Tag Archives: humor


look at all the pretty colours!

Wellity, wellity, well! Look who’s back! Didja miss me? Waddya mean, “No!”. Well, never I have been so insulted in my life!…………………………Except that one time when I was at the International Insult Tournament in the beautiful village of Twatt, Shetland Islands; where I was called a “dobba”, a “mongoloid shoe-fucker” and a “rectum-faced-bucket-of-sex-sauce”. And that was just in the car park!

Anyhoo, another international sporting tournament is underway and I’m shoe-horning my (lack of) sporting knowledge and metal musical discoveries together for yet another highly unpopular edition of ‘Sporting Tournament of Metal’!  So come one, come all for a tournament where ethnic unpleasantness, religious bigotry, terrorism and all round, outright thuggery and hatred will appear at stadiums all over La Belle France and the cafes and bars of the nearby towns. Oh, and some football may be on offer too.

Euro 2016 explained in one handy David Squires cartoon!




With a name like Mourning Dawn, you’d expect the band to play some kind of depressive, doom metal, throw in some black metal riffs and howls and you’d be correct. Hefty riffs and great guitar solos and meaty songs keep the listener enthralled. Add the despairing, howling vocals of Laurent, and Mourning Dawn have the depth and range to become a pretty big thing.




Void Forger are a Romanian trio who play a mixture of crust, sludge and death metal. Murky production values, great riffs and some pretty good songs to boot. A grimy, sludgy way to start the day.




Opening game of the tournament and I really can’t see past the French winning this. Expectations will be high and they’ll probably scrape by with a single goal, but it’ll be good enough for all three points and will leave the French favourites to win their group. Second place will be fought out between Romania and Switzerland leaving Albania the wooden spoonists of Group A. (watch as this prediction will blow up in my face!)

Musically, both bands are good however Mourning Dawn tickles my depressive fancy more than Void Forger. Allez Les Bleus!

see more brilliant David Squires cartoons at: http://www.theguardian.com/profile/david-squires


Happy Thanksgiving! (Cliched Blog Post Title #30926511)

Well, it’s a happy thanksgiving to my legions of fans out there (Mr and Mrs. Fred and Matilda Legions of Ambleside) and what a thanksgiving this is going to be. Now that I’ve been laid off from work I’ve got much too much time on my hands, but unlike pomp-rockers Styx I won’t waste it writing crappy songs; instead I’ll use it to write crappy blog posts instead. Now I’m not going to promise a blog post a day, that would be cruel and unusual punishment but I will attempt to put my jumbled, garbled thoughts down onto a screen. *looks at all the unfinished blog posts in his collection and walks away whistling nonchalantly*  

So the past week or so, thanks to my lack of job, I’ve just been wandering about kicking rocks and such and was amazed to discover that rocks didn’t like to be kicked but they did like to have their pictures taken and have a good old natter as well.


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This is Gerald. He’s a happy, little soul with a kind word for everyone. You can see him round town smiling, giving friends and strangers a cheery wave and a happy “Hello!” to any and all passers-by. Gerald is one of the good guys in life that will make you smile and will make you feel good about yourself. Next time you see him ask him about his thimble collection; it’s a good three or four hours well spent in convivial company.


just look at his little face!

just look at his little face!

Next up is Rhett and he’s a handsome bugger to go with such a handsome name.  The reason why he has that enigmatic smile is that he is the real reason why Carly Simon wrote ‘You’re So Vain’. The way Rhett tells it, Carly was backpacking round the country and stopped off one night in a local tavern where she caught the gaze of a shy, but handsome young stone. Their eyes locked and, to spare Rhett’s blushes and those of my more sensitive readers out there, magic happened and the next morning Carly was inspired to wrote a heartfelt, passionate and quite obscene song about that night. However, once passions had cooled and the cold light of the afternoon had cleared young Carly’s mind, she realised that she would have to change the lyrics as she wasn’t 100% sure her record label would allow such words as ‘clitoris’, ‘labia’  ‘penetration’ and ‘thrusting rock-cock’ to be in one of her songs; although on a side-note, nobody batted an eyelid when Whitesnake used those words in there 1978 hit “I’ve Got A Cock (Bigger Than A Cadillac)”.  So, despite all the rumours of who the song was really about (Mick Jagger, Warren Beatty, Harvey Korman) no-one really knew it was about a young, handsome stone with an enigmatic smile.

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This is Terry and he’s a bigoted old git! He’s prejudiced against gravel (“liberal know-it-alls”), pebbles (“work-shy scroungers”), rubble (“bloody foreigners!”), cobblestones (“unnatural perverts!”), boulders (they smell!”) and shale (“they’re not even real stones!”). So if you see Terry around town, avoid him like you avoid chuggers.


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Finally we come to Melvin. Melvin’s is a sad story: a stone who remembers the time when he was worshiped and loved by his people; when people left food and libations for him; when the virgins of the village danced naked around him in the moonlight in the hopes of finding a suitor; how young couples would make love beneath his shadow in the hopes of their newly-made baby would receive Melvin’s blessing; how, on sacred occasions, all the men and the women of the village would partake in coupling ceremonies to help keep the village safe and strong. Melvin was happy and content with his life until one day strangers from another land came by and removed Melvin from his sacred place and brought him back to their land; a land where no naked, nubile virgins cavorted and frolicked in front of him; where no shy, young couples would make love in his shadows and where he his magic powers and gifts could not be bestowed on anyone anymore. It is said that when the moon is waxing gibbous and the night air is still you can hear a strange, plaintive cry across the fields of: “You fucking bastards! I’ll kill the fucking lot of you! You utter, utter arseholes! Where’s the naked women, you fuckers!” That will be Melvin.



Navel Gazing In Art

As requested by 50% of my audience (1 out of 2 is 50%!) and being (almost) a man of the people (I love mankind…..it’s the people I can’t stand!) I proudly present a few tips on how to collect and nurture your belly button fluff. You’re welcome.

First off you will need one of these:

Relax ladies, it’s not mine!

Yes, a belly button.

Now to you intelligent, erudite and quite handsome and sexy-looking readers of this blog (I’m such a silver-tongued devil, eh?), to you this would seem obvious. However the number of people I meet in my daily life that have no clue about Belly Button Fluff Collecting (BBFC) seem to think that any old orifice will suffice to collect fluff and are quite proud to to show me the contents like a proud parent shows off their offspring’s primitive cave paintings. Honestly, you’d expect there would be more brains and intelligence working in a Forbes 100 company but maybe all that inbreeding has infected their membranes and probably explains why the market and the economy is in the state it is what with Tarquin in accounts always shoving a finger into his orifices, pulling it out and asking “Is this any good?” I really do despair of that boy…………………….where was I? Oh yes………..STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY BOOZE!

So to recap so far: you will need a belly button, preferably hairy, like in the picture, as the hairy the belly button the more warm and inviting, safe and nurturing it will look for the stray and lonely fluff to gravitate towards.  You’ll also need one of these:

or one of these:

band names and colours optional.

and then just wear them and go about your daily business: chopping down trees, pressing wild flowers, going to the lavatory, skipping and jumping, you know, all those manly pursuits. Anyway after a few days (or hours depending on the heat outside and your propensity to sweat) you should be able to come close to something like this:

note: size and content may vary from town to town, state to state, country to country.

(One question I am asked is why, if I’m wearing mainly black or some other non-blue colour, does my BBF look blue? Well my friends, that is an easy riddle to solve; it is, what the French call, a trick of the light. Either that or we are all part Smurf.)

So to retrieve said fluff from said belly button, you should insert a digit into hole (sounds rude), wiggle it about a bit (ooo-er!) and then pull it out and proudly proclaim in a loud voice “I AM THE GOD OF BELLYBUTTON FLUFF! or whatever you feel comfortable with. (remember these are just guidelines).

As for the storage of your BBFC there are many trains of thought and mainly great philosophers throughout the centuries have discussed and argued about the storage and treatment of BBF. Some, like Schopenhauer and Wittgenstein, argue for storage jars, jam jars or any clear glass receptacle with a screw on lid. Whilst others, like Nietzsche and Jack Charlton prefer a box (shoebox or hatbox) to store their BBFC. As you can see, storage and care of the BBFC is a many varied and complex issue with no real right or wrong way. Perhaps it is said best by the German philosopher Martin Luther Blisset: “Every man must do two things alone; he must do his own believing and his own way of caring for his BBFC” Strong words indeed.

Personally, I like to collect my BBF and place it gently under the bed so I can enable the dust bunnies that live there to build their dwellings and their cities; to raise temples to pray to their dust bunny gods; to build statues to honour and remember their glorious dust bunny heroes of myth and legend and to have something to keep them warm during the long, cold winter months.

I hope this short tutorial has enlightened you, educated you and entertained you (just like a Bruce Willis movie) and you can look forward to many long and happy years collecting and cultivating bellybutton fluff. Goodnight.