of the eels I caught to a taxidermist, so I could use it as a dildo."

Robin and Bill have a lot of disposable income, so they didn't need to go on Kickstarter. "Hopefully the movie will be ready so that Bill can have his own table at the next Chiller memorabilia show, and charge people $20 to take a photo with him. Or, $40 to NOT take a photo and get by the table without him waving his sweaty armpits or blowing his bad breath at them."

Robin hopes to arrange a screening at The Bristol Lunatic Fringe. They seem to be willing to host most any ridiculous event. "Of course I'll charge admission. This is MY copyrighted film and MY hard work. I expect to be paid. Well, if people don't want to hand me a fiverrrrr, they can just shove a eight incherrrr up my ass. To paraphrase Frank Zappa (whose singles did not chart), it has to be eight inches or MORE.

"My asshole is simply too fat and worn out to feel anything smaller than eight inches going in. I used to keep a 45 rpm spindle up my ass, so it would always be handy when I switch from albums to singles. I once asked a friend, "Where should I keep my 45 rpm spindle," and he said, "Oh, shove it up your ass." Such a thoughtful fellow! But over the years, my asshole has widened. The 45 rpm spindle keeps falling out of my ass, out of my underwear, and it rolls along the floor till Muffin the dog chases after it and swallows it! So now, I keep the 45rpm spindle up Muffin's ass!"

At this point, Robin began to get too disgusting to quote.

The Basket-Case Birthday Disaster

"I admit it," Basket-Case says with a laugh, "my birthday concert was a disaster!"

"I think I just had some bad advice. This guy Bill Hoobastank, who was saying he could be my manager, told me I should play my set naked. He also said that since everybody plays guitar, I should play violin. But I can't play violin! People stared at me, that's for sure.

"What was worse, was that Bill, and his stinky little friend Shauna, couldn't stop laughing. They walked out on me, chuckling to themselves!"

"Then the results came in from Kickstarter, showing I'd barely gotten 25% of my goal!

"If I had any creativity, I would've started singing, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to,' but I was just stunned. I couldn't believe I wasn't indulged, AGAIN, by all my FANS and FRIENDS. I was so distracted I missed the violin and started fiddling the bow against my twat. It sounded like a cat puking. I shut off my microphone, and that's when I heard a 70 year-old geezer heckling me.

"He said, 'Look at this sparse crowd. It's worse than when I played Butlins!' It was Barry Gooker, the guy who killed all the nigga children when his Boko Harum group marauded through Africa years ago. Now, they can only play Butlins. And someplace in Finland.

"I was about to tell him off, but I figured he paid something to get in, so he was entitled to free music. I asked what he wanted to hear and he said, "Fisher's Obituary." I didn't know that one. I offered up a song I composed when I was in Canada, "Saska Tune." In Gooker's honor, I tossed in the opening melody from "Whiter Shade of Pale." The crowd called out for less. Gooker's face turned as pink as my shaved cunt, and he raged again about Fisher. Then he shouted "Go fuck yourself" at me.

"Well, give the customer what he wants. I stuck the bow between my legs and after a minute or two, handed it to Gooker, who happily licked it clean. He said, "Reminds me of some roast eel a fan named Robin Verge made for me. He buys all my singles that don't chart." It turned out Gary was brought to my show by my lovely friend from Bristol, Roland. He's another vainglorious egomaniac. He's a spindly school teacher whose face closely resembles an unshaven old twat.

"Unfortunately, I was made horribly aware of this, when he brought out my birthday cake. The egomaniac didn't write anything on the cake, he just had the baker put his picture on it instead!"

"It wasn't the best birthday I ever had, but I promise not to grow up, and that I'll keep right on nagging, showing off, and declaring music should be free as long as people pay for me to make CDs and tour. Do I sound a little crazy? I'm entitled! I'm a Millennial Bitch, and proud of it!!

"I'm going to take a week off because I got diarrhea from eating the cake. I've been shitting on the bus, on the train, in my dressing room, on my cat, and here, here, here and here! (Thanks, Roland!)"

Right; Dead Fred

What's bald, brown, and sounds like a bell?

GEOFF DUNGGGGG.

And now for something completely different. A little note about the Python's version of George Martin.

You can see him in the photo below. He's (yawn) one of the idiots in ugly drag.

I know, there are WAY too many misogynistic twits dressed up in drag for the photo. Python had this idea that the average British woman was unbearably ugly and shrill. In sketch after sketch, that's all you saw, except for Carol Cleveland once in a while, usually stripped to her bra, stockings, knickers and suspender belt, mincing down the beach in distress.

The guy in front of Eric (the half a pain in the ass) Idle is a "Fred Tomlinson." In fact, he is THE "Fred Tomlinson," since there's nobody else by that name who has any kind of fame at all. Which is that he was behind the scenes on various British TV shows, in a George Martin type of way.

WHAT the FUCK is he famous for? Well, near as I can tell (and I'm an ocean away), he was basically a music arranger. If you had some stupid music and wanted to make it funnier, you asked Fred to step in. Or step in it. Dad's Army. Two Ronnies. Monty Python.

Apparently, the same way George Martin turned the otherwise boring "Mr. Kite" into a stunningly weird tour-de-force, the right said Fred added color and craziness to "The Lumberjack Song" and "Spam."

IF you can STAND listening to either of those again, you'll note that instead of being simple stupid tunes (like "Eric the Half a Bee") they have a cartoonish sense of orchestration to them, suggesting the educated nuance of a classically trained musician.

"The Lumberjack Song" builds with a dramatic introduction, just like something out of Gilbert & Sullivan. After grandly talking about wanting to be a lumberjack, there's a sudden shift as the counterpoint chorus offers silly harmony. Palin's cheerful transvestite sings a heroic melody, always ending with a reprise of the idiotic chorus, which becomes more disgusted as the song moves along. In true Gilbert & Sullivan fashion, the heroine finally emotes. Well, one horrified line.

I recall Carol talking about how carefully she had to "wait for it," and get it right each time they did it live (over, and over, and over again at various "farewell" shows).

If you bother to deconstruct it, "The Lumberjack Song" is indeed some mini-opera, with solo and chorus, and couldn't have been put together without an expert conductor/arranger.

As for "Spam," that's another variation, as the waitress's disgusting recitation cues another jolly chorus.

Is it any wonder that "The Lumberjack Song" and "Spam" are probably the two most famous Python songs? What a coincidence that both involved Tomlinson, who dramatised them and who knows, maybe even added a line or polished up the melody.

Ego being what it is, the Pythons tended to make it seem like they did everything. But no, they didn't produce their show and now and then others made solid contributions. If you check the song credits on the record label (remember record labels??) there is that mysterious OTHER name added: "TOMLINSON."

So a salute goes to dead Fred, who grew up in an era where musicians got paid, nobody whined on the Internet "give me money so I can do something," and performers didn't delude themselves that they were still relevant because a few escaped Nazis in Finland or Holland gathered around to drink beer and say "Shine On" as they listened to a set list as boring and flavorless as a 1945 can of Army surplus c-rations.

Shining a Light on the Lumen Louses

A Nazi can decide to be a Fascist. Or vice versa.

So it is that the deliberately cold and bullying "Chilling Effects" website decided to hide behind a less threatening name, changing it to "Lumen."

Heh heh. Get it? They shine a light on anyone who DARES to stand up for copyright. This is slightly less obvious than trying to scare them with "Chilling Effects." As in, "If you sent in a DMCA, we will tell the world who you are, and your blood will run cold when the hackers come after you, ha ha."

In the real world, confidentiality is respected. The cops will act on your complaint and send a patrol car to the loudmouth blasting music at 2am. They WON'T log this on their website telling the world it was YOU that made the call, so that the loudmouth can find you and beat on you.

Google, Nazi Fascists that they are, have made sure that anything removed from their beloved GooTube is duly noted. The post stays up so that disappointed people expecting to hear a song FREE, get a "sad face" emoji and a notice saying "We removed content by order of..." and say exactly WHO made them pull the plug.

Likewise, any takedown request Google receives, ordering them to remove something from one of their blogs or from their search engine, is instantly hoisted to "Lumen." That way the nasty network of obnoxious faggots in Fawkes masks can see who "ruined the fun" and, heh heh, plot revenge.

Oh, what FUN it is when a copyright owner, not even breaking even when he spends 20 minutes jumping through Google hoops, not making a cent on what the "sharer" and Google made, not getting back a penny of what was lost, suddenly gets an e-mail: "We will harass you till you have a heart attack."

This, followed by a sudden barrage of telemarketer calls to the phone number Google insisted on having (and posting). This, followed by junk mail and other snotty games sent to the address Google insisted on having (and posting). And on and on.

Happily, ONE rights organization is turning the tables and have set up their own version of "Lumen."

It's been said that the wheels of justice grind slowly. Oh, so slowly. But as we see from the demise (for the moment) of Kickass and Megaupload, among others, it IS possible to get a website shut down, and it IS possible to prosecute some prick who has made a fortune off somebody else's creative work.

It's possible that one day the movie companies, TV networks and record labels will combine to tell politicians, "We are not going to let robotic parasites like Google steal our work. Either strengthen the laws so we can take down websites, block rogue ISP's and prosecute assholes, or all you'll get from us is shitty "reality" shows, garbage boy band and rap garbage, and full length cartoons."

Kickstarter Asshole (not Muslim) Kills THREE

Privileged psycho-brats DO act up. We forget, thanks to all the psycho-Muslims, that Millennials ARE a threat. Like THIS fuckhead with a Russian name and shit for brains.

Like the pose? Mr. Alienation ala Calvin Klein. The fuckhead thought he was auditioning for a cologne ad? What's your problem, Sourball? You can't afford more than a few pair of $50 designer underpants? Mum and Dad are paying your tuition but won't give you a Mercedes? You're no longer champ at Grand Theft Auto 5 because a clever Gook down the street managed to kill more hookers?

THIS asshole can join the list of Millennial murdering morons, which includes:

The white jerk with a comic-book fetish dressed up and machine-gunned people in a movie theater, and one of those genius-Gooks went on a rampage and murdered fellow students, and the two Columbine malcontent morons who took out classmates. And on and on.

This latest example, a shooting at a party in oh-so-kewl Seattle, would've hardly been worth mentioning except for a little tidbit tucked deep into the paragraphs. The one about KICKSTARTER.

Yep, this asshole raised over $90,000 on Kickstarter for some stupid computer thing or other.

Mr. Russian Geekboy was even working at the "GENIUS BAR" at an Apple Store, which is a damn good place to impress twats who can't figure how to hoist their shaved cunt pix to Tumblr.

This ingrate had a successful Kickstarter campaign.

Fact is, a lot of Kickstarter cretins get funded because affluent Millennials give them the money that they DON'T spend on CDs and DVDs and books.

"Oh, here, DUUUUUUUDE, go make a laser game, go create glow-in-the-dark underpants, go print up a guide to Game of Toilets or Harry Potter...THAT shit is important. A CD from a new singer-songwriter should be given away, or downloaded off a pirate torrent site FREE."

The amazing thing about Millennials like this, is that they are so fucked up by "reality shows" and special effects movies and bad music, they think they're living a game. This asshole decided to get a gun and play the part of MAD AVENGER, and go destroy not only some twat who was sick of him, but two duuuuuuudes as well.

The only surprise is that he ran away and didn't shoot himself in the fucking head, as most of them do. Maybe he read that Hinckley is finally back home with Mommy, so HE will get a pass in a year or two.

What have we learned?

That if you're not a Basket-Case singer-songwriter, but a Basket Case nerd, you can make a LOT of money on Kickstarter. Just choose an idiotic subject that appeals to other useless nerds, fools, jerks, spastics, autistics, jackasses, inbred freaks and misshapen ethnic excrescence. If that's not enough for you, then follow the lead of other Millennial morons and get yer 15 minutes of fame by shooting unarmed people.

Too bad nobody's gonna learn from this and do what should be done: ban assault weapons, demand background checks on anyone buying a gun, demand a WRITTEN LETTER explaining why the person wants a gun, and...oh yes...pull the fucking plug on Kickstarter.

"And in 25 Minutes, I'll Be In Hell..."

Shel Silverstein was a great writer. Johnny Cash was a great singer.

Basket-Case Gritt-Whore is NOT.

And so the minutes count down.

What's going on in Bristol, home of spindly egotists?

Does somebody have a tablet open and is checking on the totals, while the great Basket-Case strums another numb, forgettable tune?

A cunt like her is bound to have a wry smile, a coy shrug, and an attitude like water off a duck's back or shit through a goose. Oh well. So what. Nothing's gonna change MY world.

Her overdeveloped SENSE OF SELF, which already has put her in front of people who are quite indulgent and easy to please, is not going to be damaged by a mere "setback."

She'll probably go right back to Dickstarter and declare that maybe she can get her project done for, oh, HALF the amount she originally planned on.

PS, it's interesting to note that even with the frightful departure from the EU, the price of the pound against the dollar is just about what it always was!

"I got 24 minutes to go..."

"...come on SOMETHING..."

"I can hear the buzzards...hear the crows...four more minutes to go..."

Come on everyone, INDULGE HER. Feed her ENTITLEMENT. Don't let the reality of being a chalk-faced nobody in the middle of nowhere get her down.

What? You're not listening??

You MIGHT think you have BETTER uses or your money, just 'cause she pays to be on iTunes, just 'cause she has OTHERS pay, just 'cause she hasn't performed anywhere beyond her comfort zone??

Aw, that's no reason to ruffle her scarves or sound a sour note of reality on her guitar string. Or pull her tampon string and tell her she's bloody ridiculous.

Wait, a last minute miracle...NO?

"...and now I'm swingin' and here I go....."

Another entry in the "Finish a Daily Fail Headline" contest

Jew gotta be kidding, Ebay Sock-Stink Fag Moron

"SOCK IT TO ME" is the unofficial faggot slogan of EBAY.

EBAY, the biggest fencer of stolen goods in the world, has a farty side-business as the biggest sex-for-pay website this side of Craigslist.

I say FARTY, because so much of it involves STINK. Shit-stained skivvies. Piss-Sweat smelly socks. And, of course, twat-reek panties. Faggots seem to be especially drawn to SOCKS. Take THIS Jew moron.

Note to Roger Waters:

While this blog frowns on your antisemitism, Acromegaly Face, it does not, for a minute, suggest that there's no reason to hate Jews. Like Muslims, and most any ethnic group, they have unique, stereotypical and annoying traits.

Jews are cheap and sneaky. Not all. Let's just say the same proportion as homicidal Muslims or stupid blacks.

THIS guy expects faggots from around the world to buy his stinky socks? What a delusional Jew. He'd be lucky if a Palestinian doesn't buy just to find out where he lives and put a ham up his ass.

The sneaky Jew isn't just selling stinky socks for a mere $6 buy it now. He wants to sell (off eBay of course, in a private deal) photos and videos of himself:

It's a good thing that EBAY loves despicable idiocy, and clings to their "we're JUST A VENUE" defense, so that they don't have to actually be moral or ethical and police their own site. At best, they allow people to "report this auction" and, maybe, remove an item that they think might get them bad publicity.

Compare EBAY to bullshit idiot asshole fart-brain sites like the London Daily Mail and the Grimsby Telegraph. Those two sites actually pay some fucko to monitor COMMENTS.

Believe that? "Freedom of Speech" worries newspapers that depend on FREEDOM OF SPEECH. They're concerned enough to make sure that nobody can say "Kim Kuntrashian has a big fat ugly ass" or "Grimsby is a craphouse." Yet EBAY doesn't have anyone monitoring auctions that have "pre owned panties" or "used underwear" or "gay interest" in them. Maybe their JEW LAWYERS told 'em they could get away with it.

Roger, being a REALIST is to admit that all men are NOT equal.

It's being a REALIST not a RACIST to say the truth: the English were cooking exotic meals in stoves at a time when some Africans were cooking white men in a pot. Mmm, that Michael Rockefeller sure tasted good!

Racism is when you deny that people CAN be equal. It's possible for an African to be a brain surgeon. It's possible for a Chinese to have a big dick. It's possible for a Swede to buy a copyrighted CD. It's possible for a Jew to look like Lauren Bacall or Kirk Douglas. It's even possible for a member of Pink Floyd not to be an obnoxious asshole.

Record Store Loves Assassin Hinckley

The good news? There's a record store actually still in business.

The bad news? It's run by a fat, ugly tattooed twat who loves stinky John Hinckley Jr., the crazy assassin.

The Stinky Hinckley story just gets sicker and sicker, doesn't it?

Think of all the time and money WASTED on this pudgy cocksucker. His mommy is filthy rich, she's most certainly been paying off everyone she can, and skating him away from real jail to a cushy hospital wasn't enough.

She orchestrated time-outs for him to come home to her, while burdening the government with psychiatric exams, monitoring equipment and paying guards to ferry the bastard around and keep an eye on him. And now? Now that he'll be home in a "gated community," the government will be spending MILLIONS OF DOLLARS on this asshole, the FBI and CIA still having to keep him under surveillance.

Meanwhile, Jodie Foster and a lot of others, including this fat moron's neighbors, will have to worry that he might still have enough testosterone to go berserk.

The spin-happy press found Fatso McVinyl to giddily declare how much FUN her pal Hinckley is. He always BUYS something. He's the Lord of the Trying to Kill a President Sale. As long as he lumbers in and BUYS something, he's a real peach.

World's Most Overrated Band Gets A Wretchedly Excessive Box Set

Thanks for the warning...

At least this particular news story was sane enough to mention that the 27 disc set is for "hardcore" fans. Duh. Who ELSE would want this shit?

Put it this way, could the average person point out the four guys in the photo? NO. They could tell you all the Beatles or the Stones. They could probably point out Ray Davies in a Kinks photo at least. I think the percentage who could point out which one is Roger Waters would be very, very low.

This awful box of waste covers the group only through 1972? Jesus Fucking Christ, do they really think they have, what, about 24 hours of a legacy for their work in less than a decade? In less time than The Beatles were a group? That's a lot of nerve, even for "hardcore" fans.

Let's remember that 27 hours of Beatles outtakes would be way too much.

IF I'M BEING HONEST, even before it became The Roger Waters Nazi Preservation Society Band, Pink Floyd was nothing much. As I slogged my way through progrock slop, the ONLY album of theirs I bought, which I probably got in a dollar bin, was "Atom Heart Mother."

Who can name their hit singles? ANYONE?

The average person, inundated with THE WALL, THE WALL, THE WALL, THE WALL...would be hard pressed to name any pressing besides that fucking bore DARK SIDE OF THE MOON. And that's not a hit single. That's a tedious album that happened to arrive when people were taking drugs and listening to tedious albums.

Let's talk HIT SINGLES, like their contemporaries, The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Kinks, or even Boko Harum and Jethro Dull. Boko at least had the mammoth "Pale" and Dull had "Aqualung." And Stink Floyd had????

A quick glance shows one Top Ten single that almost nobody could sing along to, "See Emily Play." Then there's the Top Twenty "Arnold Layne," which sort of matches up to The Who's "Pictures of Lily" as a somewhat obscure and offbeat song hipsters could snicker about.

Compare that with the amount of singles from The Kinks, and The Kinks haven't burdened the world with a 27 disc set. What gall.

The two hit songs were by Syd Barrett, who probably is unknown to the average rock fan (as opposed to the "hardcore" Pink Floyd fan). Thanks to all the years without Syd, and with tedious progrock excess, thinks of the band as being fronted by Gilmour and Waters, with nobody else mattering much.

It seems that the other two songs that Pink Floyd got a lot of airplay for, were written by Mr. Acromegaly-Face himself, and released AFTER 1972: "Money" in 1973 and the God-awful "Brick" in 1979.

So, to sum it up, this is a 27-disc-set from an overrated group that had exactly FOUR songs in the Top Ten, which places them well below Herman's Hermits.

So we have a freak show for "hardcore fans," who are looked on as brain-damaged enough to spend all the money they make selling drugs or fixing toilets on their FAVORITE BAND.

The consolation that Pink Floyd is, like The Grateful Dead, a cash cow for meat heads, is that the normal surviving members of the band will get something out of it. Hopefully Roger will not hog (or pig float) the entire event, and the others will get some interview time and some decent royalty checks.

Merry Christmas, FOOLS. It's packaging like this that make record industry insiders cynical about the mentality of rock fans.

Hey, Roger Waters: Your Palestinians HATE ENGLAND

Somebody try and pry Roger Waters' head out of his ass.

He needs to read a column in the New York Post.

It's about what went on at the "ARAB LEAGUE" summit.

Abbas, the leader of Roger's beloved Palesteeeeeeeenians, wants to SUE GREAT BRITAIN.

Read on, ROGER.

It seems that your grandparents believed that Palestine belonged to THE JEWS.

Maybe it's because The Bible says so. Maybe it's because Jesus was a Jew and he lived in Israel, and this was long before there were obnoxious Muslim assholes claiming THEY owned the land.

Here you are, Roger:

So tell me, Acromegaly-Face, you old skeleton, what's your answer to this? Do you want to keep being a moron, and keep flying your pig balloons, and keep wearing your Nazi leather regalia, or do you want to stop hating Jews and understand the history of The Holy Land?

NBC's Spin: Muslim Ingrates Hate Bill Clinton

I did see Bill Clinton's nearly hour-long speech at the DNC.

His goal was to show that his wife Hillary has spent her life caring about others. Indeed, the woman had a "Peace Corps mentality" (my phrase). She was one of those do-gooders who'd use her summer vacation to tutor the poor, go down South and march, and volunteer for charity.

While Donald Trump (and most everyone else) was busy being selfish, Hillary was giving her time, postponing her own chosen profession (being a lawyer) and ultimately switching from a high-paying job to working as a teacher in Arkansas!

In Bill's re-telling of Hillary's life story, she was an altruistic socially-conscious college chick who wasn't into sex (especially with HIM), and had ZERO political ambition. When she finally married him, she was still spending most of her time on volunteer work. She did work to get Bill elected, and council him when he was tossed out of office after one term as governor. He bounced back to get re-elected and moved on to the Presidency. Hillary STILL had no great ambitions (according to Bill). After the Clintons moved to New York so Bill could start his charity company, Hillary was asked to run for Senator. Bill insists she was ASKED, and didn't ambitiously put herself out as a candidate. She won. She then became Secretary of State (again, Bill insists Obama kept asking, and it wasn't a conciliatory prize for the way she good-heartedly campaigned for Obama after he edged her in the primaries).

NOW, Bill declared, it would be a great time to unite behind Hillary, who worked with Republicans very well, and is no bigot and loves EVERYONE...gays...Latinos...

People cheered when the folksy ex-President included MUSLIMS.

So what did MUSLIMS do?

THEY GOT OFFENDED.

At least, that's what NBC is reporting. This blog DOES report on examples of "media spin," and this seems a prime example.

NBC may have created a story by selectively slanting one. Using TWATTER as their main source for research, they claim that Muslims hated Clinton's speech. Did they count how many TWATTER remarks were for or against Hillary? Or take into account that TWATTER is mainly a place for idiots to complain? Never mind, here's the Muslims grousing about how Hillary and Bill welcome them:

Here's NBC painting Muslims as a bunch of falafel-brained ingrates who can't even take a fucking compliment.

Isn't NBC guilty of adding to racial tensions with a piece like this? All it does is create resentment from most anyone who isn't a fucking Muslim.

Aww, why are Muslims always mentioned in regard to terror? BECAUSE THE TERRORISTS ARE MUSLIMS.

Aww, why are Muslims only mentioned once in Clinton's speech? How about Israel not mentioned at all?

And so it goes.

To every season, SPIN, SPIN...

Is it a surprise that people turn to an infantile bully like Trump? Trump says "Ban Muslims from entering the country. Kick out the ones who can't be trusted." And maybe, boot the ingrates who were "offended" by a warm, smiling, conciliatory nod from Bill Clinton.

Murky Merkel and the Dark Days of Germany

"Winter for Merkel and Germany..."

Yes, the catch-phrase of derision is "MERKELSOMMER," but it WILL get worse.

The psycho sand-niggas will rage when the weather turns cold, feel ENTITLED to fur coats and any home with a fireplace, and go totally berserk when infidels DARE put up Christmas decorations.

After all, Allah decreed that when they soiled their sandboxes in the Middle East, the Muslims have EVERY right to plunder and push their way throughout Europe and take it over.

How lovely of Angela Lansbury-faced Angela Merkel to play "Murder She Wrote" with Germany, by actively encouraging a MILLION MUSLIM MORONS to march in.

Or was the old bat simply figuring, "Better to pretend they are invited than be helpless to stop them at the borders."

Meanwhile, in one week, four deathly incidents in Germany (that's 4-1 over France, where two Muslim teenagers killed an old priest).

Pudgy Angie finally deigned to comment on the week long murder spree, insisting “I have the feeling that I am acting responsibly and correctly, and no other feelings.”

Huh? She doesn't feel guilty. She doesn't feel like she's destroying the culture of Germany. Within ONE generation, most Germans will be speaking Arabic, cloaking themselves from head to toe, and tearing down their historic churches for bulb-shaped mosques. Rape will be excused as "Islamic religious observance."

As you'd expect, Strudel-face offers token blabber about justice for the victims: "We will do everything to clear up the barbaric acts, find the people behind them and punish them." This, while insisting only a small number are troublemakers and the vast amount of refugees are sweeties.

Yeah, Angie, look around. All the acts of terror come from one group of religious fanatics, and YOU invited a MILLION of them into your country. This, when your country has enough trouble caring for its own.

She selectively mentioned TWO of the FOUR terror attacks last week:

“That two men who came to us as refugees are responsible for the acts in Wuerzburg and Ansbach mocks the country that took them in...and it mocks the many other refugees who really seek help against violence and war.”

That's about as feeble as a kitten mewing after a dog galloped by and snatched it from its mother.

More:

"“I didn’t say 11 months ago that it would be an easy thing we could manage in passing, otherwise I wouldn’t have had to say that sentence. But I am, today as I was then, convinced that we will manage to do justice to our historic task … we will also deal with the new challenge we now face, Islamist terror.”

If she'd shut the borders she wouldn't have had to deal with ISLAMIST TERROR at all. What's the up side to all this, Angie? That you now have a lot of people who know how to make hummus?

BACK TO THE BLACKBOARD, CUNTWELL

"Does anyone realize I pay to play?"

Shauna giggles. "It seems impressive that I'm on iTunes, but ANYBODY can be on iTunes. Just PAY UP."

Indeed. CD (Cuntwell Duping) Baby tells everyone how it's done:

It varies only slightly from each of the companies that "agent" material to iTunes or Amazon or Spotify.

Consider that nobody knows who Shauna is. That the artist gets only a few pennies per iTunes sale, and only a few pennies per THOUSAND streaming hits. Most don't even make back the money they PAID to be played on Spotify or to be sold on iTunes or Amazon.

Isn't it ironic that the very people who scoffed that the record labels and managers of old "cheated" the talent, are STILL being cheated? That the low royalties are even LOWER?

Shauna rented a school room so she could use their blackboard and try and map out her future.

She tried to figure out how many GUYYYSSS it would take to BUYYYYYY her songs on iTunes or create enough "hits" on GooTube to get her even enough money to pay for her twat shaving cream and razors.

Eventually her eyes crossed and she fell over, issuing a gasp that could've used autotune.

BASKET-CASE THROWS A PARTY FOR HERSELF

Oh, how she'll make excuses.

She thought her Kickstarter campaign, ending on her birthday, would be a celebration?

FAIL!

Don't worry, she'll be smug and upbeat and know-it-all. She'll tell the "crowd" (her friends and indulgent relatives) that she'll be going places, even with an ordinary voice and boring face.

Well, yes, she'll be going places. After the show, she'll be going to the ladies room to wring out her piss and sweat-stained knickers. She'll go to the drug store for fresh tampons. She'll take a bus to a bus to a train and take the scenic way home, as she stares at all those cool street art "murals" done on public property by Bristol's fabulous Banksy.

Banksy is Bristol's favorite son, becoming famous by imposing on everyone, and creating so much hype people forget that behind it is NO TALENT.

Basket-Case will continue to impress her small circle of friends by having a website (wow), items on GooTube (gee, how many can do THAT) and a "tour" of a few gigs in obscure local bars. The tour, a few dates a month, will end when her small fircle of friends get tired of hearing her twee voice, seeing her rat-like one-expression face, and being hustled for over-priced drinks and soggy crisps.

Eventually she'll get knocked up and say she gave up a lucrative career to spawn half-breed Muslims with her husband, Ollie Hugh Akbar.

Meanwhile, her website has a blurb about her upcoming birthday show.

And let's sample one of her many, many, pompous blog entries in which she explains the music industry and how she knows EXACTLY how to become a star: going on Kickstarter constantly, flogging social media, and promoting iTunes and Spotify and other places that, UNLIKE THE EVIL RECORD INDUSTRY OF OLD, doesn't take 90% of the profits and pay a shitty little royalty.

British Undie-Buddies of Ebay

You say you can't get to Pleasuredome every weekend?

You say you are a fat dullard named Robin Virgin and can only pay for sex, the same way you pay for boring fishing trips and boot sale 45's "that did not chart"?

Ah, welcome to EBAY, the International Lonelyhearts Club swap and pimp site.

Here's a Brit who sells jock straps and briefs and (against eBay rules) models them just in case you don't know how to wear them.

Oh, HE doesn't seem to know how to wear them either.

Heh heh. The point, Guyyyyyysss, is that clowns like this seem to want international undie-buddies for phone sex, sexting, or mailing the kind of pix that would've even nauseated Jimmy Savile.

Why confine your homosexual perversions to the UK eBay site when you can inflict them all over the world?

It's pretty obvious that these guyyyyysss aren't just selling underwear, which anyone can buy in any local store. Most guys don't even BUY underwear more than once every five years.

No, what seems to be for sale is the SELLER, ready to indulge whatever a fat LARD OF THE FRUIT SALE like Robin Virgin is willing to pay for.

Here's another jerk who thinks nobody knows what underwear looks like, and needs to be modeled...by somebody who isn't even in good shape.

No mannequin? You can't just put the item on a table and photograph it? Of course not. Not if you're really using eBay as CRAIGSLIST.

This particular asshole even chides and tweaks eBay, telling them not to get THEIR knickers in a twist.

Assuming you're ultra cheap or ultra shy and you DO want to shop for underwear online, the last thing you want, when you're checking eBay for a pack of stolen underwear being fenced at half price, is an ad like THIS. Some slob in stained scivvies offering to sell you the rag off his crotch:

Shine On! After you buy, you MIGHT be invited to a party in Finland, where Boko Harum's lead singer Barry Gooker will model his favorite Chinese kimono, and his shower buddy Roland will wear nothing but a beret. And you can stick your dick HERE and HERE, and turn a whiter shade of pale.

ROR! Vely Illitating!

Ah. We car dis, a bit of the hail of the dog that bitch you.

Lotten ruck, onry one pushy clazy ethnic lace to brame!

The Crazy Chick Stays, The Crazy Guy Is Set Free

It's been an interesting week for high-profile American criminals.

Leslie Van Houten was denied parole.

John Hinckley is being set free.

What did Leslie do? She was a screwed up teenager from a broken home who ended up fried on LSD and brainwashed by the Manson cult. She joined them on a drug-fueled ritual murder. One trial ended in a hung jury, but finally she was sentenced to seven years-to-life. It's been her life. She's in her 60's. She's been a model prisoner, a parole board set her free, but Gov. Jerry Brown denied clemency and overruled the board.

What did Hinckley do?

Horny for Jodie Foster, he thought he'd "impress" her by KILLING THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

He threw the country into chaos and nearly did assassinate the most important man in the world. Reagan recovered, but a top aide, Jim Brady, was shot in the head. He was crippled for life, reduced to a tearful shell of his former self, mildly comforted that "The Brady Bill" and other measures for gun control were being pushed in his name. Right, notice how easy it is to get an ASSAULT RIFLE in America.

Hinckley, unlike Van Houten, was sent to a mental hospital.

While Reagan, Brady and even Jodie Foster were never the same, the gunman was pampered, given privileges, and eventually allowed to go home to mommy on weekends. And now, this man is being set free.

A judge is convinced Hinckley is not a threat; he won't go bonkers. He's cured.

A governor isn't convinced about Van Houten despite over 40 years of a perfect record in jail.

GET YOURS TODAY...on EBAY

Flower Power or Little Shop of Horrors?

"So, Grandpa, what WAS this thing called FLOWER POWER? Are you going on this CRUISE?"

"No, CHESHIRE, I am NOT going on that cruise. I'm as anti-social NOW as I was THEN. IF I'M BEING HONEST, "Flower Power" was just a commercial phrase created to sell shit. Oh, and to maybe get laid. It wasn't a real political movement or philosophy. Go watch "I Love You Alice B. Toklas" starring Peter Sellers. That film was about a guy fascinated by a fad.

Selers played a neurotic idiot trying to fuck a hippie chick. "Flower power" was what stupid hippie chicks believed in and guys went along if there was a possibility of "Free Love." Which, usually, there was not. So guys spent a lot of time touching bra straps and listening to "flower power" bullshit, whether it was off a Rod McKuen book or a Majarishi pamphlet or Kahlil Gibran or Desiderata record album, only to be rebuffed in mid-erection with some inane idea like "Let me put this avocado pit in some water and maybe it'll start sprouting in a week..."

Right, the fucking "Summer of Love" that George Harrison detested.

Yes, Georgie and his pals were partly responsible, since "Yellow Submarine" (the cartoon movie) was loaded with flowers blooming. But it was the lesser assholes like The Lovin' Spoonful and Fifth Dimension and Spanky & Our Gang that showed off the dopey gear. "Flower Power" was mostly about hair spray and silly clothing aimed mostly at TEENAGERS.

SPANKY AND OUR GANG was on the covers of many teen mags of the day.

For some reason, I remember these clowns as among the most popular "Flower Power" idiots. First off, they had such mindless songs as "Lazy Day," and they even put on pseudo-choir white smocks for "Give A Damn." They were "safe" and family friendly, so they were on all the variety shows.

The Mamas and Papas were a little more dangerous. While Mama Cass made the band a joke, but Michelle was skinny and slutty. She wore jeans. And didn't she fuck BOTH Denny and Papa John? That "California Dreaming" thing was a little too creepy to really be "Flower Power."

"Flower Power" was the sanitized drug world as put together by ad agencies and "The Ed Sullivan Show." When jerks like The Byrds turned up on Ed's show, they'd wear the tinted granny glasses, and maybe colorful shirts with puffy sleeves. That kind of shit. 16 year-old girls were told to buy rose-scented douche. Meanwhile John Lennon very quickly groused, "OK, Flower Power didn't work, we'll try something else."

"Flower Power" was what...idiots slogging around in the mud at Woodstock? Trying to impress a chick by handing her some daisies? Annoying cops and teachers with a peace symbol and an apple? "Here...I'm non violent. I'm Mr. Natural. I use Herbal Essence Shampoo from Clairol!"

Watta crock. It was a novelty. It was a fad. It was about buying apple wine and garish shirts and dopey sunglasses. It was about combing your hair so you looked like a mushroom. It was about pretending to like "Mellow Yellow" and "Up Up and Away."

Now it's STILL being used for commercial purposes. It's being used to get morons to spend thousands of dollars to go on a hipper version of a Carnival Cruise. Come on, who is falling for that, except the same lamebrains who DID buy bell-bottom jeans, incense and peppermints, and flowery shirts with giant collars.

No, the "Flower Power" cruise acts are mostly just mild psych bands. There was nothing sweet or sunshiny about Vanilla Fudge, fer Chrissake. They were a depressed, alienated bunch of Long Island clods. One album interspersed those silly putty drawn out pseudo-soul things ("Ticket to Ride" for about 12 minutes) with creepy kiddie nursery rhyme organ music. Right, blame it on childhood.

"Three Dog Night" and "The Monkees" and Chad and Jeremy and most of the others were just pop variations on The Beatles. "Oh, aren't they CUTE and HARMLESS." Chad and Jeremy turned up on "The Dick Van Dyke Show" as sort of half-the-Beatles, trying to hide from screaming teen fans. Teen girls. Ones being sold flowered knickers and scented douche.

Why have nostalgia for that nonsense? Better to hide any photo where you were trying to be Chad or Jeremy or Peter Noone (or, for the girls, Lord knows, Nancy Sinatra or Lesley Gore or whoever else was on "Shindig" and "Hullabaloo.") Later, the idea was to be Sonny or Cher. Comb your hair down like Sonny and put on a fuzzy vest, and bell bottoms, and you might impress a laconic gypsy-Indian twig. Maybe. Probably not. No, definitely not, and don't ask me how I know.

I prefer, when it comes to "Flower Power," the man-eating plant of "Little Shop of Horrors." First off, that original movie came out during the beatnik era. The musical referenced 1962 approximately, and most definitely was more inspired by doo-wop music and maybe Petula Clark's "Downtown" than anything after. A plant that swallows up gullible morons; definitely my idea of Flower Power.

If Lennon was around he'd scoff at idiotic "Flower Power" cruises and such blatant rip-off cash-in nostalgia. Put it this way, I think Jimmy Webb actually wrote some very good songs, even if some of them are a bit dated. But "Up Up and Away" is NOT one of them.

Here's To You, Fuzzy Muzzie - Using FACEBOOK to KILL

I'm sure Kipling would've expressed his admiration.

"Here's to you, Fuzzy Muzzie...like an artist with his easel,
You're outnumbered for the moment, but a first-class sneaky weasel!"

Clever, the kid who got a fake FARCEBOOK account, pretended to be a young Turkish girl, and lured people to that McDonalds where they were shot down by another cowardly Muzzie.

Oooh, are they gonna slap THIS kid's wrist. He might even go to jail for a few hours.

Muslims are cowards. They only go after unarmed people. So the McDonalds Nine didn't exactly have a chance. Imagine, some may have taken a bus to a train to a bus, just to meet a nice girl interested in gathering like-minded fast-food friends together for a party.

"As long as it's not too expensive," the "girl" declared, she'd TREAT everyone. Heh heh.

In reality, Muslims don't like McDonalds, because McDonalds doesn't serve goat 'n' hummus. Soon, they will. Merkel let over A MILLION of these sub-human ingrate mongrels into her country, most of them young and sex-hungry males. It won't be long before Germans see a new MASTER RACE. PS, Germans, no concentration camps for YOU. You'll all get beheaded instead, to the shouts of ALLAH AKBAR.

BLIMEY, what a REALISTIC BINT

IT'S A...TATOONIQUIN

If you want to be realistic in the 21st Century, your mannequin should have...an UGLY TATTOO.

How do you let moronic Millennials know they MUST buy and wear an item?

Remember when mannequins looked fake because they had no pubic hair? HAR HAR HAR. That's SOOOOOOOO yesterday!

"Kewl, I got a blotch of ink just like THAT...glad those knickers are see-through! Costs 7 and a half pounds? Whatever!"

The Bloody Red Mad Cow of Germany

"10, 20, 30, 40, 50 or more...the psycho-crazed Muslims are rolling up a score. Nothing can stop the fucking killing spree. It was started by MERKEL in GERMANY."

Where ARE the Royal Guardsmen when you need them to revise their hit song?

The London Daily Fail's been mentioning all the violence in Germany over the past week, and so, cautiously, have the rest of the media. After all, nobody wants to incite ISLAMOPHOBIA.

It's just a coincidence that members of that FINE, FINE religion have this habit of ambushing unarmed people in the street, or blowing everything up for the sake of ALLAH.

And the London comments are almost unanimous.

Some took the opportunity to be thankful England is leaving Merkel's pee-u.

Naturally we have some blindly altruistic Liberals out there who deplore the ISLAMOPHOBIA, and who pity the poor immigrant. But how long can you deny that immigration today is STUPID? It's not what it was even decades ago, much less 100 years ago when truly needy and GRATEFUL people were fleeing tyrants.

When you open your door wide open because a bunny is hopping toward it, DO something when ten foxes, a dozen wolves and a hundred rats follow it in.

Trending on Twitter is #MERKELSOMMER and other terms. Oh, those RACISTS, those fucking ISLAMOPHOBES who don't PITY THE POOR IMMIGRANT. Why, it's only a few troublemakers, after all. Tell that to the man who lost his wife and unborn child because a Syrian psycho went out with a machete to cause havoc. PS, let's make sure the Syrian gets a few years of pampered attention in prison and then a release.

Camoron and O'Bummer at least faced up to the media. Where's Merkel? She hasn't even dared to offer some bare-faced lie, like: "everything's fine, it's just a few malcontents. Be calm. Let's have a NICE summer. Don't scare off the tourists."

You can bet that New York Times comment was buried amid another 60 paragraphs of pro-Islam rhetoric. There are probably some spin doctors who'll insist that Germany's MILLION 20-something Muslim males are not going to change the complexion of Germany within the next 10 years.

Worse, they ain't staying within the borders of Germany.

Yee Hah - Waddya Do with Noisy Brats & Slobs in Kentucky?

So, a bratty kid wants to spend the movie kicking your seat.

You tell the brat to stop, and the redneck's obnoxious daddy argues about it.

There are no ushers, of course, and no other good seats to move to.

WADDYA DO?

Did you notice something about this article?

It suggested that going to a movie theater and NOT enjoying the movie is inevitable. You should expect it.

HELL, kids will be kids. And indulgent, arrogant parents will refuse to do discipline their brats.

So you're supposed to pay good money to be irritated and distracted by somebody else's obnoxious spawn.

Did this article say that ushers or a theater manager INSTANTLY addressed the disturbance BEFORE the guy drew his gun? Of course not.

There was no: "We'll refund you, sir" or "Please control your CHILD or we'll eject you."

No, the answer is to be a gigantic tough looking bastard with a ham for a fist, OR...being able to pull out a gun and say what we'd ALL like to say: "What the FUCK are you gonna do now?" Followed by, "Take your noisy brat and LEAVE, redneck shit head."