Before I met the woman my eating habits consisted of eating either at me Nan’s or what ever pile of shite I successfully managed to nuke in the microwave without it turning into a burnt out house‘s sofa. Going out for dinner just weren’t something I did, the closest I ever got to a civilized meal was buying a kebab after a piss up of blood, alcohol and a series of love bites after playing pull the pig.

Eating out for me is atrociously expensive for the simple reason being that when I go out to eat I choose what normally is considered as the top meal. I wont choose shite like Cod and chips, Sausage and Mash and crap like that because I can cook that myself and it defeats the idea of eating out in the first place. I choose Mixed Grills, Lasagne's and anything that contains lavish helpings of dead animal flesh… a vegetarian I totally aint.

I like menus that basically cut to the chase, here’s an example of a dish taken out of a Witherspoon menu and how much bollocks they talk…

Now basically what it roughly translates into is Pie and Mash, the rest is a desperate attempt to get the piss heads eating their over priced warmed up meals. What in Jesus’ sandals is a Portobello Mushroom? More importantly who gives a flying fuck? A mushroom the last time I looked is a mushroom, them silly little things the gnomes sit on while fishing. “Slow cooked farm assured British beef?” Roughly translated it means “reheated pie made in England but don’t worry it aint got BSE!” (or mad cow disease to the data inept)

Another criminal of talking total bullshit is McDonalds, but they do it with images rather than words. As you can see from the cracking evidence I have so generously supplied, a simple thing such as a cheese burger is blatantly sold to us under misconception and total criminal false advertising. The cheese burger on the left is a promotional picture of a cheese burger from their shit website, I got it from their website so they couldnt sue me for slander… the rather shit image of an exhausted UFO on the right is the actual cheese burger I bought in McDonalds… sinister fuckin wankie shit criminals!


Subway… eat fresh! Right I’ll stop them there… two things… it aint fresh and I know that because someone I know works in one. The processed meat savaged, salad slopped roll you eat from a Subway is FRESHLY MADE not fresh! My little insider informed me that the rolls are frozen and heated up to order and the fillings are always a day behind to save waste, so in effect if you walk into a Subway and buy a roll when it opens you will be eating the shit from the day before… so help me out here guys… how is that fresh?! Bit of a trading standards issue there and misleading the customers me thinks.

There are places I do like obviously, Wimpy is very under rated these days and their burgers are like heaven on earth. Chinese restaurants are top notch and because their menus are incredibly simplistic, no bullshit and have more variety meaning eating at them has the benefit of never getting boring.

If I had my way I would have Chinese every night, a greasy bacon sandwich for breakfast and some lovely raw wet pussy just before bedtime with a cup of hot chocolate or a Horlicks… but it don’t work out like that and luckily for my now shrinking waist line I’m pretty glad.

One thing that I have often wondered though… does pussy juice have calories? If so I think I now know why I’m a fat fucker… because it aint the food I swear!

There’s one thing on this banal existence that everybody dreams of catching after years of chasing, and that’s the rather deadly feeling of love. The bizarre thing is that it’s actually reciprocal love that people want and pray for, to be loved back unconditional and through all life’s little stabs in the back.

Now everyone that’s been in Love knows that Love aint unconditional and that Love don’t make life worth living, it turns your life into an emotional roller coaster that will give you some happiness a day at a time. It could make you want to take a million pain killers and hope your death is as painless as possible, leaving behind shattered hearts and bitter loved ones because you opted to end your own suffering.

I’m not saying that Love is a bad thing, in fact far from it… Love feels good and it helps you twitter away on life’s merry coil. But it does have a habit of turning you into a rather odd shadow of your former self, a paranoid gullible emotional nightmare as you try to hold on to your loved ones with a deadly grip that can only make them slip away. Take me for example, I used to be an easy going, totally trusting and wonderfully laid back guy to go out with and I still am to a certain extent, but since getting ruthlessly dumped I’ve noticed a few frayed edges in my own mind that I’m fighting against because I know it just aint me.

Constant Communicational Pest

One of the things about me is the fact that I can hold a conversation with a duck and still make it intelligent and amusingly cultured, so a text from me aint abbreviated and contains enough substance to warrant a reasonable reply.

Take Sarah for instance, she is the blatant opposite and eventually I had to back off with the texting because it was driving me and her nuts. I assumed that because you love someone you don’t mind talking to them because after all that’s what communication is all about. But Sarah finds it hard to hold a conversation by text unless it’s a conversation she has either started or has a lot to say about.

There’s one thing in this world that really annoys me more than Lionel Blair and that’s the text response of “LOL” or “YEAH LOL”. Its fucking rude, shows a persons arrogance and shows very little interest in the present conversation, and not forgetting total contempt for the person your talking to... so coming from a loved one it amplifies a hundred times over and it makes me think that the “loved one” just don’t find me interesting.

Now luckily I have accepted that some people just cant text and I’ve vowed to myself that I’m not gonna get my head in a screw with texting any more because this world is full of much better things to stamp my feet at… Timmy Mallet being one of them. At the end of the day if someone don’t respond how I want them to then that’s fine, forcing a conversation from someone that aint interested aint gonna work and I realize that now and from now on texting will be limited to two or less sentences or mirroring the person I’m talking to… hazzar… I feel better already!

Is that the Green eyed Monster?

I’ve never really done jealousy but sometimes it rears its ugly head and I deal with it and stamp it down, mostly without Sarah realizing which is a far cry from the way Sarah copes… her jealousy when triggered means I sleep on the couch and the dog gets my space in the bed.

In very small doses jealousy can be a constructive and a good kick in the ass to realize what you have is precious and worth giving it a hundred percent for. If Sarah showed a bit of jealousy every now and then in relatively small doses then the I could live happily without the whole texting shenanigans because any doubts and fears are being fixed in another form. Before she dumped me I had to take medication for a problem that I aint gonna go into details about but sufficed to say at sent me off my head and as paranoid as fuck.

Obviously there’s no smoke without fire and despite her not actually cheating her behavior and sneakiness towards the end did give the impression that she was getting cocked somewhere else, but my meds made me think about it so intensely that I could see her getting fucked by guys so vividly that when I shut my eyes it was like watching Dutch porn.

I’m off the meds now out of choice, apparently they are essential to my recovery but at what cost? Losing the person I love? Don't think so, I would rather suffer in silence... I’m sacrificing my physical health for my mental health quite happily and I’m a better person for it. To me my mental health is more important because the paranoia was so deep rooted and tormenting, to me it felt like my whole relationship was lie. Now I only get the odd twinge at jealousy that can only be described as a slight niggle, a million times easier to cope with because it’s been and gone within moments. As a result I am suffering some really strong physical pain for fifteen hours in every day but it’s a pain that I would gladly take instead of twenty four hours of spirit crushing and relationship destroying jealousy.

Love at the end of the day is a gift that much is true, but it aint a bed of roses and like everything else it has some serious bad points. But not knocking what I have or have had I embrace it now and fight the fight at one day at a time… If you try and do more then love will grind you up and spit out out your teeth…

Love is a very happy and precious gift… but it’s also ruthless, unforgiving and can bring on some serious mental issues… so if your gonna love… be careful… relying on another person for happiness and completion is against the rules of God… so I’m told!

Scott

Back in the days of no internet guys used to have an unwritten bonding ritual that was porn swapping. The idea was that we used to raid our parents bedroom for any suspiciously blank labelled video cassettes in the hope that they were secretly hording a stash of porn, but unluckily for us our Dad was as boring and as righteous as a strip of garden decking.

He bizarrely tried to convince us that porn created rapists and sexual deviants; yet unbeknown to him at the time of his rather grand speech, we already had our own collection that we were swapping with other kids and their parents.

By today’s standards the smut was pathetically pitiable, with cheesy story lines and plots as shallow as a walnuts’ swimming pool. But that was the most appealing thing about it because it meant every now and then someone would always come along with a better one, and once copied we could use it as a bargaining chip to get a whole heap of more smut from everyone else.

One of the things our group could always be proud of was the fact that we used to travel to London specifically to buy our smut; our titles were always up to date with the latest stars and hardest scenes. This always gave us the edge because when a newbie joined our group with their cum stained videos we knew ours were always better. This was ideal for us because we used to run copies off and sell them for fifty quid a throw making us more cash than a drug dealer.

Then the internet came and ruined our rather fruitful business of our smut dealership, and we were a mixture of pleased and pissed at the same time. We were pissed that we lost out on so much money, yet pleased that smut was to go through such a dramatically awesome change for the better. Suddenly all the plots and cheesy soundtracks vanished and all the stars suddenly went from making love to hardcore slap happy bitches.

Now the grot seems to be about MILF’s getting rooted by gargantuan pensioners legs, teen whores that can shove a dick the size of a baby’s fore arm where the sun don’t shine and pretty faces getting a chin omelette from a group of desperate faceless men. The word hardcore doesn’t even fit smut these days, a chick with two kidney crackers in her butt is part of standard run of the mill filth… so what does the future hold for smut? How can it get any better? I don’t know for sure but I for can’t wait to see it.

The thing is with smut these days thats also good is that the production companies that knock it out normally cater for a wide selection of erm ... tastes I do believe the word is. Back when we was knocking the grot out you got a VHS and it was pot luck what you got on it, it weren't deliberate but thats how it was, a kind of blind date with your crap VHS. Most of the companies these days though do tend to hire the usual typical bimbo kinda chick which is okay if they are new to biz and you like that sort of thing, but hows about some fat chicks? Not overly fat but normal like... or is it just me?

Some say the internet was created for smut… but I think very differently… I say the smut was created for us… or more precisely… ME!

As most of you probably learnt in primary school life is all about natural selection, survival of the fittest and more importantly the food chain. For those who don’t know what the food chain is the chances are you can’t use a PC anyway, but if you’ve been lucky enough to stumble upon this site out of button bashing and blind searching then I’ll explain.

The food chain works on the sole rule that there’s always a bigger fish. The easiest way to think about it is think of it as a ladder, every step of the ladder has a different creature that is food the one above it… For example you have rodents on the bottom, sniffing around minding their own business then WOLLOP, snatched by an Eagle or Buzzard and scoffed, the Eagle and buzzard will be on the next step up. That’s how the food chain works, and that’s how life is. We humans are pretty close to the top as we pretty much butcher and eat anything. Above us are things like sharks, crocodiles, alligators and John Prescott.

Food is an important way of life for me because I’ve been dieting for three weeks and can think of nothing else, I’ve sampled in the last three years delights of many sorts… huge greasy mixed grills, cheese on toast as a daily lunch time ritual accompanied by crisps and chocolate muffins ect. As a result I ballooned to a whopping twenty three stones, and it caused me a whole heap of trouble.

I’ve had sleepless nights of un comfort as every position I laid in I ended up laying on another belly I didn’t even know I had, all my clothes ripping and straining as I tried to squeeze two buses into the ass of a pair of jeans as well as health issues I aint going to mention. But the most important issue that upset me the most was the fact my girlfriend admitted she just didn’t find me attractive anymore and I was devastated.

Knowing this I decided to lose the weight and I succeeded, I lost two stone in three weeks just by cutting back and being a good boy. All is now rosy and my clothes look good again and more importantly the girlfriend now finds me attractive again, more so now than ever and to be honest I’m finding it hard to keep up with her. Don’t get me wrong I’m as happy as a guy that thought a cat that had shit on his pie but it turned out to be an extra large blackberry, but I can’t help feeling that I’ve been cheated in some way.

Why is it that women rule the bedroom? Why do they decide when we have sex? Why do they tell us when we are fat and un attractive? Have any of you guys ever told a girlfriend that they are too fat to find attractive? Trust me, for those of you that haven’t your doing bloody well at making your life simple because I tell you now relationships are all about confusion and double standards.

To tell a girlfriend she is fat or that she could do with losing a couple of stone is like putting your cock in a blender a night before your honeymoon. Luckily for me I love my ladies big with a bit of meat, but I have my limits, my ex was lovely when she was big but inevitably she piled on the pounds and it got to the stage where every time she bent over she had more burger in her knickers than I had sausage so the all day breakfast eventually went sour.

But getting back on subject I was so heart broken at the missus not finding me attractive any more it got me thinking, what gives a woman the right to judge a guy when if the tables were reversed it would be a total crime against humanity as we know it. I told my ex she was too fat, she told me at the start of the relationship that if we didn’t find each other attractive anymore we would be honest and grown up about it… and she was… she denied me sex, went anorexic, lost a shit load of weight and started fucking my mate.

The bottom line is guys is you have to do as you’re told and not do as she does. If she puts weight on you gotta deal with it because insulting a woman’s weight in mental abuse. If you put weight on and she has to sleep with you that’s physical abuse to her. If she goes off you then it’s your fault for eating too many cakes, if you go off her then you’re a man that doesn’t deserve her in the first place. If you cheat on her then you’re a dirty hound dog that needs hanging from the nearest tree, if she cheats on you then it’s your fault for not showing her enough attention. If she don’t find you attractive anymore then its your own fault for letting yourself go and eating sausage and mash for breakfast, if you don’t find her attractive then you’re a shallow waste of space in the middle of a mid life crisis. You can’t win fellas so don’t even try to.

Back to the food chain thing and with a few re adjustments you see our rightful place, we men are under women and that will never change.

Scott

Whilst reading MSN earlier it prompted the Grey matter into a serious deep thought... Where are they now? Basically it's a ponderous wonder at where the icons from the movies in the eighties and nineties vanished to, normally the stars of one hit wonders.

Britain has an especially critical eye on the world of movies due to the fact that after the United States we are next inline for the suckers of a big Hollywood flick, resulting in our opinions mattering when it comes to decapitating the careers of the Hollywood star.

Every now and then I will think of someone and add a post... can't promise you when and to be honest I'm so used to moaning about things, this kind of post is a bit off side to say the least. But true to my word the first fallen star is a hero of mine... not sure why these days, but when I was a kid he was the coolest...

Mark Hamill

This guy is a classic case of what the fuck happened to you, but after a little bit of research you realize that this fella is far from dead. You all know him from the original Starwars, he was the pathetically and socially challenged Luke Skywalker. Now I'm a great fan of the movies themselves and I've done massive back to back runs of the movies with my mates and all kinds. But Mark is still an embarrassment due to the hammy portrayal of his Skywalker. I aint gonna slag him off because at the end of the day I grew up with this guy as my hero, long before I learned that you don't get anywhere in life unless your the bad guy.

These days though he plays the voice of the Joker in the Batman Animated series, which blew me sideways because the talent he plays the Joker with simply blows his poor and cringing attempt at the Skywalker thing clean out into space. As my childhood hero though I have to say he still has it, but not as Luke Skywalker... but as the Joker... the joker is much cooler...

oh and he kills people too which is alot more entertaining... hazzar!

Scott

More than half a million Poles have entered the UK since we stupidly joined the EU in 2004. In fact I remember the build up leading up to one of Labour's biggest and monumental cock ups since the Millennium Dome. Now I don't normally do politics, but this topic for me is why half my friends are begging to some nob cheesed socially retarded stuck up cunt every two weeks for a few pennies that they claim is Jobseekers allowance.

I didn't want to join the EU, I don't hide it and never claimed otherwise because the one thing that this country used to be great for and that was it's freedom of speech. But now it's all gone crazy, I can't fart in English now in case it offends a Muslim or insults a Kosovan. In 2002 I got a EU questionnaire which claimed to give me my shout and get this "my say" on whether or not we go into the EU. So I filled the form out basically saying I would rather have my bollocks sewn to a prize winning greyhound ten seconds before a big race, and everyone I knew did the same... and I mean EVERYONE!

A year later it was decided by Tony Cockend Blair that we were going into the EU based on the public wanting us to do so. How was this possible? Everyone I knew was dead against the idea and all my new friends now are still spitting teeth over it... how did they come to the conclusion that it's what we wanted? It's all communist bullshit and I for one don't vote for any fucker on voting day, they can knock on my door door as much as they like with their smarmy smiles and their posh banners. It don't work for the Jehovanobs on Sundays so it won't work for them either.

Basically what the government didn't realise that this once great country's equilibrium was to suddenly get unbalanced to ludicrous proportions. Finding a job was never easy, even before the EU but it was possible, but a month or so on the doll and you had a job. Now there are true Britons on the rock n roll for months on end, some even years. The balance of life is is that your born, you work and you die... the available jobs generally is enough to cater for the work force of an entire country because that's how it is... it's called balance.

What the cock munching politicians have basically done is opened the flood gates letting loads of monkeys in that are willing to work for less than the British, and every company out there sees a profit and thinks that true British people are just too plain expensive to employ. Take Dyson for example, he shifted his whole vacuum empire to a country that eats cats, dogs, sparrows, spending their whole day driving around on second hand mopeds... why? To make even more money! But now companies don't need to do that, they stay in the UK but hire the Polish instead.

My opinion is that we need to get all these blood sucking vampire dumpling eaters out, it's not a racist slur, I have nothing against them in the slightest. But if our country is to survive this depression that we are in because of the recession, it's only fair that some sort balanced is restored. Our country is dying because they are earning the money and sending it home, if their cash is not being spent in this country then its being syphoned out of the system... and the last time I looked that was called money laundering... or am I wrong?

Fight for Britain... get our asses out of the EU before end up the subject of World Wide Appeal, or some half arsed American Liveaid showing videos of our children covered in flies and begging for rice, our women walking the streets with jugs on their heads and the poor Beckhams are forced to live on just two million quid a week... tragic! . You may laugh, but in a hundred years time moving at our present state and we are gonna be quite literally... fucked!

Scott

Daytime TV at the best of times is total shit, but some programs are in a league of their own when it comes to the pants award. Richard and Judy got a gong on my old blog because not only are they as boring as trying to read the daily Telegraph in the dark, but they are seriously ugly to boot. They both remind me of two decaying haystacks in a field in the middle of winter. Their constant bickering and trying to talk over each other in true husband and wife fashion grates my back teeth to the point of severe toothache, which I must add is pretty much more appealing.

Deal or no Deal is another travesty of banal entertainment, where Noel ring piece Edmunds plays a double role of the twat in the jumper I gave to charity and the elusive and fake Bwanker. Why? I had to watch it three times before I could work out the whole concept of the game, leaving me feeling pretty fucking stupid too. Is there anything in the rules of the game that says you can't open your own box at the start? I would, at the end of the day if you only got a quid in your box that's still a profit margin of 100%.

Bargain Hunt?! Why is that interesting? There are things in life that nobody should ever admit to, one is that you find David tango Dickinson funny and entertaining and the other is that you shop at boot sales. So Bargain Hunt is pretty much dead on the water in my books, and it being on the water is too good for it when it should be six foot under. It's not a complete loss however, what I would like to see is the interview with the pissed off person that sold them the shit in the first place. Imagine selling someone a piece of tat from your car boot for 50 pence then seeing it fetch 50 quid on TV... fucking priceless!

Loose Women! AAAAAARGH! I remember being slapped by a girl at school because I called her loose, I wern't lying either, it was like fucking a bin liner but these days a being called a loose woman is some sort of compliment. Perhaps one day the term Fat Slag will have girls gushing! One of my main gripes at this poor attempt to entertain single mothers and divorces is the absolute sexism and desperation of the league of witches that present it. It was okay when Kerry Katona was presenting it because I could just stare at her tits, but now the presenters have the combined age of a supermarket trolley collector. I understand that it is aimed at women and I totally agree I shouldn't be watching it in the first place, but sometimes, just sometimes the TV remote in just out of reach and I have no choice but to suffer.

Home and Away and Neighbors... Despite being two separate programs I am going to slate them both at the same time because one, they are Australian, and two because they shamelessly copy each other. I'm not racist in the slightest and to prove it I used to have a black Newfoundland dog and I used to know a bloke from Wales so racist I ain't, but fucking Australians really boil my spuds. They hate us English people and they don't even try and hide it, which is bizarre because the reason they are over there in the first place is because we caught their great great great grandads stealing knickers off some poor English woman's clothesline.

Back to the shows in question... if any of you watch these dire if foolhardy strains on the intelligence you will notice that their plots almost run parallel to each other, and I say plots very loosely... If they were made in this country they would be called Crossroads or Elderado. I have never watched these intentionally and if one thing can lift me from my armchair to change the channel the old fashioned way its these dire travesties of Australian TV!

I could gripe about TV all bloody day but I won't, theres plenty of shite on during the day that I can post about another time. Trisha broom neck Goddard being one of my larger pet hates and she rightly deserves a post of her own. I have however sat down and thought about why day time TV is so crap in the first place, and I have a theory... the government deliberately do it make people get jobs, because lets face it... getting up a chimney and doing a twelve hour shift scraping the brown carpet left on the bottom of a public toilet is a hundred times more prefable to the spirit crushing and mind numbing TV any day.

Scott

Okay so you know my name and all the rest of the nonsense, but if your still lost you can view my profile here. I have an odd habit for seeing all those little niggles that come from being a human on this rather torturous existence we all claw our way through. Some say I'm over pessimistic and others say I'm a right miserable old git, but what people fail to realise is that it takes an extreme sense of humour to spot these bizarre things in the first place.

Me and the missus have this thing, we sit in a car park in a car obviously and make a game out of what we call "wrongun watching". Basically what we look for are people that act naturally, you see they don't know we are watching and they are misguided into thinking they are alone. It may sound like a totally odd version of train spotting, but trust me... it's as funny as hell.

We've seen it all, people scratching their asses then sniffing their finger, picking their noses and eating it, dancing to their iPods crazily and shit loads more. You see people when they are alone are literally the people they really are, and that's what I like... I like people unmasked and unashamed of what they are.

That's why my rather bizarre outlook on life is the way it is, we are constantly hiding behind manners, tidiness and an appearance that's chosen for us by what we are told looks handsome and beautiful by the media.

Take Victoria Beckham for example, we are told she's fit and gorgeous because she wears snazzy clothes, designer labels and hand bags made out of orphaned babies; yet we assume that she is sexy because of where she is in life and that she's on TV and in the media. But in all honesty she looks like a blow dried corpse.

I'm beginning to wonder if she even exists, maybe she's some bizarre wax model that her daft coloring book eating husband, created to accompany him to photo shoots and shit. He dresses it up, sprays her make up on with a water pistol and says to the press "hey guys, take pics of me and me bird!".

I've never seen her in real life, and to be honest I will die happy knowing that I've never shared the same slab of pavement as her. But the reason I think she doesn't exist is the photo evidence that's shoved in our faces every time we open a news paper... every fucking photo of Hound dog Thicktoria Beckham is exactly the same as the thousands before it. What more evidence do you need?!

That my friends is what this blog is about, it's a tool to stop me winging and raving at my missus... an outlet of rage and frustration at that fact that there's far less deserving people out there with more money and better lives... I'm pretty happy with what I got... my woman especially... but she deserves her own post that I will write another time... so until I can be arsed to write another post... I bid you farewell... and as Frasier says "I wish you good mental health"

Scott