De-evolvinG

Michael Gove, Monarchist Whove...er...Whore

2012-01-16T13:48:00.003Z

Nothing gets on my tits more than a Tory fucker sucking up to Der Kveen, and Michael 'Gollum' Gove is right on them today. Self-professed monarchy lover and fish-lipped Tory bastard Gove has suggested that taxpayers cough up £60 million just so's Der Kveen can have a new fucking yacht to celebrate her 600th fucking jubilee. Like she needs one. And whenever she takes the bus, she gets it all to herself and she never bloody well pays so why the fuck would she need a bastard yacht?
Take one Gollum, mix in a scrotum and what do you get? Michael 'Gollum' Gove aka 'Scrotum Lips' Gove. At the moment Gollum Gove is the SNP's best reason for Scotchlander independence, just so's we would have to have dicks like him on the telly telling us how poor we are because of shitwit Tory ideas like giving old medieval despot Der Kveen a bit boat...

Happy New Year And Bugger Off

2012-01-09T15:10:00.004Z

So. Evil Tory wankbag David Cameron wants to dictate when the independence referendum takes place instead of Scotchland's democratically elected Parliament, citing that the indecision is 'damaging to business'. Not nearly as damaging as Cameron and his fucked-up policies. Anyway, the BBC Politics website speaks for us all....
Bugger off Cameron and stop interfering. The sooner we get shot of you and your Bastard Coalition (eg independence, election or tragic accident) the better. Happy 2012, my people...

Go, Grannie, Go!

2011-12-08T11:57:00.003Z

Ho-hum. So it's a bit windy today. I say 'a bit' but what I actually means is 'armageddon'. Yes, Scotland's top producer of green energy, the wind, is pissed off. Wheelie bins are quaking in their boots and I've been scanning the BBC News website for hilarious wind-related injuries like, 'Man In Banff Gets Twig Blown Up His Jacksie'.
On the subject of the BBC News website, I came across this. I'm not sure if it's a wind-up (!) or maybe just me fucking about while I should be working or some other shit...

Help ma Boab! Crivvens! Jings! Oh wee Jock's just blawn awa'! Seriously though, this is just nature's way of thinning out the old, sick, bewildered and owners of yappy wee dugs. If the cold or the ice or the Tory Bastards don't get you grannie, then the wind might...

Those Morlocks Are Right Miserable Bastards

2011-12-03T20:11:00.007Z

And they broke my fucking time machine which meant that when I set the dial for October 7 2011 it made a noise like the clutch slipping or something and BAM! I'm back, 3 December 2011 and I've totally missed two months. Anything exciting happen? Is Thatcher dead yet?
Anyway, I was watching some programme about those lab rats in Swisserland who made particles called nanobananos go faster than the speed of light - ergo they travelled back in time. I hit upon the idea that if you go backwards then exceed the speed of light them you can go forward in time. Fuck me if it didn't work.
So, what does the future hold? It's a bit shite. The Edinburgh Tram Project has bankrupt the whole of the Northern hemisphere except that fat couple from Largs who won all that money on the euro lottery. They invested in this machine that converts thoughts into deep fried pizza and now they own 98% of the planet's wealth.
So I wheeched myself away into the year 897, 265 AD and hung about for a wee bit with some Morlocks. Turns out they're not underground-dwelling, Eloi-munching, green-eyed hippy cunts. They've just a bunch of surly, greetin'-faced bastards who listen to The Smiths all the time. I got totally pissed off listening to Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now all the fucking time so while we were having a party with some liberal-minded Eloi chicks I flipped when this one Morlock twat kept banging on about his melancholia, and when he started to read me some of his poetry I punched him and started a big rammy. Fuck this, I thought, and scarpered but just as I was about to do my wobbly disappearing act some big Morlock called Morris threw a big stone at my time machine and fucked it right up...
Anyone want to buy a no' bad time machine (all offers considered)? It's got a few bumps and scratches and one big dent where that bastard Morris hit it with a big stone but it's economical to run (runs on some sort of lever thing that you have to ocassionally pretend to sharpen) and is guaranteed to provide late Victorian adventures with the possibility of sex with an Eloi of your choice. Just don't have drunken sex with a Morlock unless you plan to not sit down or swallow anything for a few days.

Soft Footsteps Follow Close Behind

2011-10-06T22:26:00.003+01:00

You know what it's like when you're walking home late at night and there's a young woman about 20 metres in front of you. No-one else. You think, 'I'll just hurry up a bit and pass her'. After all she's walking slower than you and you're catching her up. So you hurry up but she hears your hastening footsteps and hurries up too so than after a moment she's 20 metres in front again. OK, so you slow down a bit and let her get ahead but she slows down too. She's knows when to hurry up or slow down so that the 20 metre gap remains.
Then she turns round to face you. You can't stop so you look at your feet, not wanting to catch her gaze. When you're about 5 metres away she suddenly asks you if you're following her.
'I don't know,' you reply. 'Where are you going?' It's meant to be a light-hearted remark, to break the obvious tension.
She scrabbles for her phone and threatens to phone the polis if you keep following her but you tell her you're not following her, you're going home. OK, she says, but do you mind walking on the other side of the road? Why don't you walk on the other side of the road? you ask. Fuck off you fucking pervert, she says. No need for that, you say. I'm phoning the police, she threatens. OK, you say, and tell them what? That a guy who's walking home just happens to be using the same pavement as you? Then, to your great relief she spots a taxi, flags it down and fucks off...
Never actually happened but it's the sort of thing I worry about...

Mr Waffle

2011-10-05T21:17:00.003+01:00

I unfortunately saw and heard Dave Dasterdly's waffly drone to his stormtroopers in Manchester this evening. I was eating my dinner at the time (baked spud and salad, thank you) and almost vomited the lot all over Freckles (our pet crow) at the sheer bullshit I was hearing.
Dave and his buds have fucked things up big time. Spending cuts, rising unemployment, rising taxes, food prices, unemployment etc etc blah blah blah and Dave's answer is to say that they have a plan (i.e. they don't) and that they're sticking to it (i.e. they don't have a plan to stick to). He blamed the eurozone (i.e. foreigners) for rising debt and the rioters for everything else. But, he did say, that if we all stick together, put our shoulders to the wheel, grin and bear it, get on with it etc etc etc then everything would be all right in the end...
Oh yes. I've never heard such a big pile of nonsense-filled rhetoric. Just a big pile of shite, really. It was total fuck all. Really...

Bugger Off Lizardland

2011-10-01T15:59:00.003+01:00

Today's news - the hottest ever October day ever, ever, ever, as the thermometer reached something like a billion kilotonnes per square placenta or something - but in England (and Wales too). The newspeople have been squawking about how fucking hot it is, but here in Scotchland (and Northern Bogtrotterland too) it's pissing down and cold, like it should be in October, so we don't give a shit. And do you know why? Because we're not fucking lizards...
Yes, here in Scotchland we're warm-blooded and don't have to rely on the temperature getting above 25C so we can function. We're also crap at rugby but we don't give a shit about that either. Here in Scotchland we're concentrating on the real issues like worrying that the buggers in Holyrood have banned three bottles of cheap gutrot plonk for a tenner promos and making sure enough of our mad old coffin dodgers get to 100 before they shuffle off...

The Incredibly Boring Secret Of Longevity

2011-09-30T13:34:00.003+01:00

Statistics out today show that there are more people (I say 'people' but I actually mean 'ancient duffers') in Scotchland living to the rancid old age of 100. Given Scotchland's international reputation for drinking, smoking, drugs and deep-fried pizza that fact is remarkable in itself.
Anyway, the BBC (yet another no-news day in Scotchland - no dogs murdered by guys in turbans etc) - showed a wee snippet of some old wummin in Ayr or some other seagull-infested rat hole, energetically sweeping her carpet with one of those ancient carpet-sweeper things then putting a wee pie in her oven for her dinner. When asked her secret of longevity old Isa McGlumpherty listed stuff like 'doing wee puzzles', sitting', 'not catching fatal diseases', 'festering' and 'making sure that old cow across the road doesn't let her cat shite in my back garden 24/7'.
So, there you have it. If you want to live to 100 (and fuck knows why) all you have to do is never smoke, drink, do weed, have sex, watch scary films or anything else that's likely to make your heart rate go above about 12 or 13 beats a month.
Yikes...OK then, no sex. Anyway, the BBC piece finished with a question: although the percentage of the population in Scotchland 100 years or more has increased over the last ten years, it's still smaller then the percentage of the UK population over 100; why is that? Maybe more oldies are dying before they reach 100....

Shark Attack Nom Nom Nom

2011-09-29T20:42:00.003+01:00

What's happening in the world of fatal shark attacks? Well, so far this year there's been fatal shark attacks in (not actually 'in' but you know what I mean) Egypt (tourists...nom nom), Australia (surfers...nom nom, dude) and the Seychelles (some poor guy on his honeynom...er...moon...nom nom nom).
And you'd think that would be enough for most people, particularly when there's a big fucking sign on the beach which says something like, 'There's Big-Assed Fish In The Water And They Will Eat You" but no. So imagine the shock Michael Cohen got today when a Great White bit off one of his legs.
Yes, there were signs on Foeerhoerk Breerchoer Beach (Afrikaans for 'Big Assed Fish In Water And They Will Eat You) in Soof Afreeca warning that a Great White had been spotted 'cruising up and down, just out there in the sea a bit, it's fucking huge and it's looking particularly hungry' but Michael decided that it would never happen to him, just in the same way you put your cock and balls into a blender and turn it on with a self-assurance that it's only other people who put their cock and balls into a blender then turn it on who have their cock and balls instantly and blindingly painfully liquidised sort-of-way...
The shark was quoted as saying 'Michael was only a third rate surfer but a first class second course...nom nom'. AND what's he going to tell his missus? She'll probably go off on one about 'I told you so the fucking signs nag nag nag' then start crying when she remembers she's just bought him a new pair of Nike's. Anyway, I'm sure Michael will be able to sell his Nike's on e-Bay, as well as all the surfing gear the shark didn't manage to eat...

Purgatory...

2011-09-26T14:20:00.004+01:00

OK so you get to the front of the express '10 items or less' checkout despite having about 20 items in your handbasket. You think that because all of your crap is in a basket that it doesn't matter that it's twice the number it should be. The wee lassie at the till points this numerical error out but you just ignore her. She shrugs and begins to scan your shit while you fish in your pocket for your phone and check for emails or some other pointless shit. The checkout lassie asks you three times for payment. You fish in your pockets again for your wallet and hand her some notes before quickly grabbing them back from her (and giving the wee lassie a fucking fright in the process) then sticking your card in the wee machine-thing instead.
So you've finally paid, put your card and wallet away, scanned your receipt in case the wee lassie has tried to rip you off. It's at this point you might have heard a voice from the queue behind you - a big fucking queue now - telling you to get a move on (it was me).
You slowly and deliberately pack your more-than-ten items, constantly looking about yourself like some fucking paranoid nutbag. You use one bag for a loaf of bread, you wasteful turd, then you double bag it. Finally you fuck off just a millisecond before I was about to rip your fucking head off and shove it up your arse...
A seriously inconsiderate bellend. More annoying than any dementia-ridden old ratbag or twat who can't find their purse/wallet/bollocks in a bag, this guy was an out-and-out cunt. I hope he gets beaten to death by any number of people who he's pissed off in any way - and I'm certain there's about 1,000,000,000 of them - and his battered body crapped on by a huge horse with diarrhoea...

The Halifax. What A Bunch Of Wankers...

2011-09-25T20:11:00.004+01:00

To my mind The Halifax has always had the worst ever telly ads for their money-grabbing Nazi bastard banks. Who can ever forget bespectacled Mr Magoo-a-like (apart from being black) and annoying singalong cunt Howard? If ten years of that goon wasn't enough, The Halifax came out with superfucking annoying mock 'Radio Halifax' ads where their smiling drones made faces to shit rap music while extolling the virtues of an establishment where (a) all the staff are bastards and (b) all the staff are annoying, robbing bastards, or babbling along to The Shitening Lead's 'Lucky You' as if to suggest that their cusomers were somehow favoured. Now they've formed their drones into screeching choirs, inducing nausea and explosive vomiting whenever they appear on the idiot box as they mug along to some version of 'I'll Be There' (hint: it didnae work out well for Jacko...) again with the suggestion that if you're sad and lonely that some twat from The Halifax will be there to charge you £300 for being 10p overdrawn or to plague you into taking a fucking credit card...
Painfully transparent that wankers like The Halifax are trying desperately to amend their corporate image in the face of the criticism that it's the fucking banks that are responsible for global economic meltdown. Now, if banks like the Halifax want to make the public like them or to even believe that they're sorry in some way (which they're not) can I suggest that they (and The Halifax in particular) produce and broadcast TV ads showing their staff comitting mass suicide or something similar...

If You Thought Yesterday's Post About The Dug Was Bad...

2011-09-22T13:29:00.003+01:00

In totally newsworthy Scotchland, the BBC Scotchland news has a fucking belter today. Forget global economic meltdown or those redneck fucknuts in Georgia executing some guy they were only 'a bit sure he did it', those award winning (if there are awards for crap journalism) hacks at the Beeb (Scotchland Bit) have announced that nine (yes, nine) caravans were blown over by the wind.
In this mind-blowing vision of the final apocalypse some caravans were buffeted by the wind so much that they fell over. Witnesses reported that the wind was 'windy' and that the caravans were 'blown over'. The polis are looking for a man in his forties who is also described as 'Asian' and 'wearing one of those turban things. On his head.'
Doesn't look particularly caravan-like to me. Looks like the sort of mess you get when you go mental at your Ikea flatpack wardrobe-thing when there's a bit missing and you kick the living fuck out of it in a blind fury. Anyway, the polis and the firemen had a good look through the debris and said that they didn't find any dead babies or cats or anything. And as the whole thing happened in a place in Ayrshire called Maybole - which is a shit-hole - nine wrecked caravans in some scabby car park made the town considerably better looking. My ex's family live in Maybole and you'll never meet a nicer bunch of inbred psychos. I just hope that it wasn't their caravans....

A No News Day

2011-09-21T13:40:00.004+01:00

It's a bit of a slow day news-wise when the second top story on the BBC Scotchland news website is some guff about a dug being run over (translation: a dog was killed by a car).
Anyway, some scabby dug (horrible canine creature) was gubbed (hit) by a motor (car) but the driver didn't stop. As if you would, unless the dug was stuck underneath your car and somehow impeding your speedy getaway.
Interestingly though was the BBC Scotchland's description of the driver. Given that the car was only described as 'maroon' - no mention of what type or make whatsoever - the driver was descibed as 'male, around 40 years old, Asian and wearing a turban'. What sort of Sherlock Holmes managed to take in so much detail about the driver but failed to note whether his maroon vehicle was a Mini or a fucking Panzer Mark III? Methinks some racist twat maybe.
Anyway, if you are some 40 year old male Asian guy I'd take my turban off for a week or so until the heat's off. You know what the polis are like. Anyone vaguely fitting this description's getting a doing (beaten mercilessly by the polis (police))...Oliver (yes, fucking 'Oliver'. I mean, who the fuck calls their dug 'Oliver'?), now sadly departed after some turban-wielding maniac gubbed him with their motor. I have no sympathy at all for animals who get in my way. I once swerved to avoid a hedgehog and punctured a fucking tyre in the process. Needless to say I've never swerved since and can account for a couple of missing cats and various squirrels, pigeons and maybe a tramp or two...

The Silence Of The Trams

2011-09-20T12:45:00.004+01:00

If you're unfortunate enough to live here in Scotchville you'll know that a bunch of money-grabbing and crap-at-doing-tram-stuff Germans and the completely fucking useless bunch of tosspot cunts at Scotchville City Council have conspired to have a tram service, much to the annoyance of every single person who lives, works, visits or has anything whatsoever to do with Scotchville.
It's about 600 years behind schedule, about a gazillion pounds over budget and has had a third of its initially proposed length chopped off because of being a billion years behind schedule and a megazillion pounds over budget. In short it's a complete fucking nightmarish big pile of useless and expensive shite.
The cunts at the Council (not the ones who've been suspended for corruption allegations) have had their moronic coupons on the telly to tell us that despite the huge cost, disruption, unwantedness in the face of an already cheap and extremely efficient bus service, Scotchville Trams will make Scotchville 'dead good an' that, like', which is a load of balls.
The German contractors have been stalling and stopping work for years because of contractual problems, which loosely translates as 'the Scotchville City Councillors are a bunch of retarded fuckwits so let's screw them for more money'. Today Scotchville's main thoroughfare Princes Street has been closed off for 'the foreseeable future, maybe for ever, who the fuck knows, like' so that the contractors can 'repair' tram lines that have never even been fucking well used. If they had been in service in such a state of disrepair then I can only imagine the fucking carnage made by all those trams flying off their lines and squishing all those fucking annoying tourist cunts...
Castle? Festival? Annoying bagpiping buskers? Fucking tourists? Aye, we've got all that but now we've also got thousands off these yellow bastards telling us that everything will be fucked up for about another three years while a bunch of German fuckwits build us a tram thing that no-one wants, and at a massive cost to us all. Compare it to buying a ten million pound bionic arm despite having two perfectly good working arms then have it not work after you've paid some dodgy German doctor millions of pounds to sew it onto your arse or something....

National Talk Like A Deranged Fucknut Day

2011-09-19T13:21:00.005+01:00

Today IS National Talk Like A Pirate Day, for some reason or another. Apparently it's got hundreds of thousands of followers, which is bad news for anyone who says 'aaahahahaarrrggg' to me in the Evil Empire later on today. Might just find themselves walking the gangplank, or to give it its modern equivalent, walking away doubled over and clutching their recently hoofed balls.
On that note I thought it would be beneficial for those fucknuts out there who think it's 'fun' to spend a whole day talking like a pirate - and I'm pretty sure real pirates back in the day NEVER said shite like 'me hearty' or 'nyar' - to know some proper pirate terms:
shiver me timbers - I'm a collosal wanker
splice the mainbrace - I molest children
ahoy me hearties - I like to be the gimp in big gay gangbangs
pieces of eight - I like to pour methylated spirits up my pee-hole
etc etc....
Johnnie Derp, aka Cap'n Jack Swallow of those terrible Pirates of the Ciribea..Carrib...Caribe... those bloody films with all those wankers in it. Of course pirates were never like Johnnie and his mates. Pirates were vicious bastards who did horrible things to dolphins and anything else with a reasonably-sized hole on their person, not some stupid Cockernee jibber-jabber monkey bollocks. Right, I'm off to find some timbers to shiver...

Ha! I'm Not Really Dead!

2011-09-09T20:26:00.005+01:00

Phew. I've been 'away' for the past six weeks or so but not in a 'I was Tommy Sheridan's cellmate and he stuck a finger up my bum' type of way. It's this fucking Festival thing in Scotchville. It's just so fucking knackering trying to get from A to B, wading through the massive crowds of tourists or having to continually go to the bank to take out a couple of hundred quid just so I could buy a pint as every cunt puts their prices up by about a billion percent during the Festival that I've just been too fucked to be bothered to write this shite.
Anyway, since my legendary run-in with some skinhead Cockney gimp, what's happened?
I got into a skuffle with a skinhead Geordie cunt.
There's still nae trams in Scotchville.
Dave Dasterdly's still a useless twat.
The fireworks were shite.
I've got a hole in my sannies through all the walking about (you couldn't get on a bus because of all the fat tourists, and there's still NAE trams).
The Killer Nurse didn't do it. Apparently.
It's rained a lot. Nothing unusual in that. Summertime in Scotville=monsoon weather with the ever-present threat of snow.
Lots of other stuff I haven't noticed... Oh aye. The riots. The poetry. The getting gubbed in slams. Getting gubbed. Marathons. Sweaty evenings in hostelries. Closures. Blah. Blah. Stuff. Welcome back? And fucking Gogglooog being a useless pile of fetid shite....

I Don't Blame Global Warming / I Blame The Fucking Tourists

2011-07-28T17:09:00.003+01:00

...is a line from the excellent poem 'Summer Lament'. Check it out. Anyway.
It nicely shoehorns today's tourist-related incident in. As you may know (or not know or care) Scotchville's population doubles at this time of year as people from all over the planet come to gawp like idiots at the castles and culture, get persistently rained on and ripped off, paying a fiver for a pint of gassy piss in every pub (or a fiver for a glass of battery acid masquerading as 'house white').
Outside the St James' Centre (a shopping paradise complete with a Gregg's, a Poundland and scores of sports shops that sell everything that's (a) sportswear related and (b) white) I was approached by a fat, gruff skinhead-type who was wearing (I think ) a Chelsea FC shirt. I thought I was about to be abducted by the EDL for slagging off Geoff 'One Goal Hat Trick' Hurst, but no. Here's how the brief conversation panned out:
Man: Oi mate! Oi! Jock! Where's the bus station ? (If he'd taken a moment to look about himself he'd have seen that the bus station was about 10 metres away from where he was standing).
Me (slightly mocking a bit): Excuse me. Can you tell me where the bus station is, please?
Man (shouting as if I didn't understand him, like I was a bloody tourist or something): WHERE'S THE BUS STATION?
Me: Och, find it yersel'...
Oi, mate. OI! JOCK.... Needless to say I've been approached by lots of tourists asking directions and other assorted guff. A nice German couple on bikes asked me how to cycle to the Forth River; a bit ambitious of you, I told them, and we talked and had a laugh about it. An Italian couple with wee Italian sprogs asking how to get to the Museum of Childhood; Senile old Mercans pointing at The Castle while asking me if that was The Castle etc etc. It takes just one Neanderthal dickhead from Ingerlund to confirm that if you witness some Neanderthal dickheadery in Scotchville there's about a 99% chance that it's some nobhead Ingerlunder...

Damn The Theory - What About the Practicalities?

2011-07-26T14:04:00.004+01:00

Boffins, labrats and other assorted Big Brains have concluded that photons can't travel any faster than the speed of light. So fucking what, I hear you cry. Bit the implication is that if there isn't anything we know of that can travel faster than the speed of light then theoretically time travel isn't possible.
Big fucking wow. Maybe, you're saying, scientists should be doing proper science stuff, like inventing things like flubber or a pill that makes fat arses thin. But, when I tell you of the practicalities of time travel you might change your mind.
If we could travel in time we could send someone back to the eve of the World Cup final in 1966 to shoot Geoff Hurst. That in itself would make the whole enterprise worthwhile...
Shoot Geoff 'Two-Goal Hat Trick' Hurst and end 45 years of (a) English delusions about how the ball 'might have' crossed the line and (b) the rest of the world (and the Scotchishers in particular) showing conclusively that it bloody well didnae. And the 'third' one should have been disallowed because there were people on the pitch; the ref should have stopped play. Geoff 'One Goal Hat Trick' Hurst it is then...

The Inverse Triangle of How Important People Are According To The Media

2011-07-25T13:13:00.006+01:00

You'd think the simple mathematics of greater numbers of misfortune being more important than smaller numbers of misfortune would make the impending deaths of millions in East Africa being of greater worth than the death of one drug addict. You're so fucking wrong.
The media has lots of other things it factors in - gender, race, importance with regards to the number of Grammies and number one albums, for example. Here's how the weekend's carnage pans out:
Amy 'Crackface' Winehouse. Although she's a wumman she's also English and has sold tonnes of albums. 6Music has been paying tribute non-stop since Saturday evening and playing her annoying nasal guff on a loop despite her mediocre talent and propensity for self destruction. She's the British media's top story as we all await confirmation that the smack got her.
This story was usurped by Wino's death despite 93 deaths at the hands of some blond, right-wing, gun-wielding fucknut, the victims were actually Norweegie. Although a lot of victims were white and some might have been able to string a few words of English together they weren't British enough, and none had two best selling albums.
Train crash in China. Only 35 people died so (a) that's a lot less than 93 Norweegies (b) the chances that any of the victims were either English speaking or had even a number one single in the British charts are really small. Add in the facts that (a) China's a long way away and (b) the victims were communists, it's hardly surprising that compared to the death of one British fucked-up junkie 35 dead Chineesies is a non-story.
Thousands have already died but aid agencies are worried that the number could rise to hundreds of thousands. Despite being English and having lots of Grammies Amy Winehouse could do fuck all to stop the years of drought and civil wars which means death on a scale unimaginable to us Brits. Not that we're that heartless; it's just that (a) Africa's quite far away, (b) the victims seem not be be Caucasian at all and (c) they're all probably Muslims...

What To Do If Your Dog Chokes. Personally I'd Do Nothing.

2011-07-22T20:30:00.004+01:00

Following on yesterday's Star Trek/auto erotic asphyxiation thing I thought I'd do something on choking. I'm fed up with the auto choke wank thing, having done Celebrity Choke Wank Death Syndrome to...er...death with the wank choke death of Kristian Digby as well as touching on the hilarious passing of that Carradine bloke who used to be Kung Fu and that Hutchence guy who was in dreadful 90s band INXS and who was humping Paula Yates. Apparently Hutchence was having an auto erotic choke wank while looking over naughty photos of Yates when he snuffed it. Obviously the shame was so great for Ms Yates that she promptly killed herself. Anyway.
I suppose there is a fundamental difference between Hutchence using his belt to hang himself on the back of the bathroom door and a dog. Dogs don't wear belts for a start, and if I walked in on anyone I knew who was in the middle of a choke wank I wouldn't intervene with the Heimlich manoeuvre. But just in case you do have a dog (and fuck knows why) and it chokes after chewing on your wallet, and you realise that trying to kick the wallet out of your dog's not helping (much), here's how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on your dog, thereby saving it's life so you can have it humanely killed for eating all your cash and credit cards...
I love this picture. I love that it's a woman saving good ol' Pongo and not some guy with his trousers round his ankles. It does beg the question though of how it was discovered how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on an admittedly medium-sized dog and not one of those wee yappy bastards or a fucking Irish Elkhound. Anyway. if you've got a Dalmation and are thinking of using it as a drug mule by getting it to swallow twenty 250 gramme bags of cocaine (street value £1.2 million), here's how you get the bastard to puke them up...

Good News For Freaks, Geeks And Assorted Fucknuts

2011-07-21T20:32:00.004+01:00

This headcase is living the dream. After a lifetime of social shunning, solitude and frantic masturbating over dodgy Internet pics of Counsellor Troi, Raules Davies (Commander, probably) has been given a job by Mercan telly network CBS or something, to dress up in one of his no-doubt countless Star Trek costumes and present reruns of The Next Generation (which finished filming a mere 17 years ago in 1994) with a few details and facts from his thoroughly boring encyclopaedic knowledge of TNG, like 'in this scene Data farts and as we all know androids can't fart'. YAWN.
If you record and watch and re-watch whatever completely fictitious crap you're obsessed with to the extent that you've begun to believe your own delusions then don't give up. Go with your madness and dress up like Batguy or Superbloke. Pretend you're a Pylon from Battlestar Babylon Farscape or whatever the fuck it is. If you can survive the abuse from everyone you've ever known and manage to stay out of secure psychiatric facilities then maybe one day you too will get to go on the telly and front up whatever sci-fi nonsense you believe in at 3am to a global audience of maybe 14 or even 15.
The daddy of them all: Star Force, with the Daddy of all Daddies Captain Tim J Burke. Onboard the Star Force ship Entercourse they would fly about (although technically you can't fly in space - you float) and every episode the entire crew would indulge in a spot of auto erotic asphyxiation. You can't see Tim wank himself (because censorship was tougher back in the 1820s when this was first televised), and although you can clearly see all of Lootenant (I can be arsed finding the proper spelling) Uhuglu, the programme wasn't to show a black woman's fanny. Anyway. Welcome to follower number 17. (I'm amazed that I've only 17 followers but as you devotees of De-evolvinG know, more people leave than stay. Like a party thrown by someone who starts talking about their fucking kids while they pass around photos of the little turds...)

The Oracle And Killer Nurses

2011-07-20T15:53:00.006+01:00

After Sunday's correct prediction about Medusa Brookes getting arrested, last night while watching the news I confidently predicted to my Better Half that this was the work of some killer nurse. Looks like I'm right on this score. I'm now thinking of setting myself up as a psychic. Or not. No-one knows but me...
This follows in the tradition of fucknuts who train as nurses or occasionally doctors then set about ridding the general population of smelly weans and/or annoying old people. I know that during my career as a nurse there were lots of people I wanted to kill (disclaimer: I have never killed anyone). As well as annoying patients there were other nurses, doctors and social workers, but the group I most wanted to cluster bomb for sheer fucking annoyingitude were the bastard families of the patients. Greetin' faced, moaning bastards the lot of them. Ironically, annoying family members would become insufferably nice and grateful when their nearest and dearest finally succumbed to Death's final kiss. Or insulin in their saline drip. Anyway. Looks like I missed out on that one.
Killer Nurse: some unheard-of, straight to DVD piece of shit. Anyway, there was this one woman who annoyed the shit out of me - she complained about everything and was always in my face. Thankfully her mother copped it and that was that until a few years later when the woman approached me in a shop. She started going on and on again as if (a) her mother was still alive; (b) I was still managing a care home and we were in my office and (c) we weren't in the Lady's' Pants section of M&S. I took my time and waited until she stopped speaking then told her to go fuck herself. Karma...

The Mercury Prize - Fixed So I Don't Even Get Shortlisted. Again.

2011-07-19T13:11:00.005+01:00

Life is just one big series of disappointments. Every year I get turned over for Acadamy Awards, BAFTAs, Nobel prizes, knighthoods, Bookers and now the Mercury prize has completely ignored my album If This Is Played In A Forest And There's No-One There To Hear It Does It Actually Exist? Or Something? Eh? and gone with all the mainstream - and admittedly people have actually heard of them - artists such as King Creosote (who?), Anna Calvi (eh?) and Biggety Biggety Bong (I made this one up). OK so my album's sort of post-concept and metaphysical insomuch that it doesn't actually exist but it still sounds 1000% better than M People's winning pile of shite Elegant Bumming.
I did actually win the Turner Prize in 1992 for my piece called God's Cock Looks Like A Bit Of Blue Tack, which was a bit of blue tack moulded to look like a cock and balls. I'd even used a few of my plucked nasal hairs as pubes but I got disqualified because I'd forgotten to include half a kilo of my own shit in it. As a result Damien 'Talentless Cockfaced Twat' Hurst won instead with his piece called God's Cock Looks Like Half A Kilo Of Damien Hurst's Shit. The rest, as they say, is history. Hurst is a multi millionaire albeit talentless turd and I'm writing this shit before I set off for my methadone and four bottles of Evil Empire Own Brand Methylated Cooking Sherry.
Here's the artwork for the De-evolvinG 2011 album 'If This Is...(read the rest yourself). Like I said it's so left field and unique that it doesn't actually exist. But here's the really cool thing about it...you can still buy a copy! I only deal in hard cash so none of you smart arses out there can pay me with your metaphysical Paypal account or some other stupid nonsense. Hard cash...

Old People Are Annoying: An Update

2011-07-18T21:04:00.005+01:00

I was in a bad mood earlier today because I wanted to join in with the latest fad of mass job resignation but seeing as I'm technically self-employed I couldn't work out how to resign from myself. To cheer myself up I went to my local Evil Empire to buy some new slippers. Really.
Anyway, big fucking mistake as the Evil Empire here in Scotchville is the same as any other Evil Empire anywhere else - infested with fucking old people.
So, after re-acquainting myself with why I hate the Old Bastard/Evil Empire combo (they treat the place like a social club, they clutter up the aisles, the dreaded lazy old cunts in those fucking electric buggy cunts which the Evil Empire provides gratis for the old cunts), I was eager to make like a banana and split.
So, in front of me in the checkout queue were Mr and Mrs Methuselah. He was a bony old cunt and she had the smell of death about her (there seemed to be vultures outside peering through the window at her). Anyway.
The drone at the checkout was packing their shopping for them, as they'd obviously totally forgotten that the offer to pack their two packets of Rich Tea biscuits and Basics Panty Liners For Incontinent Old Ladies was just a courtesy and that they should fucking well pack their shit themselves. Bony Old Cunt was remonstrating with the drone - telling her that she should put the biscuits in last in case they get crushed. I was thinking that the old cunts would need all the help they could get with their biscuits when Bony Old Cunt starts taking everything out of the fucking bag so the drone could repack. After a quick verbal prompt from me ('get a fucking move on for fuck sake') Bony Old Cunt finally decided that their three fucking items were packed to his satisfaction before fishing in every one of his bastard pockets for his money. He paid. The drone gave him his change. The old cunt neatly folded his receipt and change, put it in his pocket before fishing out his fucking mobile phone top up card, taking out his carefully-folded money and asking for five pound top up. I was shouting in his face at this point: 'fuck me grandad do you really think you'll live long enough to spend five pound's worth of credit?' In my head.
The drone apologised to me for having to wait. 'Don't apologise for the fossils,' I gallantly replied. Then, outside the Evil Empire, waiting at the pedestrian crossing, who should pass in a car but the fucking fossils. Thankfully they went towards Leith, no doubt to crash into a bus shelter or try to park up a close. The old cunts are dangerous enough pushing a trolley in the Evil Empire for fuck sake. Why let them drive a half-tonne chunk of metal when Bony Old Cunt can't even put two packets of biscuits and a box of piss pads into a bag...

I Am The Oracle

2011-07-17T15:52:00.004+01:00

When despised media harridan Rebekah 'Dead Eyes' Brookes resigned last week I confidently predicted to anyone who was listening that she would be arrested today, and fuck me I was right as the polis huckled The Scary One away for being a despicable, phone hacking hack and not-bribing-the-polis-with-enough-cash-to-save-her-own-arse corruption-type person.
I'd avoided this story because (a) it's on the bloody BBC 24/7 and (b) I'm deeply involved myself exposing those implicated in the JuanSheetGate cover up.
Anyway, here's my predictions for what's going to happen next or soon or maybe never at all in the News International phone hacking/corruption/bribery/perjury/etcetcetc thing:
- Rupert Murdoch will suddenly develop Alzheimer's Disease to avoid facing trial and then make a miraculous recovery.
- James Maxwell will blame his mental old dad and get off with everything but will be forced to flee the UK for Uganda where he'll get eaten by an undiscovered tribe of cannibals (or not, as the case may be).
- Brookes, Coulson and all the other hacks, together will all the polis who've been fingered will stab each other in the back to save their own pathetic skins, give evidence against each other but will all ultimately be given really short prison terms. Brookes will end up doing the chat show circuit but will be dropped after a huge increase in children having nightmares and wetting the bed. Coulson will get a job as Dave Dasterdly's PR advisor in the run up to Election 2015. He'll run with the slogan 'Fuck You, Public' and will die in an explosion in the cabinet room at Number 10. The polis will all die in prison.
- Dave Cameron will not resign his post as PM despite clearly being implicated in everything. He will see his Bastard Coalition destroyed in the next election in 2015, commit suicide by blowing up the entire Cabinet and giving rise to that ugly Labour Milliband bloke's socialist dictatorship.
Have you ever noticed that you never see Mick Hucknall, Scary Brookes and a gorgon all in the same room at the same time? Eh? Eh? I think Brookes styled herself on Medusa, to make herself scary and formidable with the possiblity of turning you into stone if you pissed her off. And she also threw some Hucknall into the mix because he's the only other person on the planet with long, curly, ginger hair who has the ability to make an entire country hate them for what they do...

Scotland's Largest Lottery Winners Win Largest Amount Of Cash

2011-07-15T19:18:00.003+01:00

A large couple from Largs (write your own punchline) here in Bonnie Scotchland has won a fucking large amount of cash on the Euro Lottery - £161,000,000, which is the equivalent of £5 million per year in interest payments alone.
The pics on the telly today of Mr and Mrs Jabba Thehutt, the joy in their piggy eyes and rolls of jowly flab, are an epitome of Scotch health and fatness...er...fitness. They said they're going on holiday to China and Australia as soon as someone builds a plane capable of getting off the ground with the pair of them on it and Mr Thehutt expressed a desire to go and watch some wee fitba team in some place called Barcelona (diddy fucking Scotch teams not good enough for you anymore, you fat and incredibly rich git?)
If I was one of the Thehutts I'd (a) get radical liposuction or (b) buy Tunnock's and delicious teacake myself to death. But seeing as how I don't indulge in The Stupid Person's Tax (the odds of them winning were something like 60,000,000 to 1 - with those sort of odds I don't see why I should be selling one of my kidneys to purchase tickets) my chances of winning are are less likely than either one of the Thehutts ever wiping their own arse again. Ever...
'We're fat...er...rich as fuck!' Obviously, having £161 million in the bank means that neither Mr or Mrs Thehutt will have to buy their clothes in Primark or George at Asda again, get that nice and 100% safe laser eye surgery so they won't have to wear ghastly 'two pairs of cheap plastci shit specs for a tenner' from Specsavers as well as the radical liposuction I suggested. Mr Thehutt can join the Largs Golf Club (providing he changes his religion to Proddie) and Mrs Thehutt can lie outside and sunbathe beside their new swimming pool (providing she remembers that it (a) snows in Largs in May and (b) she will be a target for passing whaling boats. Man the fucking harpoons...

De-evolvinG -v- Juan Sheet And Now The Advertising Standards Authority And Some Anonymous Person Who Told Me To Get A Life: An Update

2011-07-12T20:35:00.005+01:00

There's a conspiracy between the makers of the dreadful jumped-up bog paper Plenty who advertise their crap by using some horrible depiction of a Hispanic bloke called (unfunnily) Juan Sheet, the useless cunts at the Advertising Standards Authority and some anonymous twat who left a comment on this esteemed blog suggesting that I 'get a life'.
First of all (and those of you who remember my sabotaged campaign to ban squirrels will remember) - I'm not giving up until Juan Sheet is banned, or everyone forgets about it.
Second, the ASA emailed me to say that:

The ASA Council considered that the portrayal of this unrealistic character, which appeared to draw on fictional characters such as Zorro, was unlikely to be interpreted as a negative or racist stereotype of Spanish or Latin American people or to cause serious or widespread offence on those grounds. While we appreciate that you found this ad distasteful, we do not consider it sufficiently different from the ad which the ASA Council assessed and therefore will not be investigating this ad further.

Eh? Useless twats. The appeal is on its way, ASA nobs.
'Get a life', then? Get yourself some goddam balls and shout and scream at stuff that just gets passed off by faceless cunts in useless and toothless 'authorities' like the ASA. Note that they refer to Juan Shit as 'unrealistic' which I take it means it's not a real depiction of Hispanic men. How come he TALKS with a Hispanic accent, ASA ballbags? And I hate it when people leave anonymous comments. Craven, so it is...

Eat Cake Or Die

2011-07-11T14:40:00.004+01:00

Thomas Condiff is a fat person with a problem. He's 62, weighs 22 stones, has a BMI of 43 and has been given a year to live because of his type two diabetes which has left him blind in one eye and reliant on his poor missus to wash him and wipe his arse because he's too fat and wasted to do it himself.
Obviously poor Tom is a victim of being force feed lovely pies and cakes and stuff over a prolonged period, leaving him in his current state of fattitude. He's tried dieting but he can't be arsed with lettuce and bananas unless they're removed from his dinner plate and replaced with pies and cakes.
So Thomas got on his state-funded fat person's electric buggy thing and trundled off to his local NHS Trust to get a gastric band on his tum tum so that he would loose weight and not die of some diabetes-related disorder within the next twelve months.
However he was told that he's not fat enough for a gastric band; they only operate on hugely-obese fatsters who have BMIs of 50 or more. Tom's is a mere 43.
Here's Thomas's problem: either loose weight by himself, like going on a diet and maybe getting off his fat arse and walking about a bit or get those additional 7 BMI points before the diabetes carries him off...
Here's a young and obviously elegant and suave and all that lady who has come up with the problem of cake/obesity. She's cottoned on to the fact that if you have a couple of cakes or pies or something you can then burn off the calories by fucking for a couple of hours. I think she's had more cakes than fucks but she looks like she can handle it. As for Thomas - parading about in jogging trousers and a tight vest with the legend 'will fuck for cake' won't really help much. I'll be checking the obituaries in about twelve months...

De-evolvinG -v- Juan Sheet: An Update

2011-07-07T17:00:00.003+01:00

The ASA have emailed me to say they've received my complaint that Juan Sheet is racist and patronising bullshit. I've also set up a Faecesbook group (though no-one's joined yet, for fuck sake) and the good people at is-a-cunt have quickly agreed that Juan Sheet is not only racist and patronising but a cunt as well. Lovely.
So there Juan, you turd. The people at is-a-cunt wouldn't flag you as a cunt if they didn't think you were a cunt. But you are. So there.

De-evolvinG -v- Juan Sheet And His Annoying Bloody Ads

2011-07-06T17:17:00.003+01:00

It is my belief that Juan Sheet and his jumped-up bog paper is racist and misogynistic. So I've complained to the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) to have it removed.
It's racist because it's a poor depiction of Latinos (is he Spanish? Mexican?). It suggests they all dress up like fucking nobs and wear gay, feathery hats and like to wiggle their skinny arses for the wummin. And they also prowl the land looking for people who spill things so they can mop it up with their poxy bloody bog paper. If Juan Shit was depicted as a bogtrotting Oirishman or a sheep shagging Welshman it would be flagged as racist straight away. But because it's taking the piss out of someone foreign it's OK.
And he's a fucking patronising shit - refering to wummin as 'preetty ladees' in his crappy accent. Surely that's misogynistic? So I'm launching the Ban Juan Campaign. Get Juan and his slobbering lips and wibbly, skinny arse off my telly...

Things In Your Kitchen That Can Kill You - The Fridge Freezer

2011-07-05T19:28:00.004+01:00

OK, I'm not going off on a 'things in your kitchen yada yada...' rant because I'm not. Anyway. Firemen dudes in London have issued a warning that fridge freezers (Beko ones - the cheapo ones) can spontaneously combust or explode or something, causing your kitchen and adjoining parts of your home to burn down. Things burn down - not up or sideways.
I have a friend who claimed that he left his (in a kitchen appliance that burns your house down link) washing machine on while he went out to buy some bread or maybe it was milk. Anyway, the point is when he returned home he discovered that his washing machine had gone mental and burned his house down. I always thought he was a lying bastard and that his house-burning-down-caused-by-defective-psycho-washing-machine was a cover up for his alcoholism until my Better Half informed me that her brother in law or someone had experienced the exact same thing. Fucking weird.I don't know any firemen (thankfully) but I've always - for some inexplicable reason - thought that they were all gay. Maybe it's because of this pic. One of many, many, many gay porn-type images. Why do gay men think half-dressed firemen are sexy. I blame the fucking Village People. Tossers...

If Ronald Reagan Was Still Alive He'd Be 100 But He's Dead So He's Not

2011-07-04T19:37:00.004+01:00

A ten foot bronze statue of 1980s American president Ronald Reagan has been unveiled today (or it might have been yesterday - I'm not really bothered to be honest) in London village, outside the Merry Can embassy or some place. I can't say I was a fan of old Alzheimer Ron because he was a right wing fucknut, liked despotic mad witch Maggie Thatcher and nicked my idea of naming places like Asda and Tesco the 'Evil Empire' when he labelled the then Soviet Union 'the evil empire'. Thieving cunt.It's nice to think that Ron - much like Thatch, if the suspicions are true - had Alzheimer's before he popped his clogs. Incontinent, bewildered, no short term memory...I'm pretty sure old Ray Gun Ron had dementia while he was still the president...

How To Assault The Polis And Get Away With It

2011-06-30T19:57:00.004+01:00

Sylvester Nowak managed to attack two polis wummin with a knife and an axe and maybe some other unreported chibbing material, gave both a right good doing and he got away with it - absolutely buckshee. How come?
Nowak is 98 and an insane old man. According to the BBC he has 'severe' dementia and is 'insane'. You don't really have degrees of dementia (particularly vascular dementia) and it's a bit much to call any dribbling old mad couch-wetter with dementia 'insane'. Incontinent - almost certainly. A fucking basket case - yes. Away with the fairies - that too.
Anyway, mad old Sly chibbed the polis but didn't get the nick. He got a punishment far worse - a place in a care home. I just hope for Sly's sake it's not t his one...
A crazy, toothless, old fucknut. Maybe it's Mad Ol' Sly himself. Maybe I should have Oolgoglled a pic of him but I didn't. Do it yourself if you're so fucking interested in seeing what a 98 year old polis thumper with vascular dementia looks like...

Lie Back And I'll Fan You

2011-06-28T17:33:00.004+01:00

If you've ever been stuck for the definition of a word - say 'hypocrite', for example, all you need to do is click here for the answer.
Yes, pig-faced Labour MP and fat hypocrite Lyn Brown, who apparently campaigns 'hard' for a fair wage and even asks for donations on her website (I bet she keeps it) is being slapped hard on her flabby arse for advertising for an unpaid phone monkey/desk jonny/slave.
Her currently paid and full time phone monkey is leaving and greedy chops Brown is pocketiing the salary by advertising for a fucking slave to 'answer the phone', 'do some IT stuff', 'rub my feet when they're sore' and 'generally degrade themselves by working for a greedy fucking MP for fuck all'.
Just so you can get a right good look at what a greedy fucking politician looks like, here's greedy fucking politician Lyn Brown, Labour MP who's so fucking skint and unable to practise what she preaches by paying a decent wage to some poor sod who has to share an office with her. I bet she uses far too much horrible perfume - probably Aromatics - to cover up her 'bladder problems' and laughs at her own farts. Shame on you...

How To Wind Up God

2011-06-26T15:51:00.003+01:00

In my teens and early twenties I would often get drunk at parties and preach to anyone who wasn't phoning the police or getting ready to punch me in the mouth. My favourite was to prove that God, the bible and all that there religion was a big pile of shite. It still is a big pile of shite. Anyway.
One of the easiest for me to remember was that in the bible where it says that God created light on the first day but created the sun - the source of light - on the fourth. Then I'd leer drunkenly at their cleavage and ask them to explain that one, eh? EH?
Of course it makes perfect sense to believe that something you can't actually prove exists is responsible for everything in the entire universe but it didn't stop people saying that I shouldn't be saying things like that. I thought I was being dead clever and all that, to impress the ladies. Turns out all the ladies thought I was a drunken fucknut...

Horse Fucking Derek Woods The Horse Fucker: An Update

2011-06-24T13:35:00.005+01:00

Post number 700. I've actually remembered this time (unlike the legendary rant that was 'post 401 for fuck sake') and I thought I'd do yet another update on horse fucker Derek 'Horse Fucker' Woods, the Horse Fucker - it's had more than a thousand hits which either means that it's very popular or there's lots of people looking for horse porn. It might even be horse fucker Derek himself, just checking to see if I write anything defamatory about the horse fucking horse fucker.
Horse fucker Derek Woods, who got a two year supervision order in January after the polis caught him on camera fucking a horse. He's also had a restriction order placed on himself which means he can't go within a mile of the horse he fucked. There's approximately 1.35 million other horses in the UK he can fuck though...
I got my pals who do that South Park thing to draw me a picture of what they thought a horse fucker like Derek 'Horse Fucker' Woods, the horse fucker would look like and they came up with this. They've even labelled it 'Horse Fucker' so you know that the man in the picture - who, for the sakes of not being sued for defamation by horse fucker Derek Woods - is definitely not horse fucker Derek 'Horse Fucker' Woods. Did I mention Derek 'Horse Fucker' Woods is from Glasgow?

I Was Nearly Killed Today (Again) Part 34

2011-06-23T20:22:00.004+01:00

Some tosser in a big car came flying round the corner (as tossers in big cars are wont to do) - right beside a crematorium where's there's lots of distracted mourners and people looking for a free sandwich at the wake - and he nearly hit me! Of course I did my usual profane shouting and middle finger-giving. Turd. I hope he gets a painful and terminal disease.
As I always like to put a pic or a vid or something I Ooogglolled 'turd' and this was the first picture to come up. I think it's very fitting:
I feel sort of sorry for all the old people coming out of the crematorium who had to listen to me raving: 'did you see how fast that bastard was going?' etc etc. Anyway, to make it up to them and to announce my next special post (whenever that is) - Number 700 - here's a short video that old people will readily understand:

Bonnie Scotland With Its Lochs, Glens, Castles And Neo-Fascists

2011-06-22T20:13:00.004+01:00

So. Fat, baldy Labour MP Ian Davidson has branded the SNP 'neo-fascists'. The SNP are a lot of things but neo-fascist isn't really one of them, although for some reason a lot of people like to depict Der Fuhr...er...the First Minister Alex Salmond as something akin to genocidal maniac, Hebrew-hating and Soviet Union-invading nutcase Adolf Hitler...
See, it's that sort of remark that could get you ten years in a work camp whenever the bloody SNP make good on their claims that they're a Scottish independence party, Scotland becomes an independent state, Wee Eck goes mental with power lust and paranoia and has one of those 'Night of the Long Knives' party-things and fat, gobshite Labour MPs 'disappear', if you know what I mean...

Stupid, Ignorant, Thieving Turd Of The Day

2011-06-21T12:40:00.003+01:00

This guy is a turd. He took my research and passed it off as his own, almost verbatim but with a few additions of his own which makes him a thieving plagiarist and a stupid ignoramus twat too..."...VAT could be as high as 20%..." Er...VAT is 20%, you twat. "...I'll get £400 when the magazine publishes my story..." I doubt if it is your story - I think I've established you're a plagiarist. And anyway, if it is your own work I'm sure it'll be shit. Maybe if you submit it to 'Shit Stories by Awful, Deluded Twats' magazine you might stand a chance...

The Bulls Are Putting Sand In The Vaseline Already

2011-06-20T20:40:00.005+01:00

Today's news that naughty and soon-to-be-convicted-of-unlawful-killing? copper Simon Harwood is to be tried is welcomed, although I wouldn't be surprised if he got off. The system likes to protect those who protect it...Aw....da diddums...did the bad man hurt you, naughty policeman? Or is it so obviously a ploy to curry favour by pretending to be hurt? Maybe you should have turned up in a wheelchair, although once the Bulls with the sand-tainted Vaseline get their hairy mitts on your nice, soft arse, sitting down might not be uppermost in your mind...

If I Had A Million Pounds I'd Give It To The SNP Too... (...If (a) I Was mental and (b) I Had A Million Pounds)

2011-06-19T19:53:00.003+01:00

Now that the executors of the late, great Edwin Morgan's will are about to announce who's getting what, the cockroaches are coming out of the woodwork.
And fuck me if one of them isn't our esteemed leaders in Holyrood, the SNP, who have been banging on about how great and good Morgan was and how humble the SNP are that Morgan supported the cause of independence in Scotchland. Doesn't mention whether Edwin Morgan supported the SNP, though....
Edwin Morgan, who died last August, is supposed to have left just under a million pounds to the SNP who are having kittens about it, although at the time of writing it hasn't actually been confirmed - just banded about in crap papers like the Sunday Liam and the Sunday Pissed. And as far as I know Morgan never publicly supported the SNP so perhaps their celebrations are a bit premature. Although it would be great if there were conditions like spending the night in a haunted house (there's hundreds of the buggering things here in Scotchville) with Nicola 'Name Like A Fish' Sturgeon. What would be scarier - seeing a ghost or seeing Sturgeon without her twenty-odd layers of make up?

Useless Celeb Nobs Get Deals For Books No-One Reads Anyway And Poor Writers Like Me Starve...

2011-06-16T16:53:00.004+01:00

One of Scotchland's premier literary festivals in Melrose gets under way and the BBC website has an article which details all the contemporary literary greats who are attending. Let's have a look...
Larry Lamb? Who the fuck is he? I had to goloogll that mother just to find out he was on fackin' Eastenders, that cockney bollocks I never watch, fack me and no mistake, guv. He gets a book deal just because he was on the telly. Cunt.
Rory McGrath? Another telly pundit. Michael Parkinson, who actually died in 2009 but is being kept alive in the public's imagination by all those ads he does for coffin dodger's insurance. Maureen Lipman, who is a fucking literary giant...inside her own head. And Rory Bremner, who stopped being funny in 1991. What a bunch of rubbish book-punting twats. What's so literary about a bunch of celebs selling their fucking shitty autobiographies? Fuck all, that's what.
I'm not surprised at how shit the line up is. Last year's Scotchville International Rubbish Celeb Autobiography And Menopausal Claptrap Festival was full of events (mostly) featuring people I'd never heard of, and the toilets were a fucking disgrace. And here's me, writing this witty and erudite shite nearly every day to a global audience of people looking for horse porn and do I get a book deal? Not really...

I'd Need To Be Clinically Dead Before I Went To A Take That Concert

2011-06-15T17:18:00.004+01:00

News from crap 'boy band' reunionists-for-the-money Take That's tour which got underway in third world Manchester is that tonnes of 'fans' got horribly fucked on the bevvy which led to a big increase in admissions to Accident and Emergency departments all over Manchester.
I'd have to have large injections of horse tranquilisers just be in the same building as some cunt playing a Take That song, let alone going to one of their gigs just to watch a bunch of fat, sweaty drunk 40-something wummin scream and throw their sweaty knickers at a bunch of fat, sweaty 40-something hasbeen fannies. It does stand to reason that many, many, many of the poor wummin who were coerced by their Take That-loving friends to cough up £120 for a ticket would want to get as drunk and out of it is possible...
Take That in their prime back in the 1930s when Robbie Williams went under the name of Robbie Goebbels and that fat one was called Herman Goering. I think the gay one was Addie Hitler. Here Robbie's singing the popular ditty 'Relight My Fiery Pile Of Books', the follow up to hits like 'Back For Jews', 'A Thousand Death Camps' and 'Herman The Fat Dick'. Sadly, following the Allied Invasion in 1944 the group split up but have reformed again and again and again to the delight of new generations of fans and neo Nazi groups like Der VestLife, Der Backstreet Youth and Der Bastard Jonas Korp...

Medieval Bollocks: Part Two

2011-06-11T17:36:00.003+01:00

I'm pretty sure Medieval Bollocks Part One was posted about two years ago. If there's a De-evolvinG archivist out there email them and they'll tell you. Anyway.
Der Queen has been handing out her Medieval Crap to the plebs today in some sort of forlorn hope that (and rather unfortunately there's tonnes of misguided cavemen and other assorted nobs who actually believe in all this pish) the Masses and Great Unwashed will fall on their knees and pray that some unbelievable deity preserves her and all that shite. So people you've never heard of or bonehead celebs you don't give a nob about have been given letters to add to their name. Sir Bruce Forsyth and Lady Lady GaGa, although it's been kept quiet that Peter Tobin's been given an OBE for his services to serial murder and punching journalists who work for The ~~Sun~~ Shit...
Sir Lord MBE Peter Lord Brucie Tobin Forsyth Forsyth Tobin Murderer Didn't He Do Lots Of Stuff Brucie It Wisnae Me Brucie Bonus YaDa YaDa Etcetera celebrating today. He's now a knight or something which means that Der Queen can order him to storm the walls of Mordor or something...

Spare A Thought For The Duck And The Rabbit

2011-06-09T13:11:00.005+01:00

Of course, on the face of it, this is terrible. It was probably a bunch of boozed-up fucknut neds or maybe the owner of a kebab shop looking for free meat - no matter; it's still shocking and totally unforgivable. Just imagine the injuries the duck and rabbit are being treated for - shock, having your ears pulled, being called a 'duck-faced bastard' or maybe even being subjected to plucking.
Today the staff at the Pet's Corner are all mourning the loss of four - yes, four - small furry animals and a couple of wee birds, as well as the loss of larger and more edible creatures like ducks and chickens.
I've offered my support at this time of grief and avoiding local Chinese carry-outs and have agreed to put up this poster in the hope that the missing animals are found. Preferably alive and not marinaded with a kebab skewer up its arse:
Such a pointless act....everyone knows that duck, rabbit, budgie, guinea pig, cockatiel, love bird and finch ALL taste like fucking chicken anyway. Anyway, I hope the polis catch the buggers and give them a taste of their own medicine. Stick them on the polar bear enclosure at Edinburgh Zoo for an hour or two. Polar bears are notoriously unfussy eaters and don't give a fuck if things taste like chicken, penguin or ned...

Shocking Journo News

2011-06-08T20:14:00.003+01:00

The Daily ~~Retard~~ Record and its sister newspaper the Sunday Mail have announced that they're cutting 90 - a third of their staff - journalists, which is shocking news. Journalists? I honestly thought the Retard and the Mail were written by brain damaged monkeys.
Never one to shirk its journalistic responsibilities or integrity, the Retard was the first Scottish newspaper to bring you topless pictures of convicted perjurer and deluded gobshite Tommy Sheridan , as well as the now-infamous 'Wet Wet Wet - Proud To Be Scottish' feature, which, as every Scotch will tell you, is a point of national shame and dishonour.
Once proud to claim that it was 'read' by one million Scottishes, the Daily Retard has fallen from grace and now has a circulation number of 'not a lot'. I blame them cutting the cartoon strip 'Angus Ogg' for the demise. Angus Ogg was some Hebridean inbred stereotype wellie-wearing sheep shagging alcoholic wife-beating football hooligan and benefit cheat. Despite Angus being held up as a role model for most adult males in Scotchland the editors cut him...

Awful Excuse For Sexual Abuse, Part One

2011-06-07T16:40:00.003+01:00

John Goldie, abuser and terrible liar, has been banged up for three years for this.
Not only did he make up 'sexsomnia' as an excuse for his abuse but also claimed the strain of the court case had brought on a bad case of 'terminal cancer', the daft old twat.
Now, I'm pretty sure that blaming something that happens when you're asleep for something bad that happens -whether it's Goldie or the crap that happens in films like Paranormal Absurdity - is a pretty well established defence: 'How could I stop all the farting - I was asleep', 'I didn't mean to punch you in the face - I must have been dreaming' or 'I couldn't help myself or even remember thirty years of sexual abuse - it must have been the sexsomnia'.
My favourite is 'I didn't mean to brutally kill you - it must have been the demon', although I'm willing to concede that was in Paranormal Absurdity. The (absurd) plot of Paranormal Activity allows for tonnes of weird shit - that happens at night, strangely enough, when it's dark and scary - like car keys going missing and being dragged out of bed by an invisible entity that bites your arse to be blamed on a 'demon'. I've tried this excuse and it doesn't work. Anyway, nice to see yet another mad old rapist getting his lot...

Now The Useless LibDem Lapdog Turds Are Nazis Too

2011-06-06T17:38:00.005+01:00

Or at least they're trying to be like their dark overlords, The Bastard Tories. After getting their arses well and truly booted to fuck at last month's elections while the Bastard Tories gained seats, it seems that Nick 'Clegg' Clogg and his bunch of backstabbing, turncoat, only-in-it-for-the-power, fuck-me-we-lied-but-got-well-rumbled bunch of useless LibDem arseholes have decided that the best way to stay in power is to act like the Nazi Bastard Tories and ride roughshod over everyone.
First of all Vince 'Totally Unable' Cable told the GMB Union conference here that if they - or any other union - were thinking of taking strike action because of the fucking mess the Bastard Coalition is making of all public services then he'd take dire action to try and stop them. Needless to say those at the conference heckled and booed and told Vince to go fuck himself. I'm right in there if the Bastard Coalition try to ban any strike, comrades!
Then The Man With No Mandate LibDem Scottish Minister Michael 'Fuck Off Back To London' Moore said that even if Scotland voted for independence in a referendum then there would have to be a second UK referendum to see if Scotland would become independent. Of course the MSPs here in Scotchland were incenced and told Moore to 'shut the fuck up', 'you don't have a clue about what you're saying' and 'I'm going to chib that wee cunt'.
Cable and Moore, a couple of LibDem twats. Cable's up for the firing squad, come the Great Revolution but Moore's getting a kick in the fanny for being stupid. And having one of those freakshow big heads...

Killer Beansprouts: We Were Only Following Orders

2011-06-05T19:20:00.004+01:00

Gaaaahhhh! Now it's the fault of der beansprouten sweinhunds, those evil bastards responsible for the Bastard E-Colis that make you shit yourself to death. When will people realise that it's not cucumbers or beansprouts or any other defenceless vegetable that are responsible for the terrifying new strain of Killer E-Coli but this shit (literally):

Someone, somewhere is responsible for growing whatever 'organically'. They've done this in order to make their produce seem more natural to gullible hippies and middle class mums with nothing better to do than worry about the horrors of battery farmed asparagus and to be able to charge about three times the cost of non-organic stuff. EU directives state that all farmers have to do to be able to label their produce 'organic' is to spray them with liquid shit. Probably. And--voila! New form of e-coli and people dropping faster than Katie Price's knickers when there's talk of a new TV reality show...

FuckShitCockAssholeMotherfuckerBonerBarbaraStreisand

2011-06-04T17:12:00.003+01:00

You'd think that the last place on earth to ban swearing in public (and thereby eroding the human right to freedom of swea...er...speech) would be somewhere in Oz, renowned for its genteel and conservative culture, but no. The Sydney Morning Herald has got this shit online.
I seem to remember that when the SNP and Wee Fat Eck got elected first time round in 2007 they proposed something similar, to curtail the foulmouthed scumbags - or 'tourists' - that infest the streets of our esteemed capital city until Eck and his Bods realised that 'fuck' in Spanish or German or Whatever isn't pronounced 'fuck'. Turns out it was us indigenous scumbags that were doing all the fucking swearing and, not wanting to rock the boat or 'get re-elected in 2011', the SNP government did fuck all (see 'trams' and 'minimum pricing on alcohol' for further details).
Of course, it's preposterous to try and fine people for swearing in public. If you had Tourette's syndrome you'd he housebound for the rest of your life, for fuck sake...

It takes a child's wisdom to show the rest of the world how ludicrous it can let itself become, the stupid fucking assholes...

Stop With The Horse Fucker Shit Already

2011-06-03T16:49:00.004+01:00

There are some weirdo fucknuts out there in Internetland. Just stop gloollooing 'horse fucker' and then you won't find yourself here. Instead of horse porn.
Anyway, the counter hit the 24,000 mark and someone else joined the ranks of De-evolverS. Hello to you. That makes 16 or something (I don't know - I stopped looking years ago at the number who were following). Still it's more interesting that there's roughly the same number who've started following then left again because of something I might have said. If you don't want to read about dead celebs or fucking annoying coffin dodgers or people who fuck horses then don't read this blog. So, to those who have left the ranks here's a personal message:

I remember some dickhead photographer who informed me that I had to follow his frankly yawnfest of shit blog because he was following De-evolvinG. I told him to fuck off and he did! Then there was the guerrilla gardener who left after I likened the midden-raking lot to the Viet Cong, the one who left after I slagged Ingerlund off for getting well gubbed at the World Cup, various religious types and some other cavemen and assorted tramps. Good fucking riddance..!

Killer Bacteria Makes You Shit Blood...

2011-06-02T21:24:00.003+01:00

Aarrgghh! Those bastard e-colis have gone mutant and come up with one that's highly resistant (which ones aren't nowadays?) to antibiotics and which produces a toxin that makes you shit blood until you died in a mush of bloody shitty goo. And of course the world goes fucking mental when all you need to do to prevent yourself shitting out your kidneys is to wash your hands and don't eat anything organic or shaped like a cucumber. The Russians have banned all EU veggies, the Spanish want compo from the Germans, the Germans are dropping like flies and the lab rat on the Channel 4 news tonight advised boiling your veggies before eating them. Boiled lettuce, anyone?Dirty wee bacteria bastards....Anyway, I hope that this is the final 'killer....' because I'm bored with it. I was going to do a 'Killer Horse Fucker' but I can't think of an angle. Anyway, I'd just be pandering to those weirdos out there who Gogogoolo 'horse fucker', hoping to indulge in some bizarre masturbatory fantasy, only to find themselves reading about Derek 'Horse Fucker' Woods on this esteemed blog instead. Those two posts have more than a thousand hits between them. I'd like to think that it's because they're fucking hilarious but I'm sure it's down to sick perverts looking for horse porn. Sad people...

Killer Old Geezers In Killer Cars

2011-06-01T20:31:00.004+01:00

Continuing the killer theme today is this hilarious story of some old geezer reversing his car over his missus in a posh old golf club in coffin-dodger infested Newton Mearns, possibly the poshest part of Glasgow. Obviously killing your missus just by reversing over her isn't as easy as it sounds - he must have been doing about 50 in reverse in that car park to really have thumped her, or maybe he drove over her a few times in his fog of senility. Maybe he traded in the Volvo for a WW2 German Panzer tank. Anyway.
Anyway indeed. Now that the wife's out of the way, tragically killed in an old-fart-behind-the-wheel driving 'accident' and the cheque from the insurance company's nestling in the bank account it seems only fair to carry on living life to the fullest. It's what she would have wanted. Now, bring on the drugs and prostitutes!!!

Killer Train Toilets

2011-05-30T16:29:00.004+01:00

Hot on the heels of yesterday's killer cucumbers comes killer toilets. The Health Protection Agency - whose job it is to find out how manky shite is then moan about it - have just reported that the bogs on your average train might or might not contain the Legionella bacteria. Legionella of course is famous for killing tonnes of coffin dodgers in hotels but for some fucked up reason it's also been found in the water system in some trains, like this one.
However, a spokesperson for the HPA stated that there's no cause for concern because there's little chance of getting Legionella from train bogs, unless you drink the water in the bog. And if you're the sort of person who likes to drink the water in train bogs then you're probably the sort of person who likes to shove e-coli infected cucumbers up their bum.
Anyway. Legionella's got no chance of surviving your average train bog, judging by the pic above. It's got to survive the onslaught from piss, shit, vomit, blood, semen, slobber, more shit and pus. Yum.

Killer Spanish Cucumbers

2011-05-29T21:35:00.004+01:00

You don't often find a headline like this in the BBC news pages but blow me there's quite a few today, like this one. Seems like organic Spanish cucumbers - infected with e-coli - are bumping off people in Germany. OK, you might think, it's only Germans or serves them right for bombing Guernica but the salient point here is that e-coli is the bacteria associated with manky pups who don't wash their hands after going for a shit (like the inhouse bakers in Morrisson's do but that's another completely defamatory story). Of course the answer is to thoroughly wash your cucumber (or don't eat the fucking things in the first place) before you eat it because you just don't know where it's been...Bryce Curdy, anyone?
Fans of De-evolvinG might recall that I told my Bryce Curdy story some time ago (and it's a fucking beezer) so they'll get the reference. Those who don't - let me just say that one fateful night back in 1988 a certain soon-to-be-sacked TV presenter presented himself at a certain A&E department in Glasgow with a cucumber well and truly lodged up his arse. After many hours of painful cucumber extraction we sent Br...er...Mr X on his way with his cucumber and some advise to wash it before eating it in case he got the e-colis...

Scientists Prove That Not Having Cancer Prevents Death From Cancer

2011-05-27T20:08:00.003+01:00

Sometimes you really have to wonder if modern science knows its arse from its arse, particularly when you come across piffle like this crap. Fucking lab rats claim that (a) if you have prostate cancer and (b) go for a walk a couple of times a week then you (c) live a bit longer but (d) ultimately you die in agony. And they've also made a link with drinking coffee and living longer or that might just be a load of old bollocks too.

The survival rate of life is exactly 0% and no amount of scientifically-endorsed brisk walks or cups of coffee will ever change that. Why the fuck do people waste time and money coming up with bollocks like this crap? Surely they should be working on drugs that make you happy and lively for about 6 hours or a disease that targets only Fat Tory Arseholes?

That'll Be Three Hundred Thousand Pounds Please, Mister Salmond

2011-05-26T20:15:00.004+01:00

Now that Wee Fatty Salmond and the Nats control Scotland they've set out their agenda for their term in office. Top of the list (which strangely doesn't include Scottish nationalism - maybe they should change their name to the Scottish Sorry We Forgot The Bit About Nationalism Party...anyway) is booze (make it free, for fuck sake) and football hooliganism of the sectarian type.
Wee Eck wants to end hundreds of years of sectarian violence between the Tims and the Huns and I suppose to a lesser extent here in Scotchville the Jambos and the Hibees. Of course he's got nae fuckin' chance but I think I've got the solution. All I'll need for the three minutes or so it took me to find this clip is about £300K in extortionate consultancy fees. OK, so the clips not mine but I thought about posting it here. Eh? EH?

Cut off the goolies! Drown the streets in a sea of dismembered testicles! CUT THEM OFF!!!

The Tories Supporting Right Wing Christian Extremist Fucknuts? Are You Sure?

2011-05-25T15:22:00.004+01:00

Yes...
...Today's top news - despite the media coverage of Lapdog Cameron shoving his toffee nose up Obama's arse - is that The Bastard Coalition have draughted in a pro-life bunch of fucknuts to 'advise' them on sexual health. I think we can all guess what their advice is going to be...One of The LIFE organisation's things is to preach to stupid weans that you can't get pregnant if you don't have sex....The obvious exception is the Virgin Mary but I'm sure they skip over that bit in case one of the sex-crazed teenies they're trying to indoctrinate into their medieval bullshit cottons on and then goes and has a shag....

It's A Bit Windy

2011-05-24T16:05:00.006+01:00

Which, if you've been in Scotchland over the past 24 hours, you'll know is understated. It's the fucking Windy Apocalypse out there. I live next to a cemetery and the wind's been so strong it's been disinterring the stiffs. I had to venture outside yesterday for essential supplies (beer) and was shitting myself walking along the nearby tree-lined cycle path as branches and stuff flew about like something out of that Wizard of Oz shit. I have to go out later so I've spent the day fashioning an armoured hat so that a flying tree, wee dug, old wumman, etc etc doesn't stave my head in, thank you very much.
Still. You have to look on the bright side, like watching all my moany-arsed, greetin'-faced neighbours chasing their fucking wheelie bins up the street or disentangling their cat from a bush or something AND it should blow that bloody volcanic ash cloud to fuck too. Maybe Norway even back to bloody Iceland...

Ken Clarke: Misguided Fool Or Fat Tory Dick?

2011-05-19T10:59:00.004+01:00

Hhhmmm. Tough one that. Anyway, thanks to Ken and his comments about some rapes not being as rapey as other types of rape I'm now assuming that if I was wanting to indulge in some rape that if I did so in a five-star hotel bedroom with good food and fine wine it wouldn't be as bad a rape in a shit-filled ditch.
Hands up if you're a fat Tory dick....you only need to put one hand up, Ken....Now, if anyone needed proof that your average fat Tory dick lives in fucking LaLaLand you only have to read ken's views on rape. What a dick...

The REAL Reason The Unemployment Figure In Scotland Fell Today

2011-05-18T20:39:00.003+01:00

According to the Statistic Monkeys who ~~lie like fuck~~ work for the Bastard Coalition in London Village, somehow the number of unemployed people in Scotland has miraculously fallen. Of course the Evil Tory Bastards and their LibDem Minions will say stuff like 'it's due to our policies', 'we've worked tremendously hard to achieve this' or 'we don't give a flying fuck about the Scotch' whereas the REAL reason can be revealed, thanks to this leaked video:

Crap Jokes: An Update

2011-05-04T10:36:00.004+01:00

May the fourth be with you.......B'dum-dum-tissshhhhhhh....
Aaaarrggghhh....no more crap jokes......

Murdering Cop Bastards: An Update

2011-05-03T17:03:00.003+01:00

Today's ruling that Simon Harwood - the cop who murdered completely innocent passerby Ian Tomlinson during the G20 protests in 2009 - 'unlawfully killed' him by (as the fucking BBC keep stating) 'pushing him' is a complete and utter piece of shit.
There's plenty of footage on You Tube that shows Harwood attacking Tomlinson. Bollocks that he's a polis (a lackey of all those banker cunts). If he wasn't in his polis uniform he'd be in the pokey by now. The fact that he's a bastard polis has kept his murdering polis arse out of prison (and the grasp of lots of polis-in-prison-raping-mental-cunts). It's a fucking bastard shit system that protects those who protect them.Cop uniform or not: Harwood is a murderer. Bang him up! And that's not because I'm a polis-hating-for-a-fucking-good-reason sort of chap. I got fucking well done up by the polis - fucking well twice (and 100% completely innocent) - and it does absolutely no good to complain because these turds close ranks tighter than when they have to face rioting pensioners or whoever they like to batter with their sticks and batons and such. They're a' basturts...

April 29th

2011-04-29T11:29:00.005+01:00

If they hadn't poisoned and/or shot themselves on the 30th of April those delightful Hitlers - Eva and Adolf - would be celebrating their 66th wedding anniversary today. And in keeping with the tradition set down by the Hitlers all the royals get married on the 29th of April, just like Prince Baldy and his soon-to-be-mysteriously-killed-in 2025-bride Kate Wotsit, now Princess Kate Hitler.
The clock's ticking on Princess 'Lucky' Kate Hitler. She's got fourteen years left on the meter before she suffers the same fate as basket case Di, who, after squeezing out a couple of royal sprogs, went doo-lally and grassed the whole lot of the royals on the telly (and not even the BBC) for being Nazis before she got murdered. If I were Kate I'd just shut the fuck up, talk to no-one and never, ever, ever go to Paris...

It's Good To Be A King

2011-04-27T12:42:00.004+01:00

Personally I've nothing against Prince Baldy and his soon-to-be-deid-in-fourteen-years-time-wife Kate Wotsit but when you read stuff like this it makes me want to vomit.
Yes, when Oor Wullie gets to be king he can legally come into your home, shoot yer dug, fuck yer grannie, eat yer dinner and then have a shit on yer couch and you can do fuck all about it.
So. He really can mow down people with a machine gun and he doesn't pay any taxes, the jammy cunt.
When you think about it it's all a big pile of bollocks. And whether or not King Wullie would actually do anything on the Guardian's list of Shit The King Can Do is probably not going to happen. Apart from the murder thing. You see, when Kate's squeezed out a few sprogs that don't have the trademark royal congenital defects and she's well past her prime King Baldy'll want shot so he can bang some other lovely tottie. In about 2025, I reckon. Tunnel in Paris version 2.0...

Anonymity: An Update

2011-04-25T13:03:00.005+01:00

Don't you just hate those spiteful little twats who blog or tweet or comment on forums anonymously? The ones who say things like 'you're a twat' or 'do you know what the fuck you're talking about?' or 'I'm actually a friendless fucknut with absolutely nothing better to do that sit here in my torn underwear writing uninformed bullshit and/or vitriolic nobbery because it's this or else I'm going to kill myself'?
Have the balls to show your face if you're one of the bazillions of gimps, cowards, bell-ends, fannies and other assorted sweaty-arsed facial disasters who have crappy wee avatars and gobshite names like 'Mr_Mysterio' or 'TheSwordOfTruth' or whatever. Having recently been the 'victim' of some anonymous little fucker's displeasure just because I mentioned that Kristian Digby died while having a wanking/choking session I would just like to remind everyone that my name's right up there in the address bit, so if you want to have a go then leave your fucking name...!

Right Wing Fucknuts: An Update

2011-04-23T15:10:00.007+01:00

If you're a devoted reader of De-evolvinG then you might know that I'm not a fan of right wing politics, but that I'm interested in what they have to say even though it's all a pile of shit. With the upcoming election to the Parly here in Scotchville coming up I was a little saddened to see that both the British Nazi Party and even the English Defense League Of Idiots And Assorted Cavemen had decided not to put up candidates. However I was much gladdened to see on the BBC the other evening a party 'political' broadcast by these twats, and my faith that a supposed enlightened people like the Scotch could come up with a bunch of rock-bashing, knuckle-dragging fucknuts was restored.
Yes, the broadcast by the Scottish Kitchen Party was - if you've seen it or even watched it via their link - wasn't really a political broadcast to stir up support but more of a rant against the vilest of creatures imaginable (if you're a Scotch Kitchenist) - homosexuals. Forget the economy or taxation or war, the NHS, education, or the International Squirrel Conspiracy - according to the Scotch Kitchen Party those gays are eroding the very fabric of our Scotch and Kitchen society. I mean (according to the Kitchens) homosexuals are being allowed into hotels....The Scotch Kitchen Party are missing the point completely. According to them (and their frankly offensive 'manifesto') it's OK to be a retarded, stone age Kitchen but woe fucking betide anyone who wants to have anal sex with someone of the same gender. I'm not a scholar but according to Family Guy it's OK to have anal sex as long as it's with a woman. Or a donkey. Anyway. Bloody Scotch Kitchens are just a bunch of party-pooping retards, lead by some 'charismatic' gobshite, hellbent on 'cleansing' the earth of all the people who don't agree with their medieval claptrap nonsense (which is most of us, thank fuck)...

I Was Grassed Up By 'Anon'

2011-04-22T14:33:00.004+01:00

As some of you may know and might even care, some time ago I was 'forced' by those despotic nobs at Gggole to 'remove' a post about a rapist London taxi driver because one of his victims read it and was 'distraut at my callows humour' (their simian-like spelling). So, not wanting to feel guilt or something akin to guilt I deleted it without any comment or reference to it. It caused such an uproar that to this date NO-ONE has noticed or commented or anything. Thanks for taking an interest.
Last week Oollgogo suspended my account (which meant I couldn't access my Boolger account) because some 'anon' cunt moaned about my two references to Kristen Digby and the indisputable fact that he died while spanking his spicy boner. After four days Loogoole said that I was now able to access my account again, but offered no explanation.
To my knowledge there hasn't been anyone who's account has been suspended because some anon cunt moaned about the content of their blog. And I've had some pretty harsh comments made on this blog and even some scary emails (I don't share my email address with you mad Christian cunts no more) but some 'anon' can have my account suspended? Bullshit.
So for all 'anon' twats out there: I'm not some anonymous fuck who bitches about their work colleagues, friends, neighbours etc etc. My name's right up there in the web address bit. And big fucking deal if I rip the piss out of cunts like Cameron and squirrels, but the big thing that anon fuckwits miss is that this is supposed to be IRONIC. I had a couple of months last summer when some tree hugging gimps were harrassing me because I had a go at Glasgow's bin-raking, midden-loving Guerilla Gardening Idiots and spent some not inconsiderable time constantly reminding them that I was being IRONIC. Fuck sake.OK so it's not a particularly funny pic but it's the best I could be bothered to come up with. I hope whatever humourless retard took the time and effort to grass me up to Goggle takes time from their own Dangerous Wanking Obsession, removes whatever small furry creatures they've got up their arse, waliks blinking into the daylight and straight in front of a bus or bin lorry or fast-moving big motorised thing. Twat.

Pop Ups Get Right On My Nips: An Update

2011-04-18T15:50:00.024+01:00

Annoying fucking pop ups account for most of the anger I have - fucking Vodafone bees, pills for erectile dysfunction and all those charities for weans who are dying because they drink contaminated water (hint: don't drink contaminated water but I'm happy to admit I might be missing the point here), but now this one for some fucking stupid dancing crap right at home on yer X Box (available for people who can't afford a proper console like a PS3): Dance Central.
Brought to you by the dicks who brought you the pointless 'learn how to play a guitar by using a big plastic piece of shit rather than an actual guitar' Guitar Retard, you dance about like a tool with a cattle prod up your arse while trying to get all the correct moves 'down' before the prod explodes and sends your colon into orbit. If you like it 'rad' you can have competitions with X Box generated avatars with names like 'Cunto', 'Miss Carrie' and 'Prince Monkey Sputum'.
Rather than going out to a club with your mates (providing you have any) and say, dancing with real people you can get jiggy in your gran's front room; Dance Central Retard provides all your solitary dance needs...

Just another pointless interactive replacement for something software manufacturers churn out. I can't wait to see their range for 2011: 'Iron Lung Retard' for people who can't be bothered breathing in real life and have to be motivated by collecting gold coins; 'Incontinent Retard' for people who are bursting for a shit but have regressed to the age of a four month old wean thanks to lack of natural daylight and human contact and have forgotten how to poo; 'Evil Nasty Bastard Nazi Killing Retard' for people who want to assume the role of some Mercan GI during WW2 and go on the rampage, indiscriminately killing Germans and anyone else who gets in the way of your Thompson....Actually that last one sounds promising....

Dave Dasterdly Is A Cunt: An Update

2011-04-14T14:38:00.006+01:00

He's still a cunt.

Seriously though. Today good ol' homeboy and man of the people Dave 'David' Dasterdly 'Cameron' Cunt has been going on about the number of 'immigrants' coming into the UK and has been talking of 'reducing' the number from 'hundreds' of thousands to 'bugger all'. Now, if you were to swap the word 'immigrants' with 'Jews' and 'reducing' with 'Final Solution' and 'Dave' with 'Adolf'....you can see where I'm going with this one...

Nice to know that the rest of the planet thinks that we're fronted by some floppy-cocked, public school bumboy, piece-of-shit little fucking lightweight fascist turd. He really is a cunt. A two-faced, lying, useless wanker of a cunt who's policies are fucking stupid and reckless and ripping out the heart of the country. Vince Cable should hoof the cunt in the baws but I'm pretty sure Cameron hasn't got any baws to hoof....

Poor Wee Dumb Animal. And There's A Squirrel In There Too...

2011-04-13T10:59:00.004+01:00

Here's a link to some video made by some noisy fucking weans in some school somewhere in MercaLand. If you're of a nervous disposition or can't stand greetin'-faced weans screaming or grown-ups shouting 'officer!' or stuff then I suggest caution. It deals with a highly contentious issue: do you gas them before you stomp them to death or are the polis really that fucking stupid? The answer is yes. To both....

Huh. If It Had Been A Guy He'd Be Sharing A Cell With Tommy Sheridan and Fat Turd Jim Devine

2011-04-08T20:22:00.004+01:00

I'm all for equality between the sexes. I think wummin should be able to pay for their round in the pub and going haufers on the curry at The Nippin Erse Authentic Indian Cuisine Palace. But I can't help feeling that when it comes to domestic violence perpetrated by wummin that they get treated more leniently than guys who do the same. And just in case you don't think domestic violence against men doesn't exist - it fucking well does. I lived with some old alkie hoor who used to thump me. Anyway.

So when some mad wummin tries to strangle you with a loofah (improbable but she did) does she get the pokey? Does she fuck. What about a fine? Community service? None of that boring shite. Bassett hound lookalike and loofah-wielding maniac Angela Jones got two fucking years probation which amounts to fuck all. I'm sure if the roles had been reversed and the guy attacked her instead then he'd be up to his arse in shit.

A saggy-faced dug and a bassett hound...er...that's wrong...an old hound and a bassett...no, wait...er...a mutt and...er...fuck, I'm confusing myself here...Anyway. Angela Bassett...er...Jones, who attacked her wee nancy boy boyfriend with a loofah didn't get done at all for domestic violence or GBH or assault and Got Away With It Cos She's A Wummin. Anyway, apparently someone took away her chew toys as punishment...no...that's not right either....she's not allowed on the couch....bad dug...er...

Squirrels: They're A' Basturds But Delicious Too: An Update

2011-04-07T13:30:00.004+01:00

As I'm sure you're all well aware, squirrels are a' basturds. Thieving wee rodent basturds. But now it seems that not only are they basturds etc etc - they're also delicious. I know people have been eating bastard squirrels for yonks but here in the wilds of Scotchland news travels very slowly, particularly if you work for the BBC and have a pal who owns a bistro in Scotchville.

What worries me though is that the SSPCA don't give a shit about killing and eating squirrels as long as they're done in 'humanely', which I take means not stomping on them in the Botanics to the horror of twee mums'n'weans and Chinese tourists. Fucking polis chased me for ages...

Ha ha ha ha ha etc etc. I'd just to thank the sick fucko who staged this photo - it's class. Though, if you look at it for long enough the squirrel might not be dead. It's doesn't particularly look post-mortemy enough. I think the 'artist' who staged this might have given Nibbles (I've decided to kill him 'Nibbles') some peanuts laced with diazepam or something, then laid him out to look all dead-like then having his Action Men/GI Joes stand over him like fucked-up big game hunters...

Thieving, Lying, Bullying Ex-MP And Fat Turd Jim Devine Gets The Pokey: An Update

2011-03-31T11:21:00.005+01:00

Thieving. Lying. Bullying. Fat Turd. Yes, ex-MP and thoroughly disgraced fat turd Jim Devine has (much to my own personal pleasure and amusement, the fat turd) been sentenced to eighteen months in the pokey for stealing money from the public purse then lying about it in court. As it happens he's also a bully and a fat turd. But don't just take my word for it - those bastions of truth at the BBC have also pigeonholed Jimbo as a thieving, lying bully too, though I suspect they're not so hot with the fat turd label in case the thieving, lying bullying ex-MP and fat turd sues them for defamation. If I were the BBC I'd be more than happy to take the fat turd on in a defamation case. The fat turd.Greetin' faced fat turd Jimbo has claimed that it's unfair to send his fat arse to the pokey because he's got high blood pressure (most likely brought on by his obesity, the fat turd) and because the whole I-got-nicked-for-stealing-public-money malarkey has made him unwell, the poor wee lamb and fat turd. Tough shit. I hope he gets buggered to death in the pokey. On a personal note I'd just like to add my own 'ha ha ha ha ha! fat turd!' Nothing personal...

Plugging Yourself And/Or The Shit You Do: An Update

2011-03-30T11:13:00.007+01:00

Total fucking waste of time since self-plugging on this blog has netted me the grand total of FUCK ALL Duality books sold. I have to actually work to sell them... So, having to get out there to sell books leads me to all sorts of places and events, like this one which the good people at The Guardian (other bumhole rags are available) have been good enough to plug. Yes, the fiery heat and potential bloodfest that is a...poetry slam. Don't fucking knock it until you've actually seen it or even (if your balls are big and hairy enough) taken part. It's scarier than waking up in bed next to deflated balloon lookalike Fern 'Gastric Band' Britton, another one of Channel 4's Line Up Of Shit. Anyway. So, instead of spending ANOTHER Wednesday evening planning the perfect murder or doing your feet, why not come along to the Banshee Labyrinth (Niddry Street, Edinburgh) at 7pm and lend your support by throwing underwear or money at me while I 'perform'. Then you can all form an orderly queue and buy some Duality books (I might even discount them for you).

Horse Fucker Derek Woods: An Update

2011-03-21T16:50:00.004Z

Derek Woods, the guy who was given a measly supervision order in January for fucking horses, has probably been sticking to the conditions of his supervision order because he's not been in the news recently for fucking any more horses.

In order to protect the innocent the above image has been altered a bit, viz: it's probably not Horse Fucker Derek Woods because the guy in this pic isn't fucking the horse - it looks like the horse might be performing some sort of oral sex procedure; and it's not a horse anyway - it's a pony or some wee sort of horse. Nevertheless I'd like to reiterate that once you get the name of Horse Fucker it's very difficult to shake it off. No matter how many years of intense psychological treatment and/or contraptions on his cock and balls that prevent him from fucking horses, Horse Fucker Derek Woods will always be known as Horse Fucker Derek Woods, the guy who fucks horses.

Useless Bastard Coalition Bastards: An Update

2011-03-16T19:45:00.004Z

Lying, two-faced bastard and seller-out of principles just so's he can get to be the next Prime Minister if some terrible tragedy befell Dave Dasterdly Nick 'Clegg' Clogg has been on the telly to remind us that the LibDems are fucking great. He based this reasoning on a few basic principles: (a) they're not on the political right; (b) they're not on the political left; (c) they're 'liberals'. He also mentioned the good work done by some noteworthy Liberals such as David Lloyd George (died in 1945) and Anuerin Bevan (who was a Labour MP). Seems that being a complete dick as well as a lying backstabbing cunt who used to go to Eton is a prerequisite for being the most despised political figure since Mad Maggie Thatcher.

But he's not having everything all his own fucked-up way. Evil troll and Foreign Minister William 'Ugly Wee Troll Creature Thing' Hague has been in the news for sharing a bed in a hotel with his nineteen year old male PA (allegedly) but not having any gay sex at all, as well as generally fucking everything up like today's not letting an international rescue team based in Glenrothes help in the aftermath of the Japanese earthquake, and just being an ugly wee dried-up shite who represents us all on the world stage.

Dave Dasterdly just talks a load of shite whenever he gets his mug on the telly, but to help him if he were to read this fucking great blog, here's a quick list of your coalition's achievements since May 2010:

Blaming the Labour government for everything: every opportunity for blaming everything on the previous Labour government is just about passed its sell-by date.

VAT: that's your fault.

Soaring price of fuel: that's up to you too...

Unemployment: highest level since 1996. Coincidentally the last time the bloody Tories were in power...

Massive public spending cuts: er....you. Thanks to the Bastard Coalition there's 95% less public lavs, 45% less public libraries, 70% less public swimming pools, 20% less teachers, 30% less polis, 40% less soldiers, sailors and the guys who fly stuff; 30% less doctors and nurses etc etc etc.

Apart from the rise in VAT, the massive rise in fuel costs, the annihilation of public services, rising unemployment, student tuition fees that are so prohibitive only the wealthy will be able to afford to go to university, strikes, riots, propping up a rotten banking system....what have the Tories ever done for us?

Old People Are Annoying: Update

2011-03-09T13:17:00.005Z

There's absolutely fuck all I can add to the shopping basket marked, 'Old People Are Annoying', except maybe this: Some years ago I was providing a free taxi service for the nearly departed who were attending one of my many ex's mother's 70th birthday or some other oldie gangbang. Anyway. Needless to say I spent the day ferrying the old bastards hither and thither while remaining completely 100% sober and starving to death while the old cunts gobbled up the wee sandwiches and easy-to-chew trifle, washed down with copious amounts of cheap sherry and embalming fluid. It was only when I finally dropped off the final merry gerry and was on route back to pick up my soon-to-be-next-ex when I noticed that my car was beginning to reek of piss...Yes, one of the old bastards had pissed themselves in my car and my passenger seat became a no-go zone for a month while I spent every available hour and piss-removing product trying to remove the old dear's departing gift. Needless to say not one of those ungrateful old bastards said thank-you, let alone slip me a fiver for petrol. I hope they're all warming their manky piss-streaked arses in Hell...

Kristian Digby: Update

2011-03-02T11:24:00.004Z

Yesterday was the first anniversary of the death of Kristian Digby (who died while having a wank or something). As well as being by far the most popular post on this esteemed blog it just seems appropriate that I should post an update on the dead gay icon and auto erotic asphyxiation gone fatally wrong aficionado.

In the aftermath of gay Kristian's death lay a lot of shit, apparently. His mother is supposed to be completely fucking Radio Rental and was estranged from her TV celeb gay icon son but nevertheless took it upon her mentally deranged self to arrange some tasteful tribute instead of letting Kristian's long term partner do something together with all his bum chums and stuff. Needless to say, mayhem ensued but that's boring. What isn't boring is that when la Digby was finally flung into a big hole in the ground it was a plot overlooking a place called Cockington. Make up your own punchline.

The update? He's still dead, obviously, as this artist's impression titled 'Kristian Digby 2011' clearly shows....

Me Been Loving You Long Time

2011-02-25T18:50:00.004Z

The number on the counter down there somewhere drags its arse closer and closer to 20,000. I've been writing this blog for about two and a half years now and even though I've managed to bring indescribable joy to thousands of lucky people the realisation that I'm just going over and over the same old crap hasn't gone unnoticed. Maybe you didn't notice it but I have. The phrases 'well past its sell-by date' and 'dead but he won't lie down' spring to mind.

And so the end of De-evolvinG hoves into sight. I'll be moving onto pastures new and sadly won't be giving you lot your (almost) daily dose of Scotch bile. While it's been fun laughing at the antics of all the pompous, self-promoting, egocentric and self deluded tosspots I've been happy to kick in the balls (or fanny) I have to stop.

So over the next couple of weeks while De-evolvinG chokes on its own vomit in its final death throes I'll be having a retrospective of some of my favourites from the last 30 months. Maybe some of you out there in Realityland could suggest favourites of your own or maybe not. More likely not.

So long, farewell, my dad's in the SS! Anyway, I'll still be bringing all you lucky buggers a blog but just not this one. And not so often. But just as fucking good. And maybe even with some similar features but probably not. Anyway, book your place at the wake or drop me a comment begging me to go on or asking for a favourite post to be resurrected a la Lazarus (but not a la Digby) or maybe just a kind comment or a promise of some money...

Jamie's Big Pile Of Bullshit, Part 2

2011-02-23T17:38:00.004Z

Bish bosh. Omnipresent Channel 4 porridge -stirrer and lisping Cockney gobshite Jamie 'Bish Bosh' Oliver has been given the task by his Channel 4 masters of saving the education system. So now Channel fucking 4 and bloody Oliver had come up with 'Jamie's Dream School', which is their take on how to teach the manky weans of the great unwashed masses.

Obviously they'll be teaching the fucking stupid weans proper stuff like how to watch porn on the internet without your parents finding out or maybe how to convince your 14 year old girlfriend that shagging while standing up won't get you pregnant. But no. Jamie's using his years of experience in education to come up with the following. (Sorry if Channel 4 won't let you watch this shit outside of the UK. Even more apologies if you live inside the UK and are able to see the dreadful nonsense Jamie and his crew of pinheads came up with.)

Yes, if it wasn't for being taught 'expeditions' in school I'd probably have got lost every time I set foot outside. Politics. Great. And history, taught by a fuckwit right-wing Inglesher who thinks every other country on the planet is shit compared to Ingerlund. What a pile of shite.

OK. If we put four apples in Jamie's right hand and three in the left, how funny would it be if we kicked him in the nuts? This is just complete and utter fucking cobblers, Channel 4. Fucking Oliver's on your poxy fucking channel 24/7 cooking stuff that about 75% of the population wouldn't/can't buy, like 'roasted organic sea salt'. What next? Jamie's Open Heart Surgery? Jamie Flies A Space Shuttle? Pah.

Wait A Minute Mister Postman....

2011-02-20T15:20:00.005Z

The news that the invitations for Prince Baldy and Diana Mark II's wedding have been sent out has got me camping out in the hall, right underneath the letterbox. Obviously being the original author of the 'Kate Middleton To Die In Car Accident Circa 2026' conspiracy theory has earned me my invite. The royals will be wanting me there to give a speech or something to explain how I came up with the idea which has subsequently been ripped off by a succession of piss-poor 'satirical' websites and other brain-dead arsehole bloggers who are incapable of original thought.
Of course this presents the problem of what to buy the couple as a wedding gift. My first thought was to buy them fuck all and just balls it out at the reception or maybe even say that Amazon lost it in the post or something. Then I realised that not only would I be getting to go to the wedding but the reception and the post-reception Big Nosh Up, not to mention all the free fizz and that crappy buffet stuff that the fat bird who was in Men Behaving Badly punts on the telly whenever M&S wants to cash in on the two teeny-weeny crepes for a tenner scam. then it struck me: Argos.

I know they'll get lots of posh, useless tat like that stuff you use to polish crowns or a voucher for one hit by a leather-clad assassin on a motorbike, but do you think they'll have a matching pair of fuchsia-coloured plastic lamps? No fucking way and I'm in there first! And they only cost six quid. For the fucking pair. Result. And don't tell anyone but when I'm at the wedding I'm nicking fucking anything I can flog on EBay. Get your orders in now and I'll see what I can get my hands on...

Getting Your Priorities Right

2011-02-19T15:04:00.004Z

While the citizens (slaves? serfs?) of Bahrain go apeshit for democracy or at least a wee bit of a say on how to run their oil-rich country instead of a family of inbred billionaires deciding everything, inbred billionaire Bernie 'Shortarse' Ecclestone, head of the utterly pointless and crap 'sport' of Formula One is musing on whether it would be OK to have the first F1 race of the season, next month, in Bahrain.

So while the people of Bahrain are shot at and gassed by the army and police Ecclestone and his entourage of Sycophants and other Assorted Arseholes Who Don't Live In The Real World are trying to work out if it would be 'safe' to have their multi-million pound cars driven around the streets of Bahrain by a bunch of massively overpaid and overvalued boy racers.

How about they go ahead and do it anyway, regardless of the rioting, fighting, street shooting, gassing, petrol bombs etc etc. It would make the whole fucking stupid spectacle slightly less fucking pointless and reeking of rich-people-with-nothing-better-to-do-that-drive-extremely-expensive-cars-around-posh-tracks. Dodge those bullets! Skid around those burning corpses! Motherfuckers!

Driving a fucking car is NOT a fucking sport! It's pointless shit! AND, citizens of the UK and licence-fee payers - the BBC pays this stunted little cunt £30 million a year just so a handful of twats can watch it at 3am on BBC1, the same BBC cunts who think it's 'value for money'. And just so you know - 81 year old Bernie is 154 cm short, and astounding 30cm less than his 184cm tall wifie. I wonder what she sees in the multi-billionaire 81 year old partially mummified heart-diseased cursed-by-gypsies asthmatic accident-prone Bernie?

Cough Up

2011-02-17T17:23:00.004Z

Jim Morrison (no relation to the long-dead Doors variety) made his fortune from mobile phones. So much so that he could splash £50,000 on a holiday for his missus. Unfortunately Jim couldn't keep his hands off the birds and his wife divorced him, and demanded £20 million in the settlement. Serves him right for fucking about, but that's not the point.

Jim and his missus both applied for and got legal aid, despite both being well and truly fucking minted. Jim's lawyer said that Jim was skint because he'd 'given all his money away', which is lawyerspeak for 'no he didn't he's hidden the lot somewhere so he doesn't have to give anything to his ex'. The wifie's legal team said Jim had fucked off to the US taking all the dough with him and leaving the ex with bugger all. So both were granted free taxpayer-funded legal aid.

Then the judge - having assessed Jim's financial state - awarded the ex £1.6m because Jim could afford it. Jim has to 'live' on a pension fund which pays him £700,000 a year, the poor wee soul.

And still some fucking numpty cunt saw fit to award the pair legal aid. MSPs in the Parly have been so outraged that one of them even said something along the lines of' '...sorry I was sleeping there...' One rule for the rich and fuck all for the poor.

Jim Morrison, divorced by his ex for shagging about. He had to cough up £1.6 million in the settlement and despite living on a huge fucking pension was awarded free legal aid. I suppose Poor Jim has still got enough dosh left in his kitty to pay back his legal aid. Maybe his ex could manage something from her one point six million too. Somehow I fucking doubt it...

How Could This Happen?

2011-02-16T17:28:00.004Z

In a country where human rights are a bit non-existent and state executions are carried out in public, where the state dictates how many horrible sprogs you're allowed to drop and what sort of porn you can or can't watch on the internet, where dissent, demonstrations and any form of opposition is regarded as treason and punishable by all sorts of nasty shit, where pollution is rampant and coal-fuelled power stations are going up faster than the numbers of unemployed in the UK, this shit is allowed to happen.

Maybe it's because the Chinese aren't allowed to feel anger or anything for the stuff like human rights and state interference in the internet that they get angry at some twat who's taught a couple of manky wee fish to do the same sort of pointless shit that synchronised swimmers think is so fucking aesthetically pleasing and a great form of entertainment. Personally speaking I think it's great that someone came up with the idea to get goldfish to do tricks. I mean, what other fucking point do they serve? You go out and buy a wee tank, gravel, a pump, food, wee goldfish toys and what thanks do you get? Fuck all. And then the wee bastards die. Useless.

Never let it be said that I pass up on the chance to make racists slurs. Frogs, Dagos, Welshies, Bogtrotters, Fat Yanks, Bastard English, Der Germanlanders and now the Chinks. And before you start complaining about the terrible racist depiction of Charlie Chink this is a self-adhesive 'Chinaman Moustache', made in China. Are the Chinese such money-grabbing capitalist lackeys that they'll stoop to such a low level of self-depreciation? Ying ting tong.

Jamie's Big Pile Of Bullshit

2011-02-13T19:46:00.005Z

We all know Jamie Oliver is an annoying gobshite and that Channel Four is hell-bent on having the Cockney git on every single one of their fucking programmes. But having to watch Jamie's Thirty Minute Meal or whatever shite it is is just plain fucking annoying.

First of all we all know the cunt doesn't make all the self-professed loveliness in less that thirty minutes - the fucking programme only runs for twenty six - and that he's got a team of underpaid minions who do all the work while James lisps away in the background. And it costs a fucking fortune. Check out all the gear you need for one of his 'meals' here. I worked out (I was bored, honest) that for all the ingredients for Jamie's Fucking Spring Lamb Cunt was about £130. And if I had a budget of £130 for every meal I'd eat out all the time. Fuck all the organic sea salt bollocks.

Fucking weird how the pig looks just like that other annoying cunt of a TV porridge-stirrer Gordon 'I Used To Play For Rangers So I'm Double The Cunt' Ramsey. My Better Half loves the Cockneyed One. I think he should be boiled alive. He's a fucking cook for fuck sake! What good does he do? Did he invent something or discover the cure for cancer? Did he fuck. He fries eggs for a living...

Scotchville Welcomes Careful Welshies

2011-02-11T17:30:00.004Z

Hello there to all the Welch rugby fans, up here in Scotchville to see their team get their arses ripped off by the Scotisschers at that proud old game with the balls and the running and the thinly-masked visceral violence.

Point of note, though, Welch types. Scotchville has lots of interesting attractions, like the famous Rusting Lines Running Down Princes Street, Scotchville Olde Castle and a Bookworld, as well as the breathtaking big puddle things outside the Parly building where you can fall face-down and drown after your team gets gubbed. Not forgetting the cosmoplitan beggars, Big Issue sellers and those chugger cunts.

So, with all these wonders to behold, why were there about 200 of you in Rose Street, outside Greggs? Don't you have stroke-enducing pastries in Welchland? Haven't you lot mastered the art of putting something vaguely edible between two bits of bread? Or was it because those smartfarts at Groggs marketed it as a 'piece'?

We know you Welchies are mad cunts. You don't have to dress up like fucking daffodils to prove it. Only, it has to be said, there's no way you could ever be as mental as us Scotch. We invented mental, just like we invented everything else. And, we didn't let the Bastard English conquer US. We kicked their fucking arses, just like we're going to kick yours...

To Err Is Human But To Fiddle Your Expenses, Get Caught, Lie About It Then Get Convicted Is Jim Devine

2011-02-10T13:21:00.005Z

Tabloid editors: I can write brilliant and snappy headlines. Get in touch.

Anyway, I'm glad to see fat ex-MP and thief Jim 'Fat Thief' Devine has been convicted of the euphemistically-titled crime of 'false accounting' which in plain speak means stealing. I'm happy to say that there was never such a fat thieving cunt more deserving of up to seven years in the pokey as Fat Jim 'Stealing From The Public Purse' Devine.

I remember Fat Boy Jim from my student nurse days when the not-quite-so-fat Jim was a nurse too, and a shop steward for the now-defunct Unison union. I was a steward myself and happily remember how Jim would be eager to help just himself and no-one else except perhaps his career by backstabbing everyone he knew, lying about everyone and generally being a fat, unpopular pariah who everybody fucking hated because he was a bastard of the highest order.

The day Jim resigned his post to fuck off to train as a social worker or some place else where he could exploit everyone for his own fat fuckfaced ends was a day of joyous jubilation.

With any luck Fat Jim will get sent to Barlinnie where he'll be able to converse with another disgraced ex-politician Tommy 'Hairy Arsed Liar' Sheridan. They can have a series of conversations called, 'How Stupid Can You Get?' Anyway. It's only taken twenty-odd years for me to see you get your comeuppance, you fat thieving cunt. Well worth the wait. Now I can close the file on you, Fatso...

Aw Right They Mental Jap Bampots

2011-02-09T17:25:00.005Z

Seems those crazy Japs prefer the sound of a Glasgow accent when it comes to learning English, as reported on the BBC website, those Nip bampots. Of course when you've read the article and see that the Japs only had a choice of six accents it's not really all that surprising that they picked the Glasgow one. I mean, a one in six chance. It's not as if it was a fucking proper piece of research where thousands of subjects were given dozens of choices. They could have rolled a fucking dice and still would have had he same chance. So, for any Japs wanting to learn some proper Glasgow English (an oxymoron if there ever was one) here's a few easy-to-remember phrases:

Haw: A typical greeting.

Yawright?: How are you?; how are things?

Geez yir jaiket: I seem to be robbing you...let's start with you giving me your coat.

Fuck! Erz thi polis!: Blast! The police have rubbled us! Run, chaps!

See if that wiz you that tapped uz oan yer phone am gonnae plunge ye ya cunt: There may be repercussions for you my slant-eyed chums!

See? See this guy? See how he's no' even Scoattish, no' even fae Glesga? See but he's fuckin' mental enough tae be fae Glesga cos he's wearin' a kilt an' the soaks an' that. But see if ah saw him wi ma mates? Ah'd dae him fur takin' thi pish the cheeky cunt. Nae offence but he's no takin' the pish oot me....

One Good Thing About Scotchville...

2011-02-06T17:36:00.004Z

Is that I don't have to listen to the moronic tribal street chanting from Celtic and Rangers fans after Old Firm games. Given that there's going to be a fucking almighty seven of them this season, I'm glad I'm seventy five miles along the M8 away.

My last abode in Shitebank ('Come back Luftwaffe And Finish The Job') was a prime spot for listening to the simian warblings of the Tims and Huns. Every fucking weekend they'd be out in packs like fucking marauding cavemen, looking for wee weans to pick on and empty Buckie bottles to smash. Thank fuck that the fans in Scotchville don't seem to indulge in street fighting and associated stabbing. Although, to be honest, since I've moved to Scotchville I've seen more wee neds and nedettes wearing Celtic/Rangers tops than Hibs/Hearts ones. What's that about?

Rangers and Celtic fans exchanging pleasantries during some Old Firm ding-dong. Thank fuck today's brawl was a draw - maybe then both sets of fans will shut the fuck up. Although it has to be said the ref was clearly a fucking Hun. And the assistant ref too, the one who flagged Samaras offside when he clearly wasn't, and as for sending off the Celtic goalie....What? No, I'm not biased.....

Public Libraries Are Shit But They're Better Than Nothing

2011-02-05T17:58:00.005Z

Today's news has been full of smug-arsed authors (mostly of bloody books for manky weans) greetin' about the massive closure program that's on the go which will mean the closure of hundreds of public libraries. The map here (not to be completely trusted, I think) gives a picture of the library carnage about to be unleashed.

I stopped using public libraries years ago because I was fed up paying 10p per sheet of A4 for photocopying, having limited internet access (i.e. just about fuck all access) and having nothing to read except John fucking Grisham novels or The Idiot's Guide To Windows 98. My local library is so fucking out of date that most of the books are in Latin.

And while morbidly-obese wobblebottoms who are in charge of the councils who are hacking the number of libraries bang on about having to cut libraries or cut funding to Coffin Dodgers Services or Emaciated Donkey Rescue, the people who regularly use libraries (er...coffin dodgers, mostly) are left with the prospect of nowhere to go for a free read of the paper, free heating, free toilet facilities and free access to CDs, DVDs, audio books etc etc (most of which have something to do with Catherine Cookson any fucking way). Still...

Obviously Ray meant, '...stop people reading MY books. Don't worry too much about the rubbish old people who make up about 95% of the total number of people who regularly use libraries read like stupid romance stories or crap about cowboys. I mean, what the fuck has Maeve Binchey done for culture?' I mean, does reading a Chinese takeaway menu count, or does it have to be that boring Jane Eyre shite....?

Big Wave

2011-02-04T16:54:00.010Z

Shut it Queensland. Greetin' faced kangaroo fuckers, moaning about some 'typhoon' when here in Scotchland we've had wind so severe it blew a bit of the fence in the back garden over and might have blown someone's wheelie bin over in Prestwick or something.
Seriously though the lab rats and dames in white coats at the National Oceanography Centre in Southampton in that there Ingerlund recorded huge fucking waves off the coast of Shetland right here in Bonnie Scotchland, some measuring a monster 16 metres (which is more than 52 feet for all you medieval non-metricians). A spokesman for the NOC said: 'Wow. That's fucking huge. Imagine that coming at you when you're out on your pedalo. Personally, I'd shite myself.'
Which brings to mind this wee ditty from Yank combo Jennie and Johnny, appropriately-titled Big Wave. Apologies for the lack of video here. I think Jennie and Johnnie are too fucking tight to pay some artschool student fart a couple of quid to knock one up...

Big Wave indeed. I've got a morbid fear of open places, the sea, anything that lives in the sea and anything that's made from the sea, which includes big waves. I'd be totally fucked...

I Want My Money Back

2011-02-03T17:04:00.005Z

So it cost us ten million quid for Der Pope's four day visit last September. Bad enough we have to cough up ten million just so some old Nazi can come and preach to us about things we don't give a fuck about but almost two million came from the budget for overseas aid - the sort of money earmarked for the starving weans and emaciated donkeys and stuff. For shame.

Apart from the fact that Der Pope shouldn't have even been allowed into the country, seeing as how he's the head of a huge global paedophile ring, was a member of the Nazi party and goes on about homos and proddies being evil and stuff, he managed to run up a bill of two and a quarter million quid a day. How the fuck he managed that I don't know. He must like Faberge eggs for breakfast or something.

What the fuck is the stupid old cunt wearing here? I don't think it mentions it anywhere in Der Bible that Der Pope has to dress like a scary fucking clown or a mad Santa. How anyone can take him seriously dressed like this....Oops....No-one does....Dave Dasterdly should sent the old cunt a bill for the four million or threaten to send raving homosexual and all-round unfunnyman Alan 'Speccy Guy With The Teeth' Carr on a Vatican-funded state visit to see Der Pope and all his wee wizards in return...

Hilariously Stupid Wummin Gets The Pokey

2011-02-02T20:07:00.004Z

Sometimes you come across news stories that make you shit yourself laughing, like this one courtesy of the BBC.

Emma Bent (real name) got eight months in the pokey for dumping some dead cats and stuff instead of cremating them. Seeing as how she ran a crematorium for dead pets she was in a great position to do so, but instead Stupidy Emma went and dumped the stiffs (three dugs, two cats and a guinea pig) in a field. It seems that it would have been so much simpler just to heave Mister Woofles and his dead pals into the incinerator instead of going through all the hassle of dumping the bodies. With their fucking chips still intact (I don't think the guinea pig was chipped but you never know - pet owners are fucking weirdos) so the polis could nab her.

In her defense Dafty Emma said, 'it wisnae me - ah wiz burgled and they stole the stiffs.' Why anyone (with the exception of the people who make toppings for the Meat Feast pizzas you get in Iceland) would want to break into a pet crematorium and steal a couple of deid dugs and cats is beyond me. Even Horse Fucker Derek Woods wouldn't stoop so low.

Then, just to rub salt in the wounds, the owners of all the wee furry things Numpty Emma dumped instead of burning in her custom-built Wee Furry Animal Incinerator, came to the court and said brainless things like, 'how could she treat my dog like waste?' and 'I'm on anti-depressants because of the sheer horror' and 'I'm a mad old bitch with a Yorkshire terrier fixation woof woof'. Of course the people - if they were so upset at having their deid dug burnt to a cinder - should have had the bloody thing stuffed instead, so that they would have a slightly fucked-up but more permanent reminder than a wee urn with some burnt stuff inside.

OK, so Emma Bent gets eight months for 'forgetting' to cremate a couple of manky old deid dugs and cats (and a guinea pig - don't won't to marginalise the guinea pig owners), and Tommy Sheridan gets three years for lying out of his (undoubtedly) big, hairy arse. But Horse Fucker Derek 'Horse Fucker' Woods fucks a horse and gets a namby-pamby slap on the wrist and a supervision order. The world's gone mad when simply dumping dead animals in a field, getting paid for cremating them when you didn't then lying in court is more punishable than fucking a horse. Horse Fucker Derek - you don't know you've been born...

King Kenny Coughs Up A King's Ransom For Footballing Thug

2011-02-01T17:12:00.004Z

I should write headlines for tabloids - they love a bit of alliteration. Anyway.

Liverpool FC boss Kenny 'King Kenny' Dalglish has splurged an unforgivably huge amount of dosh for a chappie called Andy Carroll (aye, I hadn't heard of him either) - a cool thirty five million quid. What Liverpool are getting for their money is a young guy with the talent and potential for being a complete waste of money and a pain in the fucking arse.

At the tender age of twenty one Carroll's already been done a couple of times for indulging in the Premier League footballer's favourite pastime of Slapping Wummin Aboot. Not content with sticking beer glasses into the faces of guys in nightclubs (he's been done for that too), fighting with his team mates, getting tanked off his arse in casinos, breaking curfew the night before a game and going awol and getting tanked while slapping wummin etc etc, he's also managed to injure himself a couple of times, most notably by falling off a barstool while on the lash. A truly class act in the style of George Best (but with lots more violence) or Paul Gascoigne (but with lots more violence) or maybe Stan Colliemore (because he liked Slapping Wummin Aboot too).

A scandalous amount of cash for a bloody footballer who's strike rate is about one goal every three games, albeit one who's got the potential for keeping third-rate tabloid journos in work for the next ten years, and a succession of gold-digging Ronseal bitches in tat for life (providing, of course, Andy doesn't go off the rails and end up being Pure Mental a la Paul Gascoigne). So when Andy's in the pokey for stabbing a darkie or scarring some bitch remember where you read it first...

My Neighbour Is An Arsehole

2011-01-31T19:05:00.003Z

The people who live in the flat below me and The Better Half are arseholes. They complain about us 'moving furniture' or 'excessive hoovering' or the telly being 'too loud'. The telly's never loud and we vacuum no more and no less that any other person. The moving furniture one was particularly annoying because we weren't moving furniture - at all - when the Fat Turd From Downstairs came up to complain. He even alluded to the fact that he could hear the Better Half and me when we're humping, the tactless nob. They even threatened to grass us up to our landlady - ooohhh...I was shitting myself....NOT.

But the biggest pain in the arse is that, every Monday after the bins are emptied (we have to take our bins from the sheds at the back of the flats out to the front so the bin dudes can empty them), Turd Face From Downstairs puts everyone's bin back in the shed except ours, which he leaves, all alone, standing at the front of the flats. How fucking petty-minded is that? Arsehole.

To the people downstairs: you're a couple of arseholes with your pointless complaining and deliberately leaving our bin. And another thing, you miserable sods - I BUY birdseed and stuff for the wee birdies and squirrels (which I fucking hate), I don't leave my fucking stale pizza crusts for them. I'm telling Bill Oddie, you cunts...

Scotchmen (And Wummin These Days) All Hing Yer Heids In Shame

2011-01-30T14:31:00.005Z

It's becoming increasingly difficult to be Scotch, what with all the bad press we're getting because of this bunch of rogues:
Andy Murray: The Big Choke. Three times a finalist (unlike the BBC's tennis 'expert' Tim 'Henman' Hill who never even got to a final so how the fuck is he in any position to criticise Greetin' Faced Andy) and three times a loser. Mon Tae Fuck. I mean we're shite a most sports (have to be bad at something, us Scotch, because we've invented everything and discovered everything) but it would be nice to win one, even if it's just for rubbing Tim Hill's fucking face in it because he won fuck all Grand Slams.
Tommy Sheridan, Working Class Hero (Third Class), in the jail because he lost the plot, believed his own hype, thought he was better than everyone else then went and had naughty sex in a Mancunian Fuck Shop, lied about it and then got done for it. Currently cooling his heels (and, some say, his arsehole too) at Her Maj's Pleasure a la Barlinnie.
Horse Fucker Derek Woods, Scotland's Shame. What can I say about Horse Fucker Derek that I didn't say yesterday without the slightest chance that Horse Fucker Derek could sue me for defamation because I mentioned that Horse Fucker Derek got done for fucking a horse? Makes you think though that lying (and we've all done it) would get you three years in the clink while fucking a horse - much like Horse Fucker Derek Woods did - only gets you a stupid supervision order and a lifelong nickname. Maybe a sad indictment on society where lying about your sex life is deemed worse than fucking a horse.
Andy Gray: One of my heroes (and by 'one of my heroes' I mean 'baldy Hun cunt who should have been put down years ago') and sad to see him getting the boot - together with his hairy pal Richard 'Smug-Looking Cunt' Keys - from the evil Sky Empire for doing something as innocuous as gross misogynism and Having A Wee Laugh At Some Wee Lassie's Expense. Of course when the whole affair came to light it turned out that Prankster Andy was an insufferable pain in the arse and a complete and utter wanker. So, by acting like a fucking eight year old wean Dickhead Andy has besmirched the whole lot of us...

A veritable Rogues' Gallery: Andy Murray (chokes in finals); Horse Fucker Derek Woods (er...he fucks horses); Tommy Sheridan (jumped up gobshite who got done for perjury) and Andy Gray* (big wean and sexist pig). Aye, it's been a bad week for Scotland plc, with all of the above all nailing the metaphorical nail into the...er...big, metaphorical coffin...Wha's like us? Who'd want to be?

*NOT Andy Gray battering a wumman. Just so you're absolutely clear on this point (and in case he sues) that it's an actor pretending to be Andy Gray pretending to batter a woman like he might have done for a laugh while he (allegedly) worked for the Evil Sky Empire Of Totalitarian Crap Football.

Glaswegian Horse Fucker Gets A Supervision Order

2011-01-29T17:46:00.004Z

Why would the person who wrote this copy for the BBC News website mention that Derek Woods, convicted horse fucker, originally came from Glasgow? Does the author bear a grudge against Glaswegians, or maybe thinks that all Glaswegians are into bestiality or maybe even they're the sad victim of a ill-fated love affair with a Glaswegian that went wrong and are trying to get some sort of twisted revenge. Maybe they themselves were raped by a horse with a Glasgow accent. Anyway. I'm just mystified as to why they would want to mention it.

So, Horse Fucker Derek gets a 'supervision order' which, I'm assuming, means he has to go to a psychiatrist or something on a regular basis so that the reasons for Horse Fucker Derek's frankly weird sexual predilection for shagging horses can be discovered, although if I was Horse Fucker Derek's shrink I would be too busy trying to keep a straight face with out having the hassle of working out the internal machinations of some weird cunt who liked to fuck horses to deal with as well.

It's the sort of question that - according to the biased-against-Glaswegians BBC story - even Horse Fucker Derek was unable himself to answer. I think he was probably lying just to try and deflect some of the terrible shame away, as if not telling anyone why you like to fuck horses makes the knowledge that you like to fuck horses diminish any any way whatsoever. Once a horse fucker, always a horse fucker.

Derek Woods, a Glaswegian and a Horse Fucker, showing remorse outside the court after being given a supervision order and a nickname that will remane (sic) with him until the end of his days. Horse Fucker Derek can now look forward to years of jokes and japes at his expense, like finding carrots in his desk or maybe everyone in the office turning up wearing t shirts with the logo, 'Derek Woods Is A Horse Fucker'. The possibilities are endless. And on a plus side, Horse Fucker Derek, Peter Sutcliffe had do kill tonnes of prostitutes before he got the nickname 'The Yorkshire Ripper', but you only had to fuck one horse to go down forevermore in history as Horse Fucker Derek.

If I Want To Watch Shite I'll Watch Two Women, One Cup

2011-01-27T17:28:00.005Z

Honestly I don't watch that much TV. I catch the odd snatch of Come Dine With Me because I want to be on it (I want the money but I've no fucking chance because I can't be bothered to cook for a bunch of moaning-faced wankers), and there's no fucking way in ever I'd cough up hard cash for a cunt like Rupert Murdoch just so's I can watch Sky crap.

So bearing in mind that all I watch is CDWM and that it has all the proper ingredients (sic) for a Proper Telly Programme - humour, violence, weirdos, scran etc etc I was eager today to find out if it won every award at last night's National Television Awards. Fuck me but it won shite all.

Anyway, undeterred I had a look at the winners to see if I could be enticed to catch any of them on the old Idiot Box...

Best Drama Serial: Eastenders. Never seen it. Can't stand soaps, especially ones about Cockernees.

Best Talent Show: The X Factor. Nope. It's got that Simon Cowell cunt in it, so that's a big no-no.

Best Factual Programme: Top Gear. Same as the X Factor but it's got that Clarkson fucker in it.

Best Comedy Programme: Benidorm. I haven't even heard of it.

Best Entertainment Presenter: Ant and Dec. Hold on, there's two of them...and what the fuck have either of them got to do with entertainment? Fucking Byker Grove cunts...Enough.

Looking at all the nominees (and there were billions of them, most of which I'd never watched, a lot of them never even knew existed) it struck me that the majority of the stuff shown on the telly is just a big pile of...

Shite. And this turd is much better to look at than Eastenders and has more talent than all the gimps and deluded tools who go on shite like the X Factor. tell you what - just so you get an idea of how little you'd miss the shite on the telly - for one night (any night) turn the bugger off and read a book. Maybe pick the hard skin off the heel of your left foot. Gut the cupboard underneath the sink. ALL much better than any old faecal matter on the telly...

Scotland's Most Exclusive Sex Club Welcomes Tommy Sheridan

2011-01-26T17:42:00.004Z

Tommy 'Deluded Megalomaniac' Sheridan has, as Fate has a right good laugh at his expense, been granted three years' worth of membership in Scotland's highly-rated and exclusive (as in it's exclusively for hairy-arsed sodomites) sex club, also known as Her Majesty's Prison Barlinnie.

Seeing as how Paranoid Tom lied his arse off about going to Fuck Clubs in Manchester when in actual fact (in this is a key factor in his being convicted and sentenced as a liar) he did go to Fuck Clubs and have big hairy-arsed Scottish sex with some poor wummen (plural) while he was still married to his equally-deluded wife, the equally-charged-with-perjury-but-got-off-with-it and rosary bead fanatic er..forgot her name...Missus Sheridan. We'll be seeing plenty of her I've-got-my-own-sunbed-you-manky-pale-plebs fizzog over the next few months while she uses the boo-hoo-my-man's-in-the-Bar-L-he's-a-working-class-hero-don't-you-peely-wally-gits-know ticket to get her own useless arse elected into the Parly here in Scotchville.

Anyway. Here's to Tommy and his well-kept body. I'm sure he'll be a bit of a luxury item for the Ladys in Barlinnie. I bet he's wishing he'd let himself go a bit instead of all the weights and tanning sessions....

Is that a wee smile there, TomTom? An ironic smile as he's probably just read this crap. Anyway, I got a laugh out of it, being one of the majority of Scotchissers who love it when a wee-ned-made-good falls right on his arse. And let's face it - and despite all the 'I'll defend myself' crap and all the 'working class hero' nob cheese - he's a jumped up wee adulterer who got caught because he thought he was better than all his friends and colleagues. You know, the ones who stood up in court and told the truth, something TomBoy neglected to do...