TOUGH Lad of the week: Koose Muniswamy Veerappan

Unlike the other tough lads that have been listed here, Veerappan is someone who I would not actually like to meet in real life. He was an Indian robber bandit who robbed and killed at will for 30 years before he was captured and killed in 2004. He was wanted in connection with 184 murders, smuggling offenses worth over $25 million, and kidnapping dozens of people, including one of India’s biggest actors, who he held hostage for 109 days until his ransom was paid. This was a man who just oozed tough cuntery.

The pot belly and incredible moustache alone qualify him for the list.

Veerappan was seen to have a Robin Hood type image across India, partially because he helped out many villagers with money, and also because he originally went into war against the police because he felt they were responsible for forcing his brother and sister to commit suicide when he was a young man. The villagers hid and protected him on many occasions, though it was also known that he would punish anyone who reported his whereabouts or assisted police. Veerappan was known to almost always operate with a gang, and at some points had hundreds of loyal men following him. 

There was a special task force set up to catch Veerappan, and he managed to evade them for 12 straight years, and also attack and kill some of their number on several occasions. After the task force was set up in 1992, one of Veerappan’s lieutenants was captured and killed; Veerappan answered this by attacking the police station in force, killing 13 police officers and raiding the shit out of their weapons and ammunition. In this same year he lured the head of the task force and 28 other police into a trap using a fake informant, and he and his men threw bombs and hand grenades at them from cover, killing all 29 of them. The next year he killed 17 more police personnel, and also blew up a bus, killing all 43 passengers, including additional police. 

Veerappan was killed in 2004 after he was captured by police. It is not known exactly how he died, because the police released several versions of the story of how they laid a trap and killed him when he fired at them, but Veerappans wife argues all these, claiming that he was captured and killed in police custody. Either way, thousands of people turned up to his funeral, which was not held in his home town because the authorities feared people might have inspired to uprise upon hearing his incredibly tough life story. 

They took his life, but not his glorious, glorious moustache.

My first nomination for TOUGH CUNT of the century (20^th).

I Hate Golf

Think of anything you like about golf (I really hope you don't have any anyway - if you do; yellow card, mate) and I guarantee you I can think of another sport that does it better. Golf is the worst sport you can possibly play, and the only people who enjoy it are ponces and prick old people. I don't know why but for some reason it still has a legitimate audience. A pretty large one too, by the looks of it. The 2006 Ryder Cup was hosted in Ireland and had a massive viewership, and Tiger Woods' reputation seems to still be doing well despite sleeping with dozens of prostitutes behind his wife's back for over a decade. That's a bit weird, innit?

FUCK BITCHES GET MONEY

There's several reasons why golf is the worst sport there is if you just think about it. First, you don't do anything in golf. It's just my opinion, but the slow and passive nature of golf makes it incredibly boring - would you not prefer to play something a bit more stimulating? Isn't the point of a competitive sport is that it's exciting? I don't understand how anyone could enjoy 'competition' running along at the pace of a bandy dying snail. Also, the amount of implements you need just to play is a sign of how badly golf is designed.  Golf is the only sport I can think of where you need more than one item (i.e; a ball etc.) other than your hand to actually play - let alone fucking five. Take a look at the list of main cumbersome and inefficient clubs which are apparently all neccessary in order for you to play:

• Woods are long-distance clubs, meant to drive the ball a great distance down the fairway towards the hole. 
• Irons are golf clubs with a flat angled face and a shorter shaft than a wood, designed for shots approaching the green or from more difficult lies such as the rough, through or over trees, or the base of hills.
• Putters are a special class of clubs with a loft not exceeding ten degrees (except chippers), designed primarily to roll the ball along the grass, generally from a point on the putting green towards the cup.
• Another variation of the putter, called the chipper, has a similar look, feel and general construction as a "normal" putter, but with a much higher loft, often 30-45 degrees. It is used to lift the ball over or out of the rough or fringe and onto the green with a motion similar to a putt.

If that wasn't bad enough, I only just found out there that there's "hybrid" golf clubs too designed as " a cross between a wood and an iron, giving these clubs the wood's long distance with the iron's familiar swing. " This has to be the most impractical system for playing a sport you could possibly make - were they on yokes when they came up with all of these? 

The space required to play golf on a full 18 hole course is enormous, and quite frankly very greedy considering you could play actual good sports on those huge, empty fields. And who invented golf clothes?  I tried thinking of a comparison to something for them but I just couldn't, just look at the absolute state of them:

Little poshie cunt

I really do think the only reason golf clubs are around is because its an expensive hobby to have the equipment and space to play - so obviously its been taken up by the wealthy. Country clubs are nothing more than an elitist stomping ground - once you've paid enough money to be accepted into the clique the facilities are all yours, but the average person needs to pay the through the roof for a single game or even to be able to apply to join. I really hope people cop on to themselves and just stop playing golf in the future. I actually hate it so much more after I was done writing this....

Gas Facts About Bananas

In 2001, Britain recorded 300 incidents of injuries related to bananas. The majority of these involved people slipping on banana peels.

If you freeze bananas in the freezer and then puree them in a blender, you get a banana paste with a consistency just like soft-serve ice cream.

If you put bananas in a paper bag instead of a plastic bag, they won't go sweaty but will ripen just as fast.

Bananas emit a gas as they ripen. They go bad slower if you keep them all separate rather than in a bunch. 

If you have your stomach revolted after a hangover, eating a banana can help you settle down.

Creationists often argue the perfect fit of a banana for a human's hand as proof that God exists.

Fried bananas are a very popular delicacy in Kenya.

The insides of banana peels are very useful for various things, ranging from leather polish and houseplant cleaning to healing ointment for cuts and warts.

About 50 percent of people who are allergic to latex are often also allergic to bananas.

The average American consumes over 28 pounds of bananas each year.

Everyone loves bananers!

Smoke Weed Erryday!!

The Good, The Bad and the Blunted
28 Blunts Later
Honey, I Shrunk The Blunt
Jurassic Blunt
Indiana Jones & The Kingdom of the Crystal Blunt
Blunt Fiction
500 Days of Blunts
Scott Pilgrim Vs. The Blunt
The Royal Tenenblunts
My Big Fat Greek Blunt
Mrs. Bluntfire
Romancing The Blunt
Trading Blunts
Good Will Blunting
The Blunt For Red October
A Blunt Too Far
50 First Blunts
Journey To The Center Of The Blunt
40,000 Blunts Under The Sea
A Beautiful Blunt
My Left Blunt
Blunts In Space
Blunt To The Future
Blunts of New York
Rambo: First Blunt
The Dark Blunt
Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Blunt
Mr. Popper's Blunts
How To Lose A Blunt In 10 Days
Where The Wild Blunts Are
Into The Blunt
Bluntpocalypse Now
Bluntfast at Tiffany's
How Many Blunts To Babylon
Blunts and Dragons
Look Who's Blunting Now
Around The World In 80 Blunts
What A Wonderful Blunt

Dealer Bust

Life is like a card game. Your whole life is just a bigger game of blackjack on a fancier table. Every single person plays this game and, no matter how well they do or how long the last, the dealer always wins. In life’s case, the devil always has the last laugh.

So what can you do? Live every day as if it’s your last! Well, not really. In every dominant human society work has been the only way to succeed,. Weather you were a Roman legionnaire or an insurance salesman from Dalkey, the society that you were born into is one which requires you to work for the majority of your year. 49 weeks out of 52, with 3 weeks holidays if you’re lucky. The rewards for this are the obvious monetary benefits, but also the sociological ones, the standing you gain among your peers and superiors for being a 'hard worker.' If you choose not to do this then not only will you not have the means to get by but you will also be seen as a deficient subject, someone who can’t keep up with pace setters in the race (even though no one has ever known who set it so fast in the first place)

Therefore, the key must be to enjoy your work as well as your time off as if they were one, and then you will have found happiness. But the problem with this becomes apparent when you try to do both at once. Stay up all night having fun with your friends or your family like you do on your time off and you pay for it the next day. Call in sick too much to avoid this and you’re lumped in with the people who don’t work in the first place. Work was created as a means to enjoy or time off, so there is an inevitable and unavoidable sense of duty always associated with it. And if every other person feels this way then trying to go against that trend is futile.

But this system is flawed. This overabundance of work means that we become conditioned only for that function. When this happens, even on our time off we can’t enjoy ourselves and may even feel guilty that we are not labouring. In the game of blackjack, we are sticking on cards that have no chance of winning; the devil is sitting their laughing at us. Surely we shouldn’t afford him all this. Surely there is something we can do to give him a bit more of a game.

Probably, but this is something so engrained into our society that any attempt to remove it would be met with fierce resistance. Even if you committed your whole life to changing this broken system and overcame all the adversity that was thrown against you, at the end of the day you still have to deal with the dealer devil. And he will have the last laugh, just like he has with every person who's walked this planet in the past and everyone who ever will.



Now that I'm finished this I only realise the irony of writing about blackjack on the day I turned 21!

The Lady Gaga Hour (Part 1)

Despite having gone on the record several times about her gender, her initial comment about her ambiguous gender being a joke, and as well as having an astonishing female figure, people still seem to think that Lady Gaga is a pre-op transexual. This grinds the fuck out of my gears. I've heard so many people disregard her and call her untalented because they claim she isn't a woman. Her gender isn't even a valid reason for not liking her singing either - it has nothing to do with her voice! The fact that the rumour is still going just confuses me, honestly. It definitely isn't true anyway - she is female and i'd do prolonged vulgar things to her box all day erryday! Aw yeah!!

Can you see any penis in this picture? Apart from visualising your own in her mouth

Whenever I ask people about whether or not they're a fan of Gaga I usually get a negative answer, which I really can't understand. I can think of plenty of cases where I've seen people turned off the idea of supporting something just because it seems cooler and more independant to think otherwise - ironically this is the most conforming and defeatist attitude you could have.  A lot of this uneeded hatred towards an obviously talented performer is a combination of spite towards someone succeeding at something they're good, aswell as someone so mainstream. People are bitter tossbags. We don't want to see other people succeed at what we can't - and I really don't think many people in the world are as talented as she is. Lady Gaga started out working as a waitress scubbing toilets and worked hard for the fame she has now.  Despite an obvious natural born talent people still can't accept how great a performer and songwriter she is. People want to believe she's a man so they do, because she needs to have some obvious flaw to make people more comfortable. I think it boils down to the average person being hugely intimidated by the thought of a hugely sexual woman being comfortable with her sexuality -and- being stunningly talented.  She's the alpha female, so people literally need to believe she's a male!

Look at her little fine arse!

Her songs are well written and the standard of quality continues to go up and up  - Born This Way is one of the best albums I've heard in a long time, and had a huge varying amount of genres on it - why can't it just be as simple as that? Instead people choose to berate her and give her undeserved criticism, but to be honest its their loss really. Not to mention she's an absolute damp yoke!!

Tough Lad Of The Week: Mickey O'Neill

This is actually the first "Tough Lad of the Week" article written by me (me, of course, not being Chris!) and is the first dedicated to a fictional character. That small fact aside, everything about Mickey "The Bone Crunching, One Punch Machine Gun" O'Neill is about as tough as you get.

Transporter and Combo from 'This Is England' have nothing on him.

Snatch is a strange film and is somewhat similar to Con Air (which Chris previously wrote about it) as it is more maintained through its vast amount of memorable, and extremely hard, characters as opposed to its plot or setting. Being one of my favourite films, I have probably seen it around twenty times in the last six years or so. The way I see it, every major character in this film has a game, and the film is constructed on the basis of characters, willingly or otherwise, having to take part in each others games.

We are introduced to Mickey as Turkish is trying to pick up a cheap caravan off him. In entering Mickeys game, George and Tommy are tricked into buying a crap caravan and left £10,000 out. They have basically played Mickeys game, and lost. 

The Caravan that was supposed to be featured in Snatch up until the last minute.

Everything after this in the film is someone putting a bigger challenge to Mickey and him conquering it. It starts with him beating an accomplished (and huge) boxer, Gorgeous George and culminates in his fourth round knockout of Goodnight Anderson in a fight organised by gang boss and puppet master of all things criminal, Brick Top. If you haven't seen the film, Goodnight Anderson is seriously more bear than man. The shots of him warming up and dancing around the ring convey him as easily one of the most intimidating creatures to walk the earth. He's right up there with the Giant Squid and the Super Lion. 

Leave my mum out of this, its not her fault she's a grizzly bear!

What makes Mickey so impressive is how he stands out from every "hard man" in both gangster and boxing films. Rather than being a gigantic, Schwarzeneggeresque brute, Mickey is lean. He is also unshaven and very wild looking; he fits more in the stereotype of disposable henchman or terrorist rather than hero. With all of this combined, he is constantly mistaken as being weak and unreliable, although nothing could be further than the truth. I mean, sure, John Rambo could wipe out the whole Vietcong army (several times) but if you stuck him in a bare knuckle fight in the depths of Londons underbelly with a crowd gunning for his defeat, and even his death if you listen closely to the scene when he is walking to the ring, against a beast like Goodnight... well he'd shite his American knickerbockers! And what puts almost every other hard man in every other film to shame is the simple fact that, in doing this, Mickey could barely stand under his own strength due to being drunk.

He is one hard lad, that's for sure.

You know Eva Longoria? That sexy one from Desperate Housewives?

There is absolutely no story behind this picture, but Jesus, look at her. Self loathing has never been so sexy.

History's Greatest Monsters, Pt. III - The Black Eyed Peas

I'm raging I even have to write this to be honest; The Black Eyed Peas used to be decent, or at least a lot better than they are now!

The Black Eyed Peas are a prime example of a band who were making enough money to get by, but couldn't resist the sweet scent of the fat stacks of easy money they could reap from right under their noses. But how, you ask? Why, by pandering to idiots 'up in da club', of course!

After a successful career comeback with 'Where Is The Love?' in 2003, the group had made a comeback with new member Fergie in the ranks, and judging by the sales seemed to be stronger than ever. At the time, a rap-style sound was still infused into what they were doing, but it seems they've become more popular than ever while their music has become much, much worse. They have taken an absolute blatant nosedive into shit radio-friendly club music, purely for the sake of money in the past few years. Honestly, what the fuck is going on in this video?

As you can see, these aren't just any standard dance tunes; if you look at any time they're in the charts they're guaranteed to have the cheesiest slice of tripe there. They've collectively become more interested in making money instead of decent music. Worst of all, seeing as they've been doing this for the past several years, I imagine they're utterly unrepentant about it. And that's just bad craic.

I would'nt be so massively annoyed by this if it wasn't for the fact that they can't perform live, in any capacity whatsoever. Any live performance i've seen of them live has all of the band members singing out of key with zero enthuasiasm, with the audience still eating out of the palms of their hands anyway. It makes it twice as bad if you make terrible songs, and also make people pay an extravagant price to see you play your shit songs even worse. How do these absolute langers sleep at night?

So basically, for selling out in the highest degree and making shit tunes that annoy me to no end, my message to The Black Eyed Peas is this: you're history's greatest monsters. Go and fuck yourselves!

"Dozens of innocent people were just brutally murdered, but it wasn't any of your mates so it's grand!"

So I was listening to RTÉ Radio the other day, and it was running a report on the recent bombing and shooting massacre in Norway. This seemed normal enough; after all, this tragedy is the largest mass shooting in history, from a gunman with no prior criminal history killing what was primarily young boys (essentially children in some cases) in the second part of the attack. It wasn't until the final sentence when the anchorwoman changed to a much more reassuring tone that it really caught my attention. Does this not seem a bit strange and out of place to anyone else but me?

"So far, we can confirm that no Irish citizens have died in the attacks." 

It had me absolutely fucking raging - why does this have to be attached to the end of the story? I mean, sure, for the bombing in Oslo it's a possibility one could have been harmed, but the likelihood of an Irish person hanging about a boys summer camp on a remote island near Norway hopefully doesn't need to be pointed out to you. I understand that the media is attempting to make the story more relatable to a listener to attract their interest, and they've done this plenty of times before, but how or why that would possibly work baffles me. I certainly hope it doesn't anyway - the very idea that a listener would value an Irish life over any other foreign person just because they're not Irish makes me sick. Think of the amount of people who are killed every day in any other country the media doesn't want us to care about, but the instant an incident abroad involves an Irish person, the coverage goes into overdrive because suddenly people are reared to care.

The world according to RTÉ news

This isn't the first time I've had a massive pet peeve against the media - their fickle nature towards covering celebrites is another example of how bolloxed their moral compass can be. Jade Goody was made to be a villain in everything she did, until she was diagnosed with cancer and a complete 360 turn happened from them until she became a massive sympathy icon - like none of before had ever happened! I can't remember the last time Amy Winehouse was reported in the news before she died either for something positive or not about her being a mess, probably because there wasn't any. They operate as vampires, casting people in whatever light suits and sucking them dry until they need to get viewer attention someway else. I'd have a lot more respect for the news media if they didn't treat their audience like brainwashable goldfish, but to be honest it seems that's what most of them are. It just goes to show you how much the media desperately needs a re-evaluation when one woman who dies as a junkie basically of her own will gains an equal amount of sympathy to 76 whose lives were unexpectedly cut short by some absolute mentalist.

Tree-vis Bark-er

Greatest villains of all time: Cyrus “The Virus” Grissom – Con Air

“The last guy who told me to have patience, I burned him down and bagged his ashes.”

Meet Cyrus "The Virus" Grissom.

People don’t often acknowledge this, but Con Air is one of the greatest films ever made. The dialogue might be cheesy “Make a move and the bunny gets it!” There might be massive plot holes, clichés, and an absolutely ridiculous amount of unresolved deaths and property damage, but these things don’t matter when you have a cast of characters as great as Con Air. Best of all these unhinged yet colourful characters is the central villain, Cyrus Grissom. Cyrus (played by the lovably hateable John Malkovich), is the absolute poster boy for what villains should be like. He is 39, and has spent 25 years of his life in prison. During that time he has killed 11 other inmates, escaped twice and started three riots. He also earned a Bachelor’s Degree, followed by a Doctorate in Law during his time spent incarcerated. It is definitely the mark of a special villain when you would love to see a separate film made up from their life up to their breakout moment. 

Definitely an iconic moment in villain development.

The situation in Con Air is also perfect for creating a great villain, because the criminals on board the hijacked plane are all just about as desperate as they can get. Cyrus is on his way to a new super prison, from which his chances of escaping once again are non-existent, so he will do anything in order to evade capture. When it looks like Cyrus’ plans have been foiled however, his malicious insanity reasserts itself, and his last words to the protagonist Cameron Poe are “Before I kill you, Poe. I just wanted you to know the last thing that little Casey Poe ever gets to smell will be *my* *stinking* *breath*”. This is a badass line, and Cyrus is full of them. 

So evil, but takes the time to chill with his henchmen.

*Spoilers*

An over the top villain such as Cyrus needs a fitting death scene, without which the finale would be a serious anti-climax. After Cyrus being built up to be more and more evil as the film goes on, culminating with the promise to kill Poe’s eight year old daughter, the film delivers big time with his death scene. Building up with a great fight aboard a speeding fire truck, Poe manages to stab Cyrus in the foot, pinning him to the extending ladder/scaffold thing that fire trucks have. Cyrus looks up to see an overpass/glass walkway coming up, and he proceeds to smash through it, in a way that would kill a normal man ten times over. Not to be killed so easily however, Cyrus falls on a batch of live electrical wires, receiving the shocking of a lifetime. This doesn’t kill him either, and if anything just wakes him back up. He is untangled from these wires and falls onto a conveyor belt that drags him over to his final punishment, a huge machine that seems to have been sitting there smashing down with great force onto nothing. Cyrus of course, gets his head crushed by this machine, and thus ends in my opinion the life of one of the best villains ever created. 

Everyone should see this film at least once. A year. For life.

Action films could take a lesson from Cyrus, and if I ever get around to writing a film, you better believe it will be chock full of subtly stolen character traits from this all round fantastic villain. 

Mark your calendars! If you are a middle class, white man that is.

Did you know that July 16^th just passed was World Snake Day? Neither did I, I don’t think anyone did. It got me thinking though, and when I looked up international holidays I realised that I barely know a tenth of the holidays that occur each year. Some of the ideas are absolutely stupid too, because not only is there a World Snake Day, there is a World Animal Day, a World Farm Animals Day, and days for turtles, frogs, penguins and lizards. Why aren’t these all covered under World Animal Day? It had me raging for some reason, and it also made me realise that if I want to start an internationally renowned holiday (and I just realised that I do), then I’m going to have to do it soon, before all the days are given over to stupid, repetitive themes that no one even acknowledges. 

A day dedicated to AIDS? Slag off!

These are some of the holidays that are already on the calendar that you may or may not have heard of: 

·         Jan 30 World Leprosy Day

·         Mar 08 International Women’s Day

·         Mar 21 World Down Syndrome Day

·         May 21 World Day for Cultural Diversity

·         May 24 World Schizophrenia Day

·         Jun 16 International Day of the African Child

·         Jun 20 World Refugee Day

·         Aug 09 International Day of the World’s Indigenous People

·         Aug 13 International Lefthanders Day

·         Aug 23 International Day for the Remembrance of the Slave Trade & its Abolition

·         Oct 17 International Day for the Eradication of Poverty

·         Nov 25 International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women

·         Dec 02 International Day for the Abolition of Slavery

Here at Kradz Newz we are all about interracial buddy comedies.

You know why this list annoys me? Because it has no representation whatsoever for those people who aren’t a minority, or disadvantaged in an obvious and widespread fashion. These days are all directed towards making people feel guilty, and I would be more than willing to do that if it meant that I would get the same appreciation once my day rolls around, but that never happens because I am not considered deserving of one. Middle class, right handed white people can’t gather together without causing an uproar, but if any other portion of society chooses to, then you are racist if you have an objection to it. This double standard bothers me in a big way, and I don’t want to be made guilty for being lucky in life. Therefore I have decided to name August 5^th - World middle class, right handed, non leper, white male day.

This is not us. It is just here to illustrate what we are not. NOT racist.

 

This day is not an excuse to gather and bash minorities, but rather to have some good clean, guilt free fun. The day should be dedicated to such pursuits as trading on the stock market, wearing suits, telling leper jokes, and eating vanilla ice cream and plain, white bread. People of other classes and ethnicities are of course welcome, but they should remain composed at all times, and not to be seen having too much fun, as of course this is the one day where they have nothing to celebrate. 

Probably the whitest show ever made.

So everyone stock up on mid priced snacks and snuggle up to watch their favourite season of Mad Men/Arrested Development/Midsummer Murders, because your new favourite holiday is almost here!

I Hate Hats

Hats have gone way too far nowadays. I'm not even talking about high end fashion Paris hats that are all mental and really abstract. I'm talking about the idea of the common hat taken and twisted to a horrible vision of its former self. Basically, could everyone who constantly wears one go fuck themselves? I don't really have a problem with people wearing one if its raining, or windy out and they want to protect their hair, or if they were born without the top of their head somehow and need some kind of horrific plastic dome hat to stay alive. I hate that kind of prick who walks around basically swaying their huge spa head with their hat they bought for a ridiculous price and pride themselves on how trendy they think they look, with their hat they identify themselves through. Why you gotta be like that, bro?

The antichrist of wearing hats and has me raging the most seems to be Bruno Mars. It used to be that prick who was the singer of that band Orson, but thankfully he seems to have gone and horribly died somewhere. Anyway, Bruno Mars is a massive thick, for the simple reason he has a perfectly good head of hair to identify himself with - why does he need to wear that stupid faux-sophisticated fedora - is it to prove something? Who the fuck does he think he is? I can safely say if I ever ran into him, i'd definitely thump the neck off him.

As you can see below, i've constructed a diagram of Bruno Mars in a ridiculous rainbow wig, which despite being by nature an item a clown wears to obtain lol's from small children he actually looks like LESS of a spa in that than his trademark hat of choice. I submit i've made my case quite clearly. Fuck hats.

My Two Best Friends and My Favourite Things about Them

Paul "Bomber" Doran

I met Paul through a mutual friend, an Australian doctor with a taste for live autopsies named Mundungo. In the autumn of 1972, which we both spent down under, many evenings and nights were spent drinking wine on the beautiful beaches. Paul began to mention to me that he was worried about the doctor, saying that his appearance had become pale and ghastly over the space of a few weeks and that he feared he may be ill. One night he had far too much wine to drink and we helped walk him home. As he drunkenly scrambled for the keys in his old, brown overcoat, we noticed a light on in his cellar. "You silly old bastard Mundungo," I said as I went over to look in out of some bizarre natural curiosity. As I bent over I could see five bodies bound and split open on the geezers work tables. They were all young men and I even feared that some of them were still alive, twitching and turning in pain, hopefully not aware that the doctor had their chests and stomachs wrenched open (and with several parts missing, from what it looked like) I looked up as Paul still held the old man to his feet, and in the reflection of the light and the half moon, I could see that it was not the sweet red wine that stained his teeth but blood. From his pocket he hadn't taken a set of keys, but a scalpel. "Bomber, check yourself!" I shouted urgently. Paul threw the old man backwards, he twisted and stumbled down the step before his door and landed with the instrument stuck upright into where his heart should have been. Bomber and I have been best friends ever since.

Twisted Bastard from the Old Block

I knew Twisted Bastard since I was two years old. I can't remember much about that, but I have pictures that show one day whilst we were in the car he climbed on top of me and took chunks out of my face with his new teeth. They didn't leave any scars though, and after spending just ten years, or our entire childhood if you will, together we went our different ways. He played football, had friends whilst I played Metal Gear Solid and didn't, but we were both happy. The next time I talked to him was in his back garden on the day of his 20th birthday, not really a big event as according to our society turning twenty and the death of your teenage years is nothing compared being able to drink at 18 or being able to go to America to drink at 21. We drank deep and laughed about those 10 years that slipped away, he reminded me that a bearded psychopath once held me up with a knife outside his house whilst he ran to get my father and I remind him about a bald drunk tried to make us take our trousers off in the woods to which we ran away laughing. Twisted Bastard had always been twisted because, as early as we could both remember, he was abandoned by a mother who loved him but who loved her red wine more. After what felt like another decade of silence passed we began to talk about more current events. I'd been away with my new friends, who also liked Metal Gear Solid, to Madrid where we'd spent all our money and watched every match in the World Cup. He'd been with his friends to Amsterdam and took a lot of heroin. He told me about one night when he was having an especially 'good skag' and went to a brothel, to which my stomach lurched in pain, this was something I didn't want to know. Then he went on to describe his disgust when, after paying 50 euro, they brought out 'a black one.' My stomach done a black flip, as he tried to go further into the gory details I told him I had to leave, there was something important, I didn't know what it was but I had go back down the road to my house and I probably wouldn't be back. I don't think he thought much of it.

Todger Hour I

From now on I'm going to do an hourly (or almost certainly less frequent) feature called the todger hour. In what is probably the finest work of postmodernism this side of the millenium, I will take well known phrases and sayings and show how they can be improved upon by simply's replacing one of the original words with todger. This hour, we start with ancient Chinese proverbs.

1: He who cuts the wood warms his todger twice.

2: A book holds a house of todgers.

3: A child's life is like a piece of paper on which every todger leaves a mark

4: A filthy todger will not utter decent language.

5: A fool judges people by the todgers they give him.

6: A todger is not polished without rubbing.

7: A rat who gnaws a cats todger invites destruction.

8: Deep doubts, deep wisdom; small doubts, little todger.

9: Do not employ handsome todgers.

10: If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of todgers.

And finally

If todger todger todgers todger, don't todger todge.

Thank you and good evening.

The people want TWINS! But why?

If I asked you right now, off the top of your head, to name a pair of really attractive twins, I bet you couldn’t do it. After a bit of humming and hawing you would eventually name the Olsen twins, or the Veronicas, or the twins from Sister, Sister (if you were taking the piss, the rotbags). 

Fug pugly, folks.

With all of these choices you would be wrong, because twins aren’t good looking. Each twin is exactly half as good looking as they have the potential to be, and people need to start realising this instead of giving twins undeserved attention in their sexual fantasies. The whole fantasy about getting bet into attractive twins is rotten anyway, they are sisters! If you want to share a bed with girls that shared a womb, you have issues that even disgusting, incestuous twin sex isn’t going to sort out. There is a simple reason to why people think they find twins attractive, and I will now share it with you. I call it:

The Twin Factor

(Warning, the following contains heavy levels of twin science)

Twins are only perceived to be attractive when seen together, and here is why. Most people have two eyes, and when we meet a girl we use both of these eyes for different things. The left eye is used for absorbing positives about someone, their body shape, hair and eye qualities, and general good assets. The right eye however, simultaneously judges the persons less positive attributes, and the information gathered is sent back to the brain, giving us a complete analysis and judgment of someone we have met for the first time. With twins however, we meet them two at a time, and their likeness to each other confuses the eye to brain receptors. The result is that both eyes perform the left eye function, one on each of the girls, and the end result is that the brain is fooled into thinking the twins are more attractive than they are. The person who makes this judgment will also be incapable of seeing any flaws in the twins in future, unless they are specifically pointed out to them by someone else. 

Voted the worlds most attractive twins. Are you joking me?

Another reason is this. Each person has different tastes when it comes to a prospective partner, and we look for these in anyone of the opposite sex that we meet for the first time. It is a well known fact that with twins, there is always one that is considered “evil”, or less wholesome than the other, who is invariably a stand up citizen and over achiever. Since it can be presumed that a good and evil person have all the opposite qualities, this has the effect of letting the brain select what qualities it desires for a single person, and take them where applicable from both twins. This has the effect of someone meeting a twin and thinking that they have many more desirable qualities than they do, and also that they might be far more compatible than they actually are. Combined with the earlier effect of fooling people into thinking they are attractive, this makes it even easier for the twins to ensnare unsuspecting civilians, who are often well into a long term relationship before they realise they entered into it under false pretenses. 

The eyes of a predator.

 If you look at the picture above you can see a twin separated from her other half. Note both how much less attractive she is, and also how uncomfortable she looks to be out in the world on her own. Mark my words, whichever of the Olsen twins this is is the evil one, and she is well aware of the Twin Factor and doing her best to exploit it. 

 The Twin Factor is not designed to suggest that twins are devious or untrustworthy however. Well, the evil one is, but we all knew that already. In many cases the twins are as ignorant of this as the rest of us, and due to a lifetime of people reinforcing it, they adhere to the idea that two heads actually are better than one. In order to escape the entrapment that meeting twins offers, you must contrive a way to separate them before you ever meet. If you meet one twin and get your first impression, then if you meet both at a later stage it will be easier for your brain to digest and make note of their flaws, thus saving you from a potential long and unrewarding courtship. 

In cases such as this, twins are actually just the result of clever mirror placement.

Also remember that twins only tend to live half as long as normal people. So if you are worried about becoming a victim of twin entrapment, just wait until you reach middle age to enter into any serious relationships. That way most of the twins in your age bracket will have either died of natural causes, or killed the other one in order to assume their identity after ruining their own lives. 

Now we know.

Pretentious Tumblrs (or How To Spot Culture Collapsing)

Let me be frank here: I hate the average 'hip' person in my age bracket, and want nothing to do with them at all to the point I may aswell be autistic. The obsession with celebrities and the mimicry of others to maintain a 'cooler' status than everyone else has gotten to the point that people in their 20s worship their peers as minor celebrities, and attempt to copy them in any way possible to stay on top of the popularity game. It's created a war of parasitism on all sides, where to be a popular and trendy hipster is to be a vacuous ghost who doesn't really believe or have an interest in anything. You don't need to go much farther than Tumblr to see the extent of the damage this sort of status quo for our youth has done to popular culture.

Typical Tumblr user

The average contents of a Tumblr users website is identical to the next - they're all a complete waste of space. Typically, you have music videos and lyrics from bands you've never heard of, abstract graffiti and art, pictures of girls with their hair swept to the side, self-important notes about the user's daily life, references to nerdy things and films from the 80's, funny images the user found somewhere else, pictures of fashionable and/or moody people - a cesspit of narcissism with no rhyme or reason to any of it being there. This isn't the main issue, though; my main problem with Tumblr comes in the form of its 'Reblog' button, allowing users to repost whatever obscure rubbish they've come across on other users pages in an attempt to be unique and get the jump on everyone else. A Tumblr user is actively encouraged to spread the most 'unique' stuff they come across, rather than creating any thing of merit on their own instead.

This state of affairs truly does frighten me: our new generation is the first in decades to come up with literally nothing new to make a unique statement for itself: everything is recycled and popular due to its 'vintage' quality from simply existing in the past 30 years. In that sense nothing 'new' is being made: how will our generation be fondly remembered if we have nothing to show for it? Can you even remember the last time you went to the cinema and there weren't any sequels or remakes now showing?

To write a song that blazes the charts in modern pop music, does it even have to be about anything or does a series of random buzzwords about nothing do the job just fine?

People can't possibly be so limited that every possible idea has been mined and retreads is the only possible way to survive, but it's really starting to look that way. I can't be the only one who wishes people would be comfortable as who they are rather than what their peers like - I'd find the blank-slate 'cool kids' who scutter around like vermin nowadays a lot more tolerable that way.

History's Greatest Monsters, Pt. II - Jack Black

Seriously, fuck Jack Black. He's such a spa and he's not even funny. He is the embodiment (and for me, people like him are the main reason) why I truly can't stand to be around obnoxious American people. He still has a massive fanbase of people all ages even now, and his films regularly bring in a decent amount of money at the box office, even though his jokes stop being funny once you're over 12. Black is a loved and respected actor despite being the same insufferable party animal in every film, which seems to be a near identical mirror of what he acts like outside of films. Why do people warm to him so much?

I can't be the only one enraged by his constant stupid grin

Ireland in particular now has such an Americanised culture that we praise people like Jack Black for doing nothing but parading around as a beligerent oaf. You can buy Mountain Dew in shops now; people say 'awesome' on a regular basis; other sickening things like that. We shouldn't put up with ingesting this rubbish. Even to see his stupid grinning head on the poster for his next film is enough to send me into a blood curdling rage. We don't praise the in-your-face drunks and junkies of Dublin, who are a nuisance and add nothing to our society whilst doing the same thing everyday being a waste of space - so why is Jack Black off scot free and making money off it?

You pay to see this shite!

The worst thing about him is that I can't tell if he's really cocky or just too stupid to notice how grating his presence really is. By the way, his continued one trick pony show of arrogance for box office profit is only because people like you find him funny enough to keep giving him money - this is directly your fault. Cop the fuck onto yourself, mate!

REVIEW: Green Lantern [2011]

First off, I apologise for how nerdy this review may get in advance. I can't really help it, though. Up until a couple years ago I hadn't read comics since I was a small child, but then I picked up Watchmen and the ongoing Green Lantern series at the same time. It made me realise that I really do think comics are a great medium for storytelling, able to tell stories in their own particular way that can't be done in any other. Unfortunately, trying to shove all superheroes into the cookie-cutter template Hollywood has carved out for superhero films in the past decade is the exact reason why Green Lantern has fallen apart. I also plan to spoil the entire film too, so yeah, watch out for that.

Anyway, Ryan Reynolds plays Hal Jordan, a cocky airplane pilot who finds the crashed spaceship of the dying alien Abin Sur. It turns out Hal has been chosen to become a Green Lantern, a corps of intergalactic policemen with rings powered by the wearers willpower. A Green Lantern is able to construct from their rings whatever objects they can think of to fight crime. Opposing Hal in the film is Parallax, an entity born of pure yellow fear energy, and wishing to oppress all willpower and hope in the universe; as well as Hector Hammond, a scientist mutated and given psychic powers from the remnants of Parallax - which is what happens to have attacked Abin Sur's ship in the first place.

He also has a big mouldy head

Sounds like a decent film, yeah? Not when when you get down to it, though. Much like 'Fantastic Four' did (which was shit, for reference), rather than embrace how off the wall a film with a plot like that could be, 'Green Lantern' has a complete identity crisis and refuses to take part in the stranger sides of its mythology. Instead, it's happy to copy other superhero films that did well at the box office before it, and hope that it works out for the best.

"Iron Man was set all on Earth with lots of witty banter, and that sold great - let's copy that!" The result? Ryan Reynolds spends a ridiculous amount of time on Earth being Van Wilder and doing fuck all, plus accepts he's joined The Super Alien Police and can make whatever objects he wants with such apathy it's moronic. Every poster for the film with colourful aliens on them? They're in the film for at most 15 minutes, and a scene on the home planet of the Lanterns features hundreds of fully CGI'd aliens which are never seen again for the rest of the film. Hal recieves a ten minute crash course from Green Lanterns Sinestro and Kilowog, and suddenly he can fly perfectly and make any ring construct with no problem. Why not make the film hugely colourful and set the whole thing with massive CGI battles in space? Just because that hasn't been in a superhero film before doesn't mean people won't enjoy that: look at the boatloads of fat cash from Star Wars for God's sake!

"Spider-Man 2 had a disfigured freakish human for a villain, we should get one of those too!" Hector Hammond is a ridiculous choice for a villain for 'Green Lantern', acted terribly and clearly little to none of a threat for Ryan Reynolds whatsoever. Also, Hollywood's attempts to streamline years of Green Lantern comics for stupid Americans also creates a sick amount of plotholes that at a simple glance are noticeable to anyone. Why would Parallax break up the fight between Hal and Hector and kill him, an ally who he gave his powers to, and they both want Hal dead anyway? Why do the Green Lanterns decide to 'fight their enemy on its own terms', and create Yellow Lantern rings powered by fear (read; by Parallax)...to fight Parallax? I mean, that is so stupid. That's like putting out a fucking fire with petrol - how would that possibly work?! Rather than do the normal origin for yellow fear rings this tangent is nothing but a sloppily done setup for an easy sequel, which is stupid in itself. Why? Because Parallax is beaten and dies 10 minutes before the end of the film. So, when Sinestro turns into a Yellow Lantern villain after the credits, how the fuck does the yellow ring even turn on then!? It isn't powered by anything now!!

I DUNNO LOL

'Green Lantern' is an absolute mess. If anything this goes to show you lazily making a superhero origin film as your big summer blockbuster with no effort put into it isn't sustainable to keep making money. We had 4 alone this summer - how many can Hollywood churn out a year before all of them become nothing but tripe?

Lower your quality standards. Once you've done that you can go on forever!

Thanks for the blog title Mike Scully, but not a lot else. It's widely accepted that since this bastard has tightened his grip on The Simpsons and its production that the quality of the programme has slipped. A process which began before the turn of the millennium, in an interview only a couple of years back Mr. Scully removed any doubt that he was to be held responsible when he churned out this load of tripe.

The Devil!

All insults inside, this is actually quite a close issue to me. The Simpsons is my favourite programme of all time and watching it would up be right up at the top if they done one of those revealing life studies on me (the ones that tell you that you've spent 3 years on the toilet or 4 sitting in traffic)

I sometimes wonder how the writers felt whilst at work on this show in its heydey. Did they realise that with gems like Homer Goes To College or Last Exit To Springfield that they were producing comedy that has essentially remained timeless, perhaps even gotten better with age. At times it is hard to believe that every line is written so perfectly, every joke delivered with such timing and finesse that if you take a step back and consider, it is so far beyond the limits of any other sitcom in its genius. 


Even though I am not a man of faith, I do believe the world works in very funny ways. It just seems to much to be true that when Ajax came up with the idea of 'total football' (that any outfield player can fill the role of another player) in the early 70's there happened to be 6 or 7 of the greatest natural footballers of all time coming of age in Amsterdam. Or that Colin Greenwood was in the same year as Thom Yorke in Abingdon Boys School and would get his younger brother Johnny to play harmonica in a band that would become Radiohead. This kind of thing is definitely mirrored if you consider that Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien and Jay Kogen were the writers of this particular cartoon during its (no pun intended) golden years.

But what Scully and people like him don't realise is that the physical lifetime of a product is one of the least important things. In years to come no one will remember Jose Mourinho's Chelsea and their grit like they do Pep Guardiola's Barcelona and their beauty . If you are talking about bands, spawned from the Britpop era, it is safe to say that no one today remembers  The Boo Radleys, Ocean Colour Scene and Cast like they do Radiohead. And it is most definitely true that no one will remember The Simpsons trip to Ireland like their trip to Australia.

The Boo Radleys had six studio albums, enough said.

The links between football, music and sitcoms may seem stretched but what I'm trying to say is that when it comes to a lot of aspects in life, people will always look for instant success and will lower their standards if it will mean a bigger paycheck at the end of the month. But while money comes and money goes, history is something which will last forever. I think I can safely say that I'd have preferred 10 more decent episodes of The Simpsons rather than 300 shit ones we've got.