Archive for Body

Ultra violence and chocolate eggs.

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 10, 2009 by Buck Frain


jesus_gets_hammered

Q: What’s this? 

A: A cunt of a way to spend the Easter long weekend!

 

Happy Easter, bitches! Eat chocolate, celebrate rabbits and the amount of fucking they do, buy lumber and nail someone nice to it! I appreciate a couple of days off work as much as the next bloke, but fuck me dead if I don’t wish there was something decent on TV.

Do Bunnings have an Easter sale? That’d be kinda funny.

Why haven’t dairies got involved with a series of commemorative Easter cheeses? Cheeses for Jesus! Sounds good to me, they’d go down a treat with all the cunting bread and red wine. Eat this cheese, for it is my cheese – OK, maybe not, but that whole speech was already pretty creepy stuff. The wine’s your blood, huh? How many of these have you had, J-bagger?

On that note why isn’t there an Exorcist-inspired ice block for Easter? Y’know, lemonade crucifix on a stick with a rasberry jelly Jesus. It’d be fucking great! Try new Lick Me Jesus! Fuck yeah, the kids would love it! 

Ah, shit! It’s only Good Friday, I’m already bored as a twat and there’s still three days to go. Fuck this shit, I’m going down the pub to get wankered!

 

On Being A Stinky F*#ker!

Posted in Crap Jobs with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 5, 2008 by Buck Frain

 

I was on the 86 tram today, heading up Smith Street in Collingwood, when a guy got on. He was an unkempt, very Smith-St-looking guy with a big backpack and hair matted into one big dread. Yeah, dead giveaway – one matted dread, not even cool, cared-for dreads plural, but one manky slept-on nest – the mark of a lazy fucker with no sense of self or personal hygiene. I wouldn’t care,  I do hold a certain affection for the squalid sleaziness of Smith St and its population…except that he stank, I mean really stank. He got on the tram and and instantly a wall of  foetid, unwashed rankness seared my eyes and stuck its fingers down my gag reflex. I dry-retched and I could see that everyone around me also appeared to be suffering.

For fuck’s sake, why would you want to be a stinky fucker? Why, out of all the possible choices you could make in life, would you choose not washing yourself? Fuckin’ WHY??? And don’t even try to tell me it’s because he’s poor because I’ll shit in a postpack and mail it to you! I know poverty, I’ve been poor and I’ve travelled to countries where they have real poverty, people still manage to wash themselves. People living on less than a dollar a day still manage to regularly wash their clothes and their bodies and behave like people, so this cunt’s stench is nothing to do with poverty, this was a mother-fucking lifestyle choice! 

Again I will ask: WHY? What does the smelly person get out of being smelly? There must be some upside other than saving water and preserving the world’s soap reserves. What the feculent-rotting-carcass is wrong with bathing?  I mean, when I was 7 I didn’t like having showers but that was more due to their disruption of the day’s activities and their being the precursor to bed-time rather than from a desire to be a stinking shit-merchant. So what is it? Could it be a strategy of dealing with fellatiophobia (the fear of being sucked off)? If so, it’d probably work – 99%* of respondents interviewed said they’d be much less likely to go down on a guy with a cheesy cock. 

I’m all for diversity, I genuinely am. I love that I live in a pluralistic society where people can live more or less however they choose. I don’t look down upon those people who prefer not to conform to sterile consumerist norms. No, I celebrate the individual’s right to choose their own path even when their choices are very different to my own. But there are limits to my tolerance. If you want to smell like spew-flavoured armpits, vintage dick-cheese and a busted arse, go for your life, BUT FUCKING WALK THERE!!! Don’t get on a public tram and make paying customers dry-retch because of your disgusting stink-fetish. I don’t care what reason you’ve got, there’s no fucking justification for it, DON’T BE A STINKY FUCKER NEAR PEOPLE!!! GO STINK IN A FUCKING CAVE, YOU MISERABLE SHIT-SACK!!! It happens all the time, stinky bastards are everywhere, some of them even manage to make an occupation out of it: 

Aaw, maaate, could you spare $2, I’ve gotta…

No, I don’t! Not for you, you fuckin’ stinking shitbag! You’re a smelly mother-fucker and I wish you’d fucking die!!! Fuck off!!! 

Don’t even get me started on beggars. In developing countries, fine – all respect and compassion. In Australia – go fuck yourself! Take your mobile phone and call someone who cares, you junkie cunt! 

I know that sometimes everyone gets a bit sweaty – that’s fine, but fuck it, here’s some guidelines:

  • WASH!!!
  • Yourself and your clothes.
  • With soap.
  • Regularly!
  • DON’T recycle your underwear, you cheesy shit-fuck!
  • If you’re a naturally smelly person, carry deodorant.
  • If you’re going near people, FUCKING USE IT!!! 

I swear my patience with willfully these stinky fuckers is wearing painfully thin. Any decent citizen should be legally permitted to remove a smelly person from public transport, shops, anywhere they become a malignant nuisance, and set them on fire. People complain about passive smoking but inhaling the acrid vapours of decaying flesh and stale body waste is hideous, it’s a fuckin’ crime against humanity. If you want to stink like garbage you should be incinerated like garbage! GET FUCKED!!! If you see a guy with a jerry can on trains and trams around Melbourne, that’ll be me and you better hope you don’t fucking stink!

 

                

*Source: Buck Frain’s Attitudes To Genital Cheese Survey 2008. The other 1% threw up and/or declined to give an intelligible answer.

 

Winning The War On Bones.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 28, 2008 by Buck Frain

We win! Australia, the little battler, has won – against insurmountable odds we fought hard to be leading the world in obesity! Yeah, We’re the fattest cunts in the world! Fuck you, USA, you can eat our convict shit, we’re fatter than you bastards! 26% of all Aussies are obese, that’s four million of us – a 33% rise in obesity in the last nine years. Fat Aussies have been gorging their pie-holes for the last nine years to top the USA’s puny 25% obesity rate. Yeah, they’ve got more fatties in total, but per capita we have the most cottage-cheese-arsed, cankled, wheezing behemoths of any nation on the planet! 

 

Doesn’t anybody find any of this remotely offensive? I don’t mean my ruthless attack on the fatties, I mean isn’t anyone offended by the rampant epidemic of bloatedness? We see it everywhere. My two bosses, The Wobblers, are both horrendously obese shit-sacks. Many of the people in the building I work in have Office Body*, you only have to walk down the street to realise that most people are packing some weight, thin people are a serious minority. 

 

But we’re all polite about it – everyone knows the pain of the fatty, Oprah’s made us oh-so aware of the torture it is to be fat. No one wants to point out to their friends or co-workers Hey, you’re becoming a bit of a chunk, should you be eating that? Woe betide the heathen who dared say such a hurtful thing. You insensitive bastard, it’s genetic, his whole family is like that. Um…but he’s eaten two pizzas today…are you sure that’s genetic? 

 

You see, I think that’s part of the problem – it’s politically correct to tell people they’re drinking too much, or that they should quit smoking, but we’re in denial about obesity. You mustn’t tell the fatty they’re fat, they might feel bad about themselves and eat more! Yeah, I know, the fuckin’ fat cunt might eat YOU, you’re just scared! For fuck’s sake, tell her from a distance, the fat fuck won’t be able to chase you for long. 

 

Now before all you fatties out there start sending me death threats, I’d like to point out I’m not advocating everyone need have chiseled abs and cheekbones or plastic surgery themselves to look like Paris Hilton, that’s just another disgusting sickness. What I’m saying is: take physical responsibility for yourself. Be a bit healthy.

  

No-one wants to walk down a street and see a piss-pants drunk sitting there boozing himself into oblivion, nor do you want to see junkies shooting up nor sex addicts jerking themselves off in public. Why not? Because it’s offensive. Obese people are killing themselves with food. I find it offensive to see some filthy, fat pig scoffing into a Big Mac. Most people will walk past keeping their revulsion private but everyone finds it unsettling, even if only on a well-trained, unconscious level. It turns my stomach and I can’t understand why it is no longer acceptable to acknowledge that offensiveness. Even the most compassionate soul has to concede that, on a purely pragmatic level, it’s a massive a waste of resources. On a planet with billions of people barely surviving, these fat turds eat enough each day for a whole family, and in a few years time they’re going to be a massive financial burden on an already strained health system. We all will be paying through the nose to save these fatties from themselves. Maybe they need a dose of reality rather than that second Double Quarter Pounder! YOU’RE FUCKIN’ FAT, FATTY!!! FATTY FAT FAT FAT!!! HAVEN’T YOU HAD ENOUGH FOOD, YOU STINKING FAT CUNT??? What? Chase me, fuckface!   

 

 

*Office Body – a phenomenon where, due to a lack of physical activity, chronic over-eating and a diet of shit, a person becomes overweight or obese and most of their muscles wither away except for a few fingers on the hand that operates their computer mouse. See also Internet Body, Playstation Body or Lazy Fat Cunt.