Saturday, September 09, 2006

THERE BE BASTARDS HERE

It's been a bit of a crappy week.

The cat's still deciding whether to live or die.

Others didn't get a chance to decide.

Ex husbands shouldn't get a chance to decide, three strikes automatic.

A death notice should go in the paper immediately.

It shouldn't go in a week later, like an afterthought.

It shouldn't read as though a robot from Mars wrote it, in Antarctica under an ice floe.

It should not read as though the Blonde is the mother and grandmother of my children.

You, Bastard, should not have used the quotation from our son's grave because that was mine.

Now to other important matters, Brownie has been having trouble with penis enhancement spammers, too many of them. I, on the other hand, aren't getting enough. Well, not enough of the right kind. I'm after a penis reducer. A nice little pill or liquid or patch that would gradually cause the member to retract up past one's balls, if one still has balls (debatable) and finally come to rest in that part of the brain (again debatable) that triggers spontaneous combustion.

I could bang up a spell or two but with the arthritis and global warming, it's hard to know where they'll land these days. Plus there's probably a lot of fat four-eyed gits out there that could get hit in the crossfire. So keep sending the spam you lot but remember the word is reduce, get it.

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

Rest in which brain? Most men have two.

Ron said...

Spring is supposed to be the season of renewal etc etc but it's turning into the shittiest month of the year so far.

Zoe said...

What the hell is it with this week? Everyone is having such a rotten time? My boyfriend just thretened to do himself,i might go check the insurance policy!!!

Daniel said...

Look at it this way - the only way from here is up (or should I say improvement)!

Davo said...

scheiss, and here's me thinking am the only cynic in this world .. bugga.

JahTeh said...

Anonymous is right. I should have said past the two pleasure centres into the extremely small control centre.

Ron is not making a comment. Ron has turned off his computer for a whole week to rest, haven't you Ron? I knew you couldn't do it.

Zoe, I think it's Pluto getting back at us for the demotion.

You're right Daniel, up is where my blood pressure is going but I am looking at clouds, looking at clouds, looking at clouds, damn it's raining on me.

JahTeh said...

At least your canary is still alive and singing, Davo and you can drink, I can't even get tanked.

Link said...

Astrologically speaking Pluto got its own back this week and went from 'retrograde' to 'direct' motion (from where we look at it). For a little unplanet planet, Pluto packs a punch. We also had a full moon in watery Pisces exacerbated by a bit of an eclipse. Life goes on. I've been writing horror scopes and from the bit I've learnt so far, one way or 'tuther we's all in for a white knuckle ride most of the time,fortunately things in the celestial realms are balanced quite nicely, the good comes with the bad. its just that we're so effing faskinated with the bad, we dont' often see the good.

(.. sermon over)

these bloody word verifications do my head in.

Davo said...

mm, canaries. Their names went through Canopus 1 and 2, to Cadmium 1 and 2 (reminiscent of bananas) and have now ended up as C1 and C2. Ah, the travails and expedience of diminishing imagination.. heh.

(but C1 is still chortling magnificently, and C2 still sits, and waits)

Gay Erasmus said...

Agree with Zoe and Ron. It was a crap week. But it's raining like it's still Winter in Sydney, so I figure Spring renewal won't hit until this week. Or something.

JahTeh said...

Astronomers are a bit pissed that such a small number decided what was and was not, a planet. Pluto might be back in and Link's horror scopes could be true. Just have a quick squiz and see if I'm due for tattslotto.

Davo, Davo, have you learnt nothing from the great Hitchcock, watch the quiet one!

GE, I liked your post on the ex-gay movements. They must feel so righteous when they've tormented some poor queer into straightness.