Archive for Disease

Declaring War On Arse Terrorism

Posted in Random Shit That Gives Me The Cunt with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 31, 2010 by Buck Frain

Pants. They’re great. One leg in each side, pull up, fasten – BOOM – you’re clothed. Girls, you may require something more. But seriously, they are a pretty simple thing, right? I love pants. They cover and protect while allowing freedom of movement, and the many different varieties of colour, fabric, style and design provide something for every taste and occasion. So, how the fuck does it come to pass that not being able to wear them properly should become cool? Why is every gormless nob-end, usually with haircut requiring 3 hours work per day just to keep it looking like a spontaneously gang-raped dog carcass, wearing their pants below their arse cheeks now? WHAT THE FUCK DID I MISS HERE??? When I gave a shit about cool, it had some sort of meaning to it. I didn’t necessarily buy into it but at least I could understand. Not being able to put on a pair of pants is just stupid. It just makes you look like a complete fucktard. I mean, you’re not more attractive with 4 inches of your manky underpants on show to the world.


Aside from the aesthetic repugnance of this devolution of human achievement, wearing pants like this doesn’t make life easier. Movement is restricted and one has to widen one’s stance to the ridiculous in order to keep the pants on, thus undermining one of the many great features of pants, i.e. they automatically stay on until you want to take them off. These cunts walk like they’ve just shat themselves and if they ever had cause to run they’d lose the pants in a second and either have to run holding them up (impractical at best in case you’ve never had to run) or fall face first into the ground. IT’S FUCKING STUPID!!!

I’ve looked into the phenomenon and apparently it all started in the US where African American kids decided they’d get way more respect if they dressed like they were in prison. In prison you’re not allowed to have a belt because you might hang yourself with it or maybe even use it to hurt someone else so it follows that prisoners’ pants don’t fit so well. OK, so I understand the origin. I even get that stupid kids think it’s cool to emulate criminals, however, at least some of the African American kids have the good grace to cover their ill-fitting pants with long t-shirts that cover their arses…and can also, incidentally, be conveniently used to conceal weapons. Sadly, dumbfuck Aussie white kids have once again completely missed any point that might have been there. They twat around in designer clothes their Liberal-voting mum paid for, they never carry guns and they wear short shirts to advertise the fact that their only statement to the world is fail pants. It’s completely fucked. And then to add insult to injury they add a belt to the ensemble. A CUNTING BELT!!! For fuck’s sake, the only purposes belts serve are to keep your pants above your hips or  to put holsters, handcuffs or superhero shit on, which will pull your pants down if you don’t have them on properly.

Having pants that don’t fit says:

  • a) I’m poor
  • b) I’m just out of jail where I did hard time as a large man’s wife and/or
  • c) I’m armed, fuck you!

Having pants that look like they should fit, are assisted by a belt but still sit below your arse cheeks says:

  • a) I’m intellectually disabled and my carer didn’t help me after I went to the toilet
  • b) I’m a mindless follower of a consumer culture I don’t understand and/or
  • c) I’m so unredeemably shit as a person that I like deliberately getting simple things wrong to complicate my pointless existence, you should grab me by my stupid hair and fling me down the nearest flight of stairs or into the path of the nearest oncoming train!

Why does it offend me? What? You mean apart from it being both ugly and stupid? You mean you need more? Well here it is: these miscreants sit on public transport and everywhere else in their underpants. That’s right. Stinky undies right on a seat that I have to share. The pants are so low they don’t get sat on! What, your designer jeans cost so much you don’t want to wear them out by sitting on them?  GET FUCKED!!! Put some cunting clothes on. Do you think you’re so beautiful that strangers want to see your arse or maybe even share its contents? YOUR MUM WAS BEING NICE!!! You’re not cool, you’re not hot, you’re a useless, ugly cunt! For shit’s sake, cover your stinking arse! Your pants are supposed to go there. They’re not just for you, they’re a barrier for everyone else against your e-coli and convict jizz. If you’re not wearing them over your arse there’s no point wearing them at all. It’s what they’re there for – THEY’RE MADE TO COVER YOUR ARSE!!!

Stupid sagging pants fuckhead.

In the end this amounts to nothing less than Arse Terrorism. I believe it’s a campaign of terror by fetishists who like to put their dirty arses on other people’s things and I cannot tolerate it any longer. I urge everyone to take action against these purveyors of ugliness, stupidity and disease. Whenever and wherever you see them with their stupid arses, or strangely often lack-of-arse, hanging out over pants that have been forgotten at half-mast, I urge you all: kick them! Punch them! Throw the remains of your coffee on them! Push them into traffic! Set them on fucking fire!

The only way these arse terrorists will learn to wear pants properly is if it becomes vital for their survival. We have to draw a line, and let’s face it, people with their pants half down can’t fucking chase you so fuck ’em, you get a free shot!

Avian Swine Flu Pandemic Berserker.

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 20, 2009 by Buck Frain

SWINE_FLU_WARNING

Swine flu! Fucking swine flu! We’re all going to die! Fuck, let’s all run around like stupid ill-informed fucktards until we drop dead from exhaustion or get murdered by someone sick to their back teeth with our mindless hysteria!

It seems the whole cunting world has lost its shit over the latest style of cold. Last year it was bird flu. Everyone was pissing themselves that bird flu was going to destroy the world. What happened? Fuck all. This year it’s swine flu. At my workplace we all got a patronising fucking email from HR last week telling us all to be vigilant about hygiene in view of the threat of the swine flu pandemic, to use tissues when touching door knobs and never to put our hands near our faces because that’s how germs are spread. Then today I come to work to discover that anti-bacterial handwash dispensers have been installed all over the fucking place. Yes, I’m fucking serious! For cunt’s shitting sake! There’s only been one reported case of swine flu in the whole of Australia and even worldwide the disease, generally speaking, just makes people a bit sick. Naturally the media are going to beat it up into the biggest thing in since sliced bread but anyone with half a brain knows it’s all a pile of horseshit. Add to that, that swine flu is a virus not bacterial so the logic behind installing anti-bacterial goo dispensers becomes even more obscure. 

The people in this building are fucking idiots. Panic over a disease that one person in Australia might have, wash your hands ‘til the skin drops off…but then stuff your obese pie hole with Krispy Kreme and McDonald’s – but it gives me comfort – Fuck yeah, fear the swine flu! Fuck knows, heart disease never killed anyone did it ya fat cunts? You’re gonna die of pig’s arse not pig’s fucking flu. I fucking well despair at the lack of perspective, the blind fear and the wanton stupidity. 

The human race is a blight on the face of the Earth. I watched that tossy remake of The Day The Earth Stood Still last night and I have to side with Klaatu on this…well…before his superior intelligence gave way to emasculated sentimental fuckheadedness and he left the whole planet to be destroyed by people because we’re vulnerable and occasionally nice to each other. What the shit??? 

Fuck everybody, I say! Bring on the swine flu pandemic. May it mutate with avian flu and create a berserker-super-virus that dessimates the human population and leaves us cowed and beaten, fighting for survival against mutant flying pigs. I’d be prepared to die for the cause just so long as a good 5 billion or so useless cretins bite the dust with me. The planet is grotesquely over-populated and the human race is too selfish, infantile and stupid to ever make the necessary decisions to save it. We need an apocalyptic catastrophe to make what remains of humanity consider changing the way they do things. Nothing short of near-annihilation will get the message through, we’re just not smart enough for subtle hints. Stupid fucking monkeys! Survival of the fattest is not sustainable, it never fucking was. Bring on epic Darwinian cruelty! The dinosaurs had their time and we’ve had ours. Hell, if any of us survive we can use the dead as fertilizer and replant the bloody planet! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHH!!!

Germophobia, stupidity and poo particles.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 19, 2008 by Buck Frain

Germophobia is stupid, like most phobias I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of hygiene but, fucking hell people, get it in perspective! The world is a dirty place and you yourself, no matter how much you scrub, are dirty. Yes, you, you dirty bastard! You are fucking filthy! Even when you’re clean you’re covered and filled with all manner of bacteria and microbes. So beyond basic cleanliness you might as well just get over it.

 

I had to have a quick slash in a public toilet today and whilst washing my hands I noticed a guy by the door who was pretending to talk on his mobile phone. Actually faking a conversation and occasionally sneaking furtive looks back at me. Weird. Was he there for a sly bummy?  I wasn’t about to ask, I dried my hands and left. He followed me through the door, I mean immediately behind me. I realised the sad fucker just didn’t want to touch the door handle. What a complete ballbag! How long had he been waiting there? Waiting at the door pretending to talk to his fake friends desperately hoping someone would let him out of the toilet.

 

Get a fucking grip! The same germophobic ballbag would touch door handles everywhere else in his life. Door handles, ATMs, shop counters and money that would doubtlessly have been touched by someone who doesn’t wash their hands. Someone with poo on their hands – maybe not big chunks but poo particles, at least. The harsh reality is that there are poo particles everywhere. Everytime someone farts and you smell it  – poo particles – in your lungs! That’s right someone else’s poo in your lungs. Deal with it! Plenty of people don’t wash their hands after going to the loo, fuckin’ bio-terrorists!, whether for a piss, a shit or even a crafty phone-wank. So it may be piss, blood or jizz particles, whatever it’s got germs in it. Everything does, everything you touch, everything you eat, it all has poo in it. Oh for God’s sake, STOP SCREAMING!!! What are you gonna do? Spend your life wrapped in cling film?

 

Before you go completely berko and start spraying everything in sight with anti-bacterial bullshit spray like those maniacs on the ads, here’s another thought: The sprays only kill 99.9% of germs. I’m going to assume most of you have heard of Darwin and his theory of evolution, survival of the fittest and all that. If you kill 99.9% of the germs regularly, what you’re left with is 0.1% of the germs. What do they do? The don’t just hang out in a little corner minding their own business, they breed. Like bastards! They breed and evolve and get nastier because they can’t be killed by your stupid spray. Don’t believe me? Go to hospital, they’ve got the deadliest bugs ever discovered in your local hospital, that’s why the doctors want you to leave. No, it’s not just to free up beds because the health system’s completely fucked, it’s because the longer you’re there, the more chance there is you’ll catch some really bad shit and die.

 

Remember you have an immune system. Its job is to react against threats to your body by surrounding and destroying them. If you insist on circumventing your own immune system like a namby, germophobic nob-end, it won’t work properly when you need it to. So in conclusion, if you want to stay healthy, wash your hands, keep yourself clean but don’t be afraid to eat a bit of poo every now and then, and for fuck’s sake, don’t fake-talk on your mobile in public toilets waiting for some other fucker to open the door for you ‘cause if I see you I’ll fucking sneeze on you – just to make you lose your mind!

 

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The Dehumanising Onset Of Sickness.

Posted in Things Rank And Gross In Nature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 14, 2008 by Buck Frain

Ah, I’m getting sick. It’s absolutely fucked. I could feel the lump starting at the back of my throat and putting just the slightest pressure on my right ear-drum this morning. There was just a hint of a sniffle and I just knew that tomorrow I’ll wake up as sick as a bitch, sore throat, snot factory, hot dry eyes and in a cunt of a mood!

 

I don’t suppose I should be surprised, call centres are breeding grounds for disease. The whole place is a fucking bio-hazard and should be bombed to shit. Sniffling, sneezing, coughing mouth-breathers everywhere. Fuck! I’m an obsessive fucking cleanliness freak at work. We have these alcohol wipes for the headsets, I use about five or six at the beginning of every shift. I sterilize the headset, keyboard, mouse, monitor, desk, everything. Who the fuck knows who was here last? And, fuck, let me tell you there are people who work here who you don’t want to share anything with. I don’t even trust the cups in the kitchen at work. Even if they look clean I hold them under the boiling water tap before using them.

 

But despite my best efforts, flu shots included, I’ve caught something. I fucking felt it all day, it’s like a cloud of retardedness has descended on me. Everything is just a little out of phase, I’m just half a step off normal. I rammed my shin into the corner of the bed while I was getting ready for work this morning. I swore like a bastard. Fuck, it hurt. I poured boiling water on my hand at work while sterilising my cup. It fucking hurt too but wasn’t bad, I put it straight under cold water, it probably won’t even blister. Still, I felt like a tool and it was another sign that something was wrong.

 

I finally decided to go home after I sneezed and everything turned green. Not only did I nearly deafen the guy I was on the phone to, I had viscous green mucous all down my face and in my hand. It was fucking revolting. I excused myself from the call and reached my free hand into a pocket searching for tissue…to no avail, there were none to be found. I started to get up and realised that my headset mic was entirely hidden within an enormous gob of phlegm connected by a green umbilicus to my top lip. The nice goth girl sitting next to me actually dry retched.  I am hideous. I went to the loo, with my headset, cleaned up and left for the day. Ah, kill me!

Winter – A Time To Share Sickness.

Posted in Random Shit That Gives Me The Cunt with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 3, 2008 by Buck Frain

So this is winter. Winter started two days ago and already it feels like there has never been anything else. Miserable bastard cold that soaks into your bones but that you feel guilty whinging about unless you’ve never been to a country where they have a real winter. Melbourne winter sucks, but if you were English and looked at the technical specifications you’d think of it as a rather mild summer. Of course, if you were Canadian you’d just laugh in my face or beat me with an ice hockey stick for even suggesting that we have a winter.

Aside from the bed-inertia that comes over me in winter, I don’t mind it. Except for sickness. Naturally, I don’t like getting sick myself, but other people’s sickness is what is truly detestable, and the beginning of the season it seems everyone gets something. Public transport becomes a disease swap-meet – sniffles, sneezes and coughs all on offer, the freshest and latest bacterial and viral concoctions, some oldies and some newies so resistant to modern treatments you’ll get comments back from the pathology lab doing your blood tests, or maybe even a personal letter from Kofi Annan suggesting you let weapons inspectors into your lungs.

Seriously, what the biologically-terrorising fuck is wrong with people? On the train this morning most of the diseased commuters were politely mopping their sniffles with tissues or covering their mouths to cough, except the middle-aged gentleman opposite me. Sitting there reading a book, not attempting to cover the occasional coughs that burst from him. The first cough surprised me and I realised I was in some danger of infection, but it was just one cough and, hell, maybe it crept up on him, maybe he was just too embarrassed to apologise for it. No. A few minutes later a little double cough, again no reaction. The fucker was doing it deliberately. He just didn’t give a fuck about anyone else. He could turn the pages of his book OK, so his fucking arms worked fine, maybe he was just so pissed of about being ill that he thought he’d take it out on the rest of the train. Maybe his head was so far up his own arse that the idea of other people hadn’t occurred to him at all. It was at this point I realised my circulation was fine, all of a sudden I was warm, even starting to sweat a little.

The third cough came. Again, this selfish fucker did nothing to cover his filthy diseased mouth. Excuse me, I said, would you cover your mouth when you cough please? He stared blankly at me. Did he not understand? You were coughing. Could you cover your mouth when you cough?, I restated. I was pretty happy with my composure, I was Mr Calmly-Assertive and I felt the few commuters aware of our interaction were probably understanding where I was coming from. Still, he met me with a blank stare and then went back to reading.

OK, don’t lose your mind. Maybe he’s got the message. Maybe he feels humiliated to be coached on cold etiquette on public transport and at his age. Let it go.

Again! He fucking coughed again! Didn’t cover it – cunt! HEY!!!, Now I had his attention, and pretty much everyone in the carriage had turned to see what was going on, but there was no way of bringing my tone down to a more intimate level. If you’ve got to cough, cover your fuckin’ mouth! Do you understand me? I’ve asked you nicely, now stop coughing in my fucking face. He was just staring at me. He went to return to his book again. HEY! I’m fucking talking to you! You’re sick. I don’t want your cold, so cover your mouth. Do you fucking understand? DON’T COUGH IN MY FACE! He was well aware that he was in trouble, he knew the game was up, but a nervous cough escaped him and he didn’t raise a hand. That was when I lost my mind. I leapt forward and placing one hand behind him onto the back of his head, I clamped my other hand over his mouth and screamed into his eyes: COVER YOUR FUCKING MOUTH, YOU DISEASED CUNT! PEOPLE HAVE TO LIVE AND WORK, THEY DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING SICKNESS. COVER YOUR SHITTY MOUTH WHEN YOU COUGH OR STAY THE FUCK HOME! I SEE YOU NOT COVER YOUR MOUTH AGAIN, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!

I had been shaking his head on every syllable. In his eyes was sheer mortal terror. I let him go. Everyone was looking at the madman. That was me. Ooh. I had just threatened a man’s life. On a packed train. Step away from the scared man. Nothing to see here. The train pulled into a station, not mine, I got off anyway. I waited for the next train.

I feel extremely stupid and ashamed, and I’m jumping at every little sound because I’m expecting it to be the police come to cart me away. I’m not a violent person, I’m not a crazed, militant, vigilante type, and I didn’t hurt the man. Despite what you may think from what you read here, I don’t put my hands on people, I’m all talk. I just hate bad manners and I really hope if I ever see the coughing man again that he just doesn’t cough in my face. I don’t think I’d go well in prison.

Having A Big Shit In The Nest

Posted in Tales From Hell with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 17, 2008 by Buck Frain

Seeing as I’ve begun to bite the hand that feeds me, I might as well do the job properly and gnaw the fucker right off.

I work for Corgan Research, one of the country’s oldest MR firms. It sucks and is run by a complete maniac called Barry Corgan – big C, little organ, or so we suspect. Barry inherited the company from the founder, his father, so he’s always been rich and has never had to relate to people. He dresses like Gregory Peck in The Boys From Brazil, only shorter and without the moustache or charisma and a Barry’s a bit more of a nazi. The only way he ever communicates with anyone is by shouting at them. Thank fuck he hardly ever condescends to visit us. The odd occasions he does is usually to gloat about his empire to boozed up potential clients.


As head of the company he has established a culture of fear, pettiness and disaffected slovenliness. Thanks to a careful maneuvering around, or in some cases a complete flouting of, industrial relations and tax laws everyone in the entire building is paid well below any industry minimums. This results in everyone only doing the bare minimum they can get away with without getting fired and ripping the system for anything they can whenever opportunity arises. Barry treats every employee as if they are a thief and this sort of punitive management style filters down through the whole organisation. He routinely fires people on the spot so everyone fears and despises him, hates their job, and is suspicious of their co-workers. Interviewers are the lowest of the low, everyone has more power than us and despite the fact that none of them would have jobs if we weren’t here, I understand that most consider us some sort of subhuman troglodytes. Unfortunately, they’re occasionally correct. It’s a truly demoralising work environment.

The two main surveys we do are one for a big tobacco company on smoking habits. Our conspiracy theory has me certain the information they get from this is filed away for future legal cases to prove the vast majority of smokers smoke more than one brand of cigarettes so, when you try to sue them because of your lungs are rotting and your cock’s fallen off, they can say How do you know it was OUR cigarettes that caused your cancer? Pretty evil, huh? 

The other is for The Cuntingwealthy Bank, interviewing their customers about their level of satisfaction with the service they receive. This is gold because we have to rewrite customers’ actual responses into less offensive, more company-positive messages that are then passed on to the branches to contribute to employee KPIs and are posted on the internal website so the shareholders can see what a great company they own. Also a wee bit evil, no? It goes against everything market research is supposed to represent. If there was ever integrity in the simple gathering of information to find truths it has been corrupted by Barry and his corporate shit-sucking mates. It makes me wonder why we bother calling people at all for this project – we could just make the shit up, that is what we’re doing most of the time anyway.

The problem at its root is that the business of market research is a fiction. Our company produces nothing. Numbers on a page that are the result of meticulously engineered questionnaires tailored to produce the exact outcomes desired by the client. The manner in which the work is carried out is completely irrelevant. You could pay people top dollar for the best work or, like Barry does, pay the bare minimum to keep yourself out of jail and say bollocks to quality. The end results are indistinguishable from one another, so unless you have any interest in people as anything other than earning potential, it makes sense to create a shithole like Corgan’s.

This does not, however, change the fact that Barry Corgan is an evil dog-felching bastard and his empire is thoroughly contemptible. I believe, if you employ people, you have a duty to provide them with an environment where, even if their job is meaningless, they feel as though they are respected, they’re paid properly and treated with basic human dignity. Barry Corgan is a rotten-to-the-core-son-of-a-whore and I would happily beat the fucker to a stinking bloody pulp and then do a shit in his hat. Fuck you Barry!!!

Pedestrian Catatonia – A Social Disease & Its Possible Cure Through Mindless Violence.

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , on April 2, 2008 by Buck Frain

One my least favourite things is mass stupidity. I can sometimes forgive individual stupidity but mass stupidity makes me want to buy automatic weapons. There are many manifestations of this phenomenon but the easiest place to find it is in any urban area in any developed western country.

Just go to the shops or into the city with a purpose. It doesn’t matter what purpose, it can be as simple as going to the bank or buying lunch. As long as you’re in a reasonably urban environment during a time when shops are open you will be hindered by them.

I’m sure they were the inspiration for Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead. They are the zombie-like shoppers who wander aimlessly, usually with eyes facing a direction other than the one they’re walking in. They lumber along in meandering patterns at a Thorazine pace blocking footpaths, walkways, escalators, doorways and stairwells EVERYWHERE! They move like swarm of locusts-with-most-of-the-limbs-pulled-off, completely without purpose, dazzled by bright sparkly signs and shiny things in shop windows, and with an unconscious malice that subverts and destroys purpose in others wherever it can. But worst of all, unlike real zombies, it’s completely illegal to blast the fuck out of them with shotguns or stove their heads in with any kind of bat. Big fucking pity that. I fucking hate them!

If you are reading this and realize that you go to the shops and vague out, if you find yourself at the bottom of an escalator (after blocking both sides of it with your fucktard friend, standing there like wankers because you’re either lazy cunts or you just think it’s a fucking fair-ground ride and so no-one behind can walk down past you) staring into space so the people getting off behind you have to squeeze past your immobilised arse, if you are deaf to the words excuse me then you could be one of them. If you are then I fucking hate you too, and I’ll tell ya now: Watch the fuck out! One day, and it may be soon, I might just punch you in the back of your fucking head!

Just the idea of it fills me with a feeling of euphoria. I would love nothing more than to really punch one of them in the back of their head, like really fucking hard and then when the glazed eyes turned slowly toward me to scream into the soulless void of a face: WAKE UP, YOU FUCK! Or better still, to dress up like James Caan out of Rollerball and just belt through their numbers pushing them out of my way, elbowing them in the backs of their stupid slow heads, kicking their legs out from under them and stomping the fuck out of their prostrate cadavers without breaking stride. Passers-by would turn to just see me disappearing through the crowd at a cracking pace, leaving a path of moaning, hobbled bodies in my wake.

Yeah, yeah, sociopath…anger management…tolerance, blah blah blah – it’s just a fantasy you fucking hippy, so shut your self-righteous yap and go buy a sense of humour and some soap. Cunt.

Pedestrian Catatonia might be a more PC term for this condition but whatever you call it, it’s a fucking menace. I’m not talking about just different people walking at different speeds, that’s just society, living with others and all that. I’m talking about the extreme-asleep-standing-up-no-fucking-spatial-awareness urban zombies. This is a real disease, and it’s a western disease. This level of collective vagueness doesn’t exist in less-developed nations, and I’m pretty sure there is one simple reason for it. In other countries people have things to do, they have purpose and they’re not over-burdened with wealth They don’t have any need of wandering around like lost children just waiting for some kind retailer to relieve them of their disposable income for something they don’t need so the sweet, honest high of retail therapy can block out the desperate meaninglessness of their existence for a time. I suppose I should feel pity for them. I should recognize that they’re just victims of globalization and capitalism-gone-mad just the same as the children who stitch the NIKE caps they wear.

NO! NO! FUCK NO! It’s no fucking use. They are a blight on humanity – they should all be euthanased and turned into fertilizer. 6 billion people on a planet ready to shit itself and some bleeding arsehole wants me to be nice to people who are so over-indulged and privileged that they forget how to be human and turn into…well, what? What would you call them?