This is one of my favourite articles that I’ve ever written, so it’d be awesome if you guys could be all supportive and whatnot, and give it a read, a repost, or a like. Click the link below to be taken to the full article.
Let’s get one thing straight: you should always avoid standard public transport. Get a car, ride a bike, use your actual human walking legs, whatever; just make your way to your destination without having to set foot on a bus, train, or tram. So fraught with danger and unpleasant tension are they, that if one is foolish, or desperate, enough to utilise them, they must take the most precise and delicate of precautions to remain anonymous; lest you breathe at someone the wrong way and have your peaceful train carriage become the setting for a reenactment of the Leonardo DiCaprio’s mansion shoot out scene from Django Unchained.
I had just about finished getting showered and dressed and was just drying my hair, when in walked Cock Out Man. As you can guess from his name, Cock Out Man had his cock out, proudly dangling away as he swung his hips and gayly (old meaning) strolled past me with a skip in his step. Now, this doesn’t bother me. I’m fine about my physical appearance, but at the same time, I have the modesty to make sure that the amount of locker room penile exposure is kept to a minimum on my part, mainly as a courtesy for the other men there who would inevitably start to feel insecure in my presence (ladies?). Cock Out Man, on the other hand, had no such reservations. Not only was he comfortable with cock exposure, but he stood in the corner of the room, facing outward, flicking around on his phone for a few minutes, without a hint of concealment.
Now, you know how when you already think someone is weird, so you keep an eye (not directly in this case) on them, and suddenly they do something even weirder, and it’s so much funnier because you were already watching them? Well, I had my eye (again, not directly) on Cock Out Man, waiting to see how long he was going to live up to his name. Then something really bizarre happened… Continue reading →
If I ever meet one of those people who introduces themselves by saying their name, followed by ‘of‘ and the name of their company that they’ve named after themselves, you can bet your fucking legs that I will elbow drop them on the top of the head.
I recently made a joke on Twitter regarding the past incident of Chris Brown’s abuse of Rihanna, but after I posted it, I immediately thought about how insane it is that this topic, even after several years, has been allowed to slide away into the realm of jokes (albeit fantastic ones in my case). Continue reading →
Obviously my own feelings of the legitimacy of the matter aren’t hard to guess. However, for the sake of this article, I will try not to simply summarise this practice with one of the many vulgar four letter words that are currently piling up on the tip of my tongue, gently rapping on my teeth, begging to be freed from their oral captivity.
Internet people are fun. I don’t usually bother replying to this kind of tedious antagonism, but this guy was pretty insistent. I actually had a look at his twitter history, and he’s the kind of asshole who tweets “hey sexi, wanna fuck?” to every female he can find. Idiot.
“Aliens are real. There really was an alien crash landing in 1947 near the Roswell Army Air Field, and the United States Government really did cover it up.”
These are the claims that were recently being made by a former CIA operative named Chase Brandon; claims which are of course, entirely fictional. He asserted that he came across secret documents and photographs in a oddly placed cardboard box during a visit to a public CIA library. The infamous Roswell Incident that he is speaking off has long ago been debunked as the recovery of a Mogul balloon, and putting aside the menagerie of pop-culture traditions; sci-fi movies, conspiracy theories, and other such nonsense, the case is relatively closed.
So what on Earth (and I assure you, it is on Earth), made him come forward with these outlandish claims?
In a usually pedantic mood, I decided to wander around my bar today and point out all of the things that contained grammatical and/or spelling errors; which, as it turns out, was just about everything. It started to annoy me to think about how little people care. This is a place of customer-orientated business, and yet there is no concern towards the writing when sending out confirmation emails with typos, displaying menus with grammatical mistakes, or writing up specials with misspelled words. It’s a direct representation of the company itself, and while nine out of ten people around here don’t seem to notice or care, what’s the harm in ensuring that you please ten out of ten people?
After about half an hour of me grumbling about this, a couple of my co-workers asked me why I wasn’t an English teacher, which at first I didn’t read into too much, simply quipping that with them around, I basically was an english teacher; however, something moderately annoying then occurred to me. Continue reading →
There’s a little charity competition thing going at work at the moment, where customers can pay £1 to ‘name the bear‘, and the best name entry gets to keep it.
Anyway, I was having a peer through all the entries today, and some absolute ass hat has entered the name Serendipity.
For a teddy bear. Serendipity.
Oh, aren’t you so quaint and thoughtful? How about ‘Whimsy‘, or ‘A Dream, Perchance‘, or ‘Autumn Smile‘, or ‘Flecks of Memory‘, or ‘I Went to The Park Today, and An Old Man Whispered Soft Things to me Before He Passed Away in My Arms‘.