The Crap Comics Strike Again!

Ok, so i was at the union the other day watching some half decent comics. Then one guy runs on screaming 'up the bum, up the bum' into the mic.
Hold up there. Sorry, but running on stage screaming your homosexuality to a crowd of students isn't comedy. It's desperation. It's like the only way he could tell the world his big secret was by pretending to be a comedian. And i don't use the word 'pretend' lightly, as the following jokes made us want to ram our boots up his bum, right off the stage. And well, maybe you could let him off with the minor mishap here or there, but the thing was, whenever he ballsed up, he just sang 'up the bum, up the bum' into the mic again.
The point i'm trying to put forward here is, who the hell judges these comedians before they get let loose on stage? Does someone just take one look at them and say 'heck, your face is a full 5 minute time slot in itself mate' and let them on?
I saw one guy proclaim that he wasn't able to determine the position of female genitals, thereby making a laughing stock of himself before he even reached his punchline. Then he started trying to pick on people in the crowd. What, after that failure? I think not mate; all i was thinking was telling him to shave that afro, before we made a whole stand-up dedicated to it.
Now, don't get me wrong, some of the guys on that stage were hillarious, the jokes made you howl, but a lot of them go the wrong way about it. Say for example, one dude in particular starts joking about how unattractive his girlfriend was. Yes, you heard me right. See what i mean?
And the best the compere could come up with was stating the fact that a guy in the crowd had some major sideburns. Haha. Fucking hillarious. I think i might just go grow some. Cue epic facepalm moment.
So when the interval came, my own stupidity came to light when I melted a bit of plastic and set it on fire with a candle, nearly letting it set the fire-alarm off. Now, i must say, this encounter was actually funnier than most of the one liners being thrown about by the 'guy who definitely wasn't Bob Monkhouse' on the stage a few minutes before. Come one, even the price of that beer was more hillarious than these guys.
So the morals of the matter are; if you go to see a comedy show and a guy runs on stage chanting the line 'up the bum', leave. Just bloody leave.

Lookin' Down the Barrel

Anyone heard of a British dude running down to the shops and buying a gun? No, and you know why? Because guns are dangerous in the wrong hands, and we therefore make it hard for them to be aquired.
Isn't that the smart thing to do?
With all our laws governing guns and killing and murder, is it not fitting that the weapons used for such acts are removed from public eyes?
Then why, for any one minute, do the Americans just let you walk into a corner shop, order a pack of smokes, some beer, and a Browning 9X19? You then walk away, get pissed on the beer and shoot someone, and the government is all over you, chucking your ass in jail.
Now to be really fair to my brothers across the pond, they are kind of hypocritical in this sense. They allow the weapons to be sold to Joe Public down the street, not giving two fucking shits about what he does with them, as long as he signs a piece of paper stating that he doesn't intend any malicious behaviour with them. Then he goes and shoots his wife for cheating on him, and the country is up in arms! This is terrible! How could he do such a thing? Well, if they had only just looked at a flaw in their own pompous policing system, they'd realise, 'hey, you know if we don't let them buy those guns, then less people will die!'
If you look at the state of the British policing system, you'll get an idea of what it is like over here. None of the regular PCs are armed. They just carry a baton to whack the shit out of anyone who looks at them funny.
And the reason for this? Because when we get angry at the world, we can't just walk down to kalashnikovs "R" us, can we? No, and as a result, less people get shot. The cops just arrest your ass for 'breach of the peace', a phrase which nobody really knows the meaning of anyway.
And so, our country is a lot more orderly and peaceful than others, simply by making weapons less accessible. And why don't other countries just follow this, and before we know it, there will be less hatred among us, and there won't be a morbid fear of being carjacked whenever you go down to the shops for your beer.
You'd have at least thought a couple of countries would have noticed our laws, and how, by being that little bit more strict, have cracked down on crime that is just everyday business for other countries.
Can't they just try it out at least?
So, until Uncle Sam says 'no' to guns, i'll be sitting, wondering why the hell he says 'yes' in the first place.

Shut it, You Veggie!

So, poor old chicken gets slaughtered. And all in the name of a little meal, so the kids won’t go hungry. Is that such a crime?
Well, apparently, there are a few people who believe so.
These members of society, for some reason, believe it is morally wrong to kill a little chicken just to stay alive. It’s as if they are saying ‘screw us, save the chickens’. And to be honest, I know a few people like that.
So, with their arguements, which usually end up in ‘it’s wrong, and it’s horrible’ (the usual suspects), what I want to know is what happened to the old ‘it’s tasty, and who gives a hoot where it came from’ excuse?
It’s like saying ‘I’m not driving that car because it came from Russia’. Actually, come to think of it, that is a terrible comparison; who the hell would want to drive a car from Russia?
Anyway, back to the point, if you have a piece of meat placed in front of you and you eat it (that is without thinking about the chicken that it came from) then it’s all good. But if you refuse it, good ol’ cluck-cluck just died in vain. Think about it, if you refuse the meat, then it’ll just get wasted. If the so called vegetarians truly cared about the animals that were killed, they would put the remains to good use and eat them.
Then you get those mental patients who take it all a step further, and refuse to eat anything which happens to be distantly related to animals. We call these crazies 'vegans', mainly because they're a lot shorter than vegetarians, so we shorten their name, too. They won't drink any dairy products or anything of that nature, and totally disregard their own well-being for no apparent point whatsoever; i can't think of any reason why i wouldn't want to drink a nice cool glass of milk, but then again, i'm not crazy, and anyone who challenges this statement will be shot. These vegans are rare, as they are usually eaten by angry chickens that are fed up being slaughtered.
So in my post-review conclusion, i suggest that everyone start murdering every animal they can find before the catch us off guard. You have been warned.
I think.

The Moan Landings

So here is what i understand. There are people in the world who are unwilling to believe that NASA put men on the moon, yet they have no trouble believing in one supreme being that created the entire universe. And to be brutally fair, i can tell you which is more probable.
So why do people insist on skepticising the moon landings? Does someone just have it in for America? Sorry, stupid question. But if we look at everything past face value, we see more things than we usually do. Imagine looking at an attractive person wearing revealing clothing. You instinctively feel attracted to said person through their looks or bodies, and never stop to think if the person could be a complete cock.
It's the same when it comes to looking at the facts behind the moon landings; for many people it looks like some unachievable feat for its time; lanching a rocket into space, then landing a man on the moon? Impossible.
But look at it closer.
We think they couldn't have put a man on the moon, because how could they have the technology to do it around that time? But just because we didn't happen to have that technology at that time doesn't mean NASA didn't. You don't see Joe Public flying around in jet-propelled rockets, yet NASA send them into space all the time, so how do we know they didn't have the technology to pull it off back then if they never made their advances public? They wern't going to let Vlad over in Russia catch wind of their plans, were they?
I've also heard it said that there was around a 0.0001% chance of the astronauts survuiving the trip. There is something i want to state here. Are the scientists/mathematicians at NASA just a bunch of idiots, arsing about for a bit of free coffee? Of course not. They spend hours on end calculating precise measurements, probably spending weeks on hinges for a door on the rocket. They will have anticipated these numbers easily; there's a reason they were given the jobs.
And then come the theories put forward to disprove evidence of the moon landings. The theories are based on physics spouted from people who know more about wiping their own asses than physics, and are easily debunked.
Where the moon landings are concerned, few people take the time to view the complete facts surrounding them before making assumptions based on what is apparently classed as common sense.
And as a good friend once said, common sense is so rare it's a god damn super power.

I Can't Hear the Music

I'm not going to lie. When i look at the music charts today, i am actually scared that the songs on it were written by their producers' ten year old children after they gave them 'the talk.' Does anyone out there actually know how to write about anything other than crack or banging prostitutes?
I want to know what happened to any decent, well written music these days. When I turn on my radio, i don't want Fiddy Cent moaning about how he doesn't have enough cars/girls in his life. Actually, I don't feel like devoting my time or money to anyone who names themself after how much they spend on music lessons.
But the thing that incenses me even more than Michael Jackson's accent? Michael Jackson. Oh, and also how pop singers plant their names on a record and make silly amounts of money to rival Bill Gate's postman's tips, while the session musicians and writters get a tiny fraction of this, and get almost no recognition, unless they happen to be the President of the United freaking States. And that would just be silly. Wouldn't it?
These days, followers of actual bands (i don't use that term lightly; anyone who mentions indie will have their kneecaps blown off) are getting scarce, the term 'mosh pit' all but almost forgotten and metalheads are treated like one could, at any moment, turn up at your door and eat your children.
There is no respect for the true musicians nowadays, those who slave for months/years on end in isolated recording studios to bring fans and dedicated followers a little beauty to their lives, only to be trumped by some blonde who sells records through airbrushed photos and leaked sex tapes.
So i give a heartfelt R.I.P to Mr Hendrix, and i hope he is waiting at the gates with a pickaxe for Gary Glitter when somebody finally finds him.

F*ck it, I'm Ginger

I, unlike most people reading this blog, went to school. I can say this with some certainty since school gives you at least some intelligence, and nobody in possession of said intelligence would be crazy enough to be reading this crazy stuff.
Anyway, to the matter at hand.
Being in school and being ginger don't mix well at all. You can't walk down a single corridor without someone screaming the painfully obvious at you. It's as if they think you've never noticed the colour of your own hair, and each day they feel it would be good for your sanity for a little reminder, just in case you look in the mirror one day and scream 'oh my god, I'm Ginger!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'
But in a way, I have to say I'm thankful for the random shouts that were thrown my way every day. In the same way I'm thankful for the brocolli with my sunday roast. In fact, you can even see the similarities between them; they're both absolutely pointless and only seem to be there to leave a bad taste in your mouth.
And another thing. When in god's name did some bright spark come up with the idea that pointing out the colour of one's hair could be classed as an insult? It's like walking up to your boss and punching him in the face; to understand any of the logic, you have to be a complete moron. You could at least understand it if they were shouting some derogatory term at you, but in my opinion, anyone who can only find a single insult to repeatedly call someone is pathetic enough, but if that insult doesn't even happen to be an insult at all, they really need to get laid.
And the bad thing about this 'insult'? There's almost no comeback to it, unless it came from Fat Man Scoop or Danny Devito. And the other downside? It's like Anthony Kiedis. It NEVER gets old. More people use it than weed. Soon it'll be more popular than jesus. And Jack Daniels. And condoms. (ok, maybe not the latter.)
But there is one shiny orange light at the end of the tunnel. When the dark haired comedians get stuck in a cave, where is the light going to come from to help them find their way out? Certainly not their hair.
I bet they never considered that, now, did they?

The Importance of Being Manly?

When i shave, i feel like a man.
When i watch Arnie fighting a 7 ft alien, i feel like a man.
But when i'm watching an episode of Desperate Housewives, however, i don't. Partly because the men on that show are about as manly as the Barbie Dolls they married. But mainly because there is always one blonde-haired designer-glasses-wearing bimbo who just likes to make life hell for everyone else.
Hold on, don't i know people like that? Oh yes, that's right. They're called teachers. And i don't have a brilliant past with teachers of the female variety. This makes me imagine the super-bitches on T.V as characterizations of my 6th year english teacher. Only with nice hair and straight teeth. So whenever i see these women, i immediately go into bitch mode and hope the gold-digging, lego-faced women go straight to hell for sabotaging someone's car journey to get a pint of milk.
And you know what?
I enjoy it.
It gives you this primal anger no man can get from having someone else spill his pint. So, when the series is on, every Wednesday i'll be at the T.V hoping they manage to drown the bitch before she stops their husbands getting their bowl of Corn Flakes.
Terrible.
But beneath the original 'Oh god, i feel like i'm gonna need some high heels and 12-inch fingernails,' i realise I get the same manly rush i find when listening to James Hetfield wanting to stab priests for letting his mother die.
It's a weird comparison, I know, and one that doesn't really seem to work. But it does. Every man thinks that when he's away from the female in his life, or any, he is free to roam and 'be a man,' opening tins of beans and farting.
But is this manly? Arn't we supposed to make sure life is comfortable for women, and showing them more respect than we show ourselves? When we, as men, are with women, we show them the love, compassion and courtesy they deserve. They then, in return, shout at us for leaving the toilet seat up, or for buying the wrong damn chocolate.
But what we don't notice is that this constant onslaught of physical and mental abuse just drags us further away from the bean-tin-opening, farting cavemen we were born as. It makes us more mature, more confident, smarter and competent at tasks other than eating Beans. Instead, we are introduced to this strange food called Toast. And apparently, Toast goes well with Beans.
Now, isn't THIS what you would call a man, one who cares for others and scratches a cat behind the ears rather than screaming at them until they run away in fear. The image of a man in a suit getting the top job. Now THAT's a man, and the foundations are based not around Bazuka's and beating up the French, but 'Desperate Housewives' and common chivelry.
And do you have a problem with this?
If so, off and enjoy the farting.