Archive for Uselessness

Old People Are Rubbish.

Posted in Wankers In Denial with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 7, 2009 by Buck Frain

RENTON:   Right. So we all get old and then we can’t hack it any more. Is that it?

SICK BOY:   Yeah.

 

RENTON:   That’s your theory?

 

SICK BOY:   Yeah, beautifully fucking illustrated.

 

RENTON:   Give me the gun. 

 

Old people fuck me off, I’m not going to lie about it. They just give me the fucking shits. I mean, I completely understand that I’m headed that way, as we all are. I’ll get old, I’ll lose my shit and I’ll die. Inevitable…unless I get killed while I still have my faculties – which, considering how many people I seem to piss off, is a real possibility. I know there are a load of things that old people are great for – stealing prescription drugs from, telling really long, pointless anecdotes badly, smelling weird – but generally, old people are rubbish and nowhere is this more apparent than on the road.

 

Twice today I’ve nearly been killed by stupid old wankers in cars. The first was a senile old bint who was so shrunken she could barely see between the steering wheel and the dash. Long after the light had turned red and people filed onto the pedestrian crossing this daft old crone pilots her ancient Peugeot through the intersection. I was over half-way across the road so she’d had plenty of chance to work out the light was red. Two people ahead of me leapt forward to get out of the way, I had to jump back wards to avoid being hit. As I went back I slapped the roof of the car as it went past. Eventually she reacted, screeching to a halt, gazing around, wide-eyed, spasmodically gaping and pouting like a fish drowning in air and blinking furiously behind coke-bottle glasses.

 

THE LIGHT’S FUCKING RED!!!, I screamed.

 

She continued pathetically to fish-mouth at the world and blink, I made my way to the imagined safety of the footpath. The lights changed. She stayed there. The cars behind her started to blast horns at her to move her decrepit arse out of the shitting way. This spooked her even more and I was starting to wonder whether she was having some kind of stroke when finally synapses must have fired and with a cliché grind of gears, the old beast lumbered into motion and lurched unsteadily across the intersection before limping on up the road. God help the poor fuckers up there.

 stupid_old_driver

Deciding I needed to take a breather from the world I ordered a coffee at a nearby café and sat at one of their outdoor tables on the footpath where I could watch the world go by…or so I thought. A geriatric fuckstick in a late 70s BMW dropped in on me. Literally. He reverse parallel parked his way into my table. Slowly. Meticulously. He reversed until the back wheel of the BMW mounted the curb. Then he continued…into the steel barriers the café had erected next to their tables. Neither the sensation nor the noise of the collision registered. I stepped away from the table and yelled an indignant Hey! as he continued back pushing barrier into chair into table and scraping Jesus out of the side of what had looked to have been a pristine automotive specimen. Still no reaction from Jurassic Heidfeld. Satisfied, he applied the handbrake, turned the car off and got out. He wouldn’t have looked back except that I finally broke his fog with a hearty:

 

HEY! Nice parking, mate!

 

Whaaat?, He enquired.

 

I said NICE PARKING!!! What are you doing? You just parked in my fucking coffee!

 

Again just the vulnerable, vacant stare of second childishness.

 

Look! Look at this. You could have killed someone. Look! Are you blind? You’re on the footpath, you smashed into all this stuff! Didn’t you hear it???

 

Slowly he came around and saw the remains of a bent chair trapped between barrier and a now-mashed-but-sturdily-bolted-down table. He studied the side of his car and the damage. Eventually looking up he asked:

 

Are you alright?

 

Yes, I’m fine, but fuck dude, maybe you shouldn’t be driving! You could have killed someone.

 

Oh…(long pause while he gave the impression of considering all this new information)…sorry.

 

And that was it. He just shambled off across the street to do whatever crazy old man shit he had to do. I was amazed. WHAT THE SHIT??? The café manager came out, he was righteously fucked off at his bent table and chair arrangement. I explained what had happened, left my details with him if the police or insurance needed a statement and left him to it.

 

Why the backed-up-colostomy-bag don’t old people just admit it? I mean, they must fucking realise that their reflexes are shot to shit, that their peripheral vision is virtually non-existent and that their brains have scaled back all sensory input to a bare minimum despite the world carrying on just as it always has. Surely they must realise they’ve fucking lost it! I guess like the rest of the species they’re just in denial about their own shitness. I suppose it makes sense, why start facing up to it after the fun bits have gone and you’re back to shitting your pants, eating dog food and begging for attention.

 

The only responsible solution for society is that we take their fucking licences away so they can’t destroy the lives of people who still have something to live for. Fucking test their reflexes, test their vision and hearing. Every fucking year! and as soon as they start to lose their shit cut the shitting licence up. Fuck them. Let the old fuckers walk home, or catch the bus or buy a fucking zimmer frame. Anything so long as they’re not running over people who’ve still got some miles on the clock. SELFISH OLD SHIT-SACKS!!!

 

You think I’m being ageist? Fuck you! I’ll take the fucking test. I don’t fucking care. Make everyone take it. I’m happy for anyone who’s a useless fucktard to be taken off the road. I’m happy for us to start euthanasing the pathologically useless en masse. I mean, tolerance is great but I don’t want to get killed by it! FUCKIN’ WAKE UP, HUMANITY, IT’S NOT LIKE WE’RE SHORT OF PEOPLE ON THIS ROCK!!!

I’m Telex You, Gestetner Fax Outta Here!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 15, 2008 by Buck Frain

What the prolapsed rectum is with people who persist in using fax machines? I’m sorry but there’s no fucking excuse anymore. NO FUCKING EXCUSE!!! Get out of the cunting stone age, you great-grandmotherfuckers! 

 

I had mistakenly believed the enduring references to fax numbers on letterheads and business cards were just an indication of a laziness in updating stationery. If the last few days are anything to go by, however, I am wrong and there is army of tree-murdering recalcitrants out there desperately hanging on to their fax machines and forcing others to use them in the hope they’ll eventually acquire some kind of officeretro coolness. It’s pitifully fucked. 

 

I applied for two jobs recently where the recruitment monkeys asked if I could fax my resume in. Could I? I don’t know, could you go fuck yourself in the arse with a big rubber prick? To the first I replied: 

No, I’ll have to email you, I don’t have a fax machine. 

 

I was perplexed. People still use these things? WHY? Why would you use a fucking fax machine? They suck! How’s carrier pidgeon, will that do? I just don’t get it. The second time it happened I was got fucked off, however, I tried to remain cool and nonchalantly replied: 

No, I’ll have to e-mail you. My fax machine’s been less than reliable since I chopped into pieces with an axe. 

 

There was a stunned silence as the HR guy tried to process this information until, finally, he gave a weak: 

Ahm…I’m sorry? 

 

I don’t have a fax, dude, I’ve got a computer…and…I was messing with you. 

 

Nothing. Why is it that the people who work in human resources are the people with the least grip on humanity? Maybe it’s the same crushing irony of careers advisors – what a shit job, why would anyone listen to them ever? 

 

I applied for yet another job, a real job I had thought. I was reasonably interested in the business, the position looked promising…until I received a call from them requesting my fax number so they could send me some information to look over before the interview. 

How about I give you my email address? 

 

The vacant and, I assume, blonde entity on the other end of the phone gave a petulant sigh and tried to ply me for the path of least resistance:

Your fax number would be a lot quicker…for us, you know. 

 

I somehow doubt that – I don’t have a fax. Could you TELEX me?

 

Oh, I don’t know…I don’t think we have that…well, is there a fax at your post office? Or…well, I suppose I could send it by regular mail but there’s no guarantee you’d have much time with it before the interview… 

 

The job had lost all its lustre. It was dead to me now.

My Post Office? What the fuck? Are you calling me from the past? What the shat-in-fridge is wrong with you? E-mail, you stinking fucker! Have you not heard of it? It’s great: it doesn’t kill trees, it doesn’t degrade the quality of documents, it doesn’t cost you money and it has fuck all of a carbon footprint, BINT! You know what? Fuck you! FUCK YOU!!! Take the documents, the interview, the job and your whole company, fax it all to yourself, roll it up and shove it up your ARSE!!! I hate you! I fucking hate your short-sighted, environmentally cancerous, shit-sucking, lazy fuckedness! I hope to find you trapped under a vending machine early one Tuesday morning after a long weekend, a breath away from death so your last memory can be me hanging a big steaming shit into your gasping mouth!!!

 Hmm…that’d have to confuse the Jesus out of the forensic team, wouldn’t it? 

 

I digress. Unfortunately, none of that tirade actually came out of my mouth. I did manage to impart that if the facility of e-mail was too complicated for her company then I probably wasn’t too interested in working there, gave her my e-mail address and hung up. Yep, Won’t be hearing from those bastards. You wonder why I’m trapped in my dead-end limbo existence? Too bad. Fuck it!

 

Faxes have no place in our world except perhaps in a Museum For Boring Shit That Always Sucked. They’re a bad piece of equipment – they ruin everything, they jam like bastards, they use that stupid replica toilet paper and they have been thoroughly superceded in the most remote parts of the planet for well over a decade. Anyone who ever uses one now is obviously a complete CUNT and should be beaten to death with their stupid, cunty, shit-ridden fax machine for being an irredeemably FUCKED human being. GET FUCKED!!!