Archive for Violence

Fuck Christmas

Posted in Rage Against The Machine with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 19, 2014 by Buck Frain

lp

Christmas 2014 is shaping up to be the most miserable in living memory for Australia. An increasing number of Australians are taking to the streets in T-shirts declaring that they will not be celebrating Christmas at all this year as they’re saving all their party stuff until Prime Minister Tony Abbott dies.

Hatred for the PM has reached fever pitch in many parts of the country, and without a productive outlet for the rage, people are increasingly turning on the institution of Christmas as a focus for their anger. Frank Jelbart, 87, of Coonamble NSW said: “What kind of country are they running here anyway, where a fine young lad like Philip Hughes is struck down playing cricket for God’s sake and a snake like Abbott destroys the country and walks around breathing the air that mates of mine died for. Christmas be fucked this year, I’m just going to take out the 12 gauge and shoot holes in some road signs.”

Vicky Pettigrew, 44, of Happy Valley SA said: “Tony Abbott has ruined Christmas in our house this year. We get a tree each year but neither my husband, Darren, or I can even look at a Christmas tree now without imagining it on fire and stabbed right down that creepy lizard[Abbott]’s Jap-eye.” Mrs. Pettigrew, well-intentioned but a bit of a casual racist, told how the family had tried to persevere with the Christmas spirit until the couple’s thirteen year old son had replaced the traditional fairy atop the tree with a paper cut-out of the Prime Minister. “I think Ethan he thought it was funny or something but when Darren saw it he went berserk. He just dragged the whole tree out into the yard, decorations and all, doused it with two-stroke fuel and set it ablaze. He said no-one in our house would be having any fun until he [Abbott] dies.”

Similar scenes are playing out all over the country. In Mulgrave Vic, Trevor Farnsworth, 53, said the only thing he would be doing this Christmas was taking a hammer and knocking the handles off all of his 82 sporting trophies attained over 35 years of competing in a range of sports. “It’s been my life”, he wept, “but now they all just remind me of that dirty, big-eared cunt. Why can’t someone just fuckin’ kill him?”

You would be mistaken to think that the discontent stops at our sovereign borders though, interviewed at his well-hidden North Pole factory this week, the usually-jolly Santa Claus let fly about the Australian PM when asked about the down-turn in festive participation this season. “Tony Abbott is cancer in Speedos, he can get fucked! I’m not even going to Australia this year. I’m sorry kids but you can just fuck right off as long as that prick’s breathing. I’m serious! Cunt [Abbott] wants to pretend global warming doesn’t exist? I live in the fucking North Pole, bitches! Do you know how much I’ve had to spend on foundation re-flotation and sea-floor mooring just so the factory doesn’t sink into the fucking Arctic Ocean? It’s like Venice-On-Ice up here – it’s fucking bullshit – and that filthy weasel shit-fuck [Abbott] spends most of his time gobbing off Big Mining like coal’s a good fucking idea. No surprise that Tony Abbott’s death is Australia’s second most wished-for Christmas item this year, but I’ll tell you now: if you want him dead you’re going to have to do it your lazy fucking selves. I wouldn’t let Rudolph piss on that beef-jerky-looking bastard if he was on fire.

santa-mad

With the big man in red seeing red, our intrepid reporter wasn’t game to ask what the number one most wished for Christmas item was from Australia, although my money’s on having a truck-load of pineapples smashed up Scott Morrison’s arse with a sledgehammer. Whatever it is, there’s no doubt that we’ve lost our way with Christmas. Sure as cunts I can’t buggered with it! Like the kids are saying: Fuck Christmas – I’m saving all my party stuff ‘til Tony Abbott dies.

All-in-one Kitchen Revolution!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 4, 2010 by Buck Frain

Amazing breakthrough technology. 

Imagine a device so flexible and multi-purposed that it allowed you to throw away virtually all of your cumbersome kitchen appliances in one go.

It’s a slow-cooker, it’s a rice cooker, a bread maker, pie maker, fryer, boiler, roaster, steamer, griller and more. Entrees, mains, desserts, it can do them all. It make a thanksgiving dinner for the whole family, it can toast bread, it can even make you a cup of tea or coffee!!!

Anything you need to cook that requires heat can be prepared to gourmet chefs’ standards using this one device. 

How much would you pay for such an appliance? 

How about NOTHING AT ALL? 

Too good to be true? 

Not so! 

In Australia every house either rented or sold has one of these devices ALREADY!!! 

Yes, you miserable shit-sucking fuckholes, IT’S YOUR FUCKING OVEN!!! 

LEARN TO FUCKING USE IT AND STOP TWATTING ON ABOUT DOUCHEBAG, STUPID, PIECE-OF-SHIT APPLIANCES YOU’VE BEEN CONNED INTO BUYING BECAUSE YOU’RE A CUNTING USELESS PIECE OF MINDLESS EXCREMENT!!! 

LEARN TO COOK OR KILL YOURSELF AND SHUT THE  FUCK UP BECAUSE I’M FUCKING TIRED OF IT!!!

10 Dead People I’ll Joyfully Slaughter Again When They Come Back As Zombies.

Posted in Specials with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 31, 2009 by Buck Frain

The Halloween Special, 2009.

In Australia we don’t really give a fuck about Halloween but we’re all just a little jealous of countries that do celebrate it because it looks like fun. If only we could stop drinking alcohol, turn the sport off for a second or be arsed putting some effort in to dressing up like freaks for a non-sporting occasion. If only we weren’t too paranoid to let our children knock on strangers doors for fear they get fingered by one or more of the many pedos infesting our imploding society.

Anyway, in the spirit of all things Halloween I thought I’d share a little list of people I missed out on the opportunity of butchering the first time they were alive, a list of 10 dead people I’ll joyfully slaughter again when they come back as zombies.

10. John Wayne. 

john_wayne

Fuck you, John Wayne! What a fucking tool. For convincing inarticulate, box-headed, drawling lummoxes everywhere that they could be heroes, fuck off! Way to overcompensate for being named Marion. No six-shooter for you, zombie John Wayne, it’s a shotgun wound to the head!

9. Jane Austen.

jane_austen

Jane-piss-weak-cunting-Austen, I fucking had to read your shit in high school and endure innumerable bullshit TV and movie adaptations – forced upon be by many an ex-girlfriend – of your horrendous bourgeois bollocking on and on and on about how to get a rich cock without looking either materialistic or slutty. Oh Mr. Darcy, your sideburns are so becoming if only I could get your wealthy member up my back passage without it seeming shameful to Pater. You boring, boring cunt, Jane Austen, you’ll be marginally more interesting as a zombie but it’ll be a joy blast your stupid face apart with a musket.

8. Ricardo Montalban

khan

Mr. Roarke in Fantasy Island AND Khan in Star Trek II. Ricardo was a fucking hard-man and a star. I would kill him with full respect. He’s a fucking legend! I was tempted to put that fucking little prick who played Tattoo on the list as well but he’s just a little cunt and doesn’t really deserve a listing of his own, I’d kill him for sure but not here, I’d use the leftover energy I had from killing…

7. Franz Kafka.

kafka

It’s not fashionable to hate Kafka but I don’t give a fuck. He was a boring, sickly, whiny little pissant! Fuck him and his long fucking sentences. Fucking middle class wankstick, and fuck you if you like him! Oh, I’m so weak and sick and not really troubled about money; everyone ignores me because I’m so pathetic and oh no I had a nightmare that I turned into a cockroach last night because Daddy was mean to me because I’m a sorry waste of jizz. Suck it up, Kafka, ya worthless bug, I’m stompin’ your zombie head to bits with my boots until it completely comes away from that weedy insect body!

6. Elvis Presley.

Dead_Elvis

Oh shut up and stop crying. He fucking well is dead and you knew it all along. When he was alive he was a fucking toadie for J. Edgar Hoover, and big fat junkie ballbag. Yeah, he’s the most famous cover artist in the world but I don’t give a shit. I’m gonna smash his head apart with a big old heavy ceramic toilet bowl! Fuck off!

5. Charlton Heston.

charlton_heston

From my cold dead hands… *BOOM* Shotgun blast to the head. Fuck you, zombie-Charlton, you old cunt! You were a star and then you just degenerated into a fucked up old crackpot. You fucking lost it and you fucking deserve your rotten brain splattered all over my driveway!

4. Margaret Thatcher.

MargaretThatcher

OK. Strictly speaking she hasn’t died the first time yet but it can’t be long and in truth it’s questionable whether there was ever really any living humanity within the iron bint. Fuck you, Maggie, 20 years may have sentimantalised you in the minds of many but I know you’re an evil old shitter and I’ll thoroughly enjoy smashing your brains out with a Steinway grand piano.

3. David Carradine.

david-carradine

I fucking love David Carradine. He was Kane in Kung Fu. He was Grasshopper! He was hardcore and my respect for him is in no way diminished by the fact that he died tied up neck-to-cock in a chokey wank accident. Fuckin’ way to go out! He’d be a hardcore zombie and out of respect I’ll save my ammo and waste him with a samurai sword.

2. Mrs Sally Scott aka Sand Bags.

predator-pumpkin

A bit obscure? She was a teacher of mine in primary school and one of the most evil people I’ve ever met. Someone born with a true malice for children and driven by that hate to make their lives as unpleasant as possible. Known as Sand Bags for her saggy, waist-level breasts, she hated everyone. Above is an actual photograph of her taken in 1984. it doesn’t show the pendulous breasts but you get the idea. She beat kids with her hands, rulers and blackboard dusters, forbade them going to the toilet to dire and embarrassing effect, she was insidious in the way she would undermine a child’s confidence, happiness and imagination and I could go on. Trust me she was fucked! When I asked my mate Rob if he was going to have a party for his 10th birthday he said Nah! I’m savin’ all my party stuff ‘til Mrs Scott dies! He wasn’t kidding, he never had a birthday party as long as I knew him. She died after I left town. I never found out if he had that party. I’ll fucking chop that old bitch up with a fucking axe! I’m tempted to dig the old bitch up for a chop even if there isn’t a zombie apocalypse.

1. Stan Zemanek. 

stan_zemanek_still_dead_still_a_cunt

What a rotten old cunt! Reactionary, right-wing purveyor of ignorance, TV personality and talk-back radio fuckhead Stan Zemanek was such a toxic human being that his own brain got the shits up and killed him rather than stay in his head. I was so fucking happy when this old bastard died  two years ago that I still smile about it now. He was the fucking worst and if any of his family members are reading this. FUCK YOU! I’M GLAD THE OLD CUNT’S DEAD! YOU’RE WRONG, HE WASN’T A NICE PERSON, HE WAS FUCKED BECAUSE HE MADE A KILLING OUT OF ENCOURAGING PREJUDICE AND STUPIDITY!!! I’ll hobble that old bastard with two blows from a sledgehammer. One to each knee. Then as he kneels glassy-eyed before me I’ll swing that hammer out in a wide horizontal arc gooshing his ugly-Vader-with-his-mask-off head forever. 

You know what?…I think I’m gonna go and have a shit on his grave tonight! Right on it!

Ah…I feel better. Happy Halloween!

Queensland Government Fights The War Against Glass!

Posted in Rage Against The Machine with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2009 by Buck Frain

Good work Queensland, you fucking gimps! What a stupid, stupid place to live. Queensland, the home of XXXX ‘beer’, Bundaberg Rum and rampant stupidity. Let’s ignore the fact that the recalcitrant fucks have refused daylight saving because it fades the curtains and confuses the cows. Let’s ignore the fact that no bastard in the entire state knows how to make a decent cup of coffee. I just want to focus in on this latest piece of idiocy.

The Queensland Government is in the process of banning  glass in pubs. Why? Because the lousy, cowardly bogan fucks of Queensland, just like those found elswhere across the country, have taken to glassing the shit out of anyone they take a dislike to when they’ve got a skin full of piss.

glassing_victim

I don’t think there’s any doubt that glassing is awful. It’s shithouse! There is very little that’s quite as reprehensible as taking glass to an unarmed opponent. It’s a piss-weak piece of hooliganism that seems to have been adopted from the UK – thanks for another fine cultural export, right up there with foxes, small pox and convicts! I have the greatest sympathy for victims of this sort of cowardice, however, the problem I have with the removal of glass from pubs is that it doesn’t solve the fucking problem, it’s just a thoroughly cock-brained piece of policy-making that fucks up everyone’s pub experience. As civilized adults we should be able to enjoy a cold beer from a chilled glass. We should be able to drink wine, or whatever else for that matter, from glass vessels. Glass is beautiful. Organic. Dignified. Plastic is carcinogenic and arse! We shouldn’t be relegated to slurping out of plastic beakers like children just because there are a percentage douche bags in our midst. Why should everyone’s lifestyle take a dive because a minority is fucked in the head? IT CUNTING WELL SHOULDN’T!!!

broken-glass

If you take a glass to someone you should be charged with attempted murder. That’s what it is. Glass is a potentially lethal weapon. You glass someone, you may not be trying to kill them, but you are maliciously trying to permanently disfigure them in a way that will – especially in a society as superficial as ours – destroy their life as they know it. You should be locked away for the rest of your stupid life. Get fucked! You should not be allowed to be part of society. It’s that fucking simple. I realise that people are stupid and that drunk people are doubly so but, seriously, a fuckload more people would exercise some restraint if they thought they’d never see the light of day again. Lock the dickheads away. Shut them away forever. Until they fucking well die. Then the rest of us can get back to enjoying our beers out of good old pint glasses like grown-ups rather than drinking out of plastic cups like we’re at some 7 year old’s birthday party.

If you ban glass, society’s shit-sticks will just find other things to mutilate people with. What will you ban next? Pool cues? Pool balls and anyone wearing socks? Chairs? Pencils? What exactly will you be left with? Why not ban alcohol? While you’re at it ban cars, toasters, lawnmowers, cutlery and toothbrushes? Why not ban razor blades – they’re fucking dangerous, and fuck it, I’ll still feel like a man shaving my face with Veet! WHY NOT MAKE THE ENTIRE WORLD OUT OF CUNTING MARSHMALLOWS??? WHY NOT JUST FUCKING KILL YOURSELVES YOU FUCKING USELESS, TERRIFIED CUNTS??? FOR FUCK’S SAKE: TAKE THE FUCKHEADS AND LOCK THEM AWAY!!! THAT’S WHAT WE HAVE CUNTING PRISONS FOR!!!

Welcome To The Death Of Freedom.

Posted in Rage Against The Machine with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 7, 2009 by Buck Frain

Really it’s just a matter of time before the death squads start rounding us up and our relatives never hear from us again.

govt-censorship

We’re sitting fat in our obese western consumocracy, pudgy fingers flicking between infomercials, relieved that we’re so much luckier than all those poor, starving, war-ravaged Africans and so much freer than the oh-so-shat-upon Chinese. What a fucking joke! We have no freedom, we gave that shit away, and we have no culture except buying shit we don’t need. Our own democratically elected government is placing a filter on our internet content that is rivaled only by China’s.  WHAT THE CUNT? I’m all for protecting people but this shit just keeps getting worse. What started out as a  kiddie porn filter is being expanded to block sites that sell or host games that do not meet Australia’s game ratings standards. Let’s ignore the fact that the filter is at best a stupid idea and that it would be a better idea to hunt down and prosecute pedos instead of censoring the net. They’re fucking computer games, I’m an adult, I think I can fucking handle it!

I don’t necessarily give a fuck about the games, what I care about is the removal from adults of the choice of whether they do something that does no harm whatsoever to anyone else.  Removal of choice. Removal of choice is removal of freedom and any removal of freedom de-humanises us. But it’s just a web filter. Bullshit! It’s censorship at its most ridiculous*. Censorship unheard of in any other civilised country in the world. But if that doesn’t matter to you then, yeah OK, today it’s a web filter. But what tomorrow? Revoking our right to freedom of assembly? Let’s fucking face it, we’re already well on the fucking way there. 

May 31st Melbournians may remember there was a peaceful gathering outside Flinders Street Station in protest against the recent violent attacks against Indian students that authorities have been trying to deny are racially motivated. This was a non-violent demonstration against violence …and the police’s reaction? Bash ‘em! Concerned that the demonstration might interest or embarrass commuters entering or leaving Flinders Street Station later that morning the police beat and kicked their way through masses of innocent citizens who were not breaking any law whatsoever. They chased the demonstrators through Flinders Street Station and beat anyone of Indian appearance that they could lay hands or a baton on. I had white friends in that demonstration and they were stunned that once away from the immediate site of the demonstration the police no longer targeted them, the police were racially profiling victims, passing by white people who had been involved in the demonstration and beating the nob out of anyone who looked vaguely Indian. I think it is a telling comment on our society that a peaceful protest against racially motivated violence and the government’s  indifference to it is met with government issued, racially targeted violence.

The reporting of this event in the Australian media was also very telling. Disregarding any notion of police brutality let alone racism, many reports told of the peaceful protest being hijacked by non-Indian trouble-makers. The people I’ve spoken to both Indian and non-Indian tell me that this is simply not true. They tell me that the ethnically diverse make-up of the demonstration was a very harmonious coming together of Australians in solidarity against disgusting acts of cowardice. They tell me that the only antagonism or “trouble-making” was from the police, many of whom were allegedly smiling as they kicked into seated members of the assembled crowd. Ah, there’s nothing as good as getting paid to smash people, is there?

So what is the message? Don’t play games unless they’re approved by the state, and don’t protest against injustice unless you want to get fuck bashed out of you. What sort of country is it that has rules like this? Is this a free or civilized nation?

censorship

What we’re witnessing is a removal of options and a crackdown on dissent. Like the removing of words from the dictionary in 1984, a gradual, incremental removal of liberties and choices. Remove choices and you force compliance. Remove ideas and you control the masses. Now I don’t want anarchy and I don’t want to watch child pornography but  I do want to be free. I want to be able to choose how I live and I want the freedom to choose wrongly. I don’t mind law and I’m perfectly willing to accept consequences for breaking the law, however, if I am unable to choose then there is no virtue in my living according to the rules. Without the possibility of a choice to be virtuous or wicked I lose my humanity,  I merely exist. I take up space and I consume and I die. I’m a cow with thumbs and a credit card. Relax you over-caffeinated fuck, you’re still free!  Yeah sure, free to stay safe in my house, to keep buying from big business’ catalogue of state-approved freedoms. Free to keep working to attain material wealth to spend on trivialities to anesthetize the deep feeling of loss I can’t articulate for a life I’m incapable of imagining. Keep the wheels of commerce greased. Have a Big Mac. Dial 13-bigfaketits. We’re being dumbed down and fattened up, ready for the slaughter. 

Coming Soon To Australia: Keep an eye out for book burnings, sedition charges, witch hunts and ethnic cleansing. 

* Fact: The average age of gamers in Australia is 30 yet there is no R18+ game rating in Australia. Think about it.  Stephen Conroy, you’re a stupid, stupid useless cunt of a man.

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!

 

Happy Shitting Birthday! Pape smear, anyone?

Posted in 10 People I'd Love To Smash with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 21, 2009 by Buck Frain

I didn’t get a cake but if I had, I imagine it would have looked like this:

shitcake

This week marked the 1st anniversary of the creation of Buck Frain’s Angry Place. Happy Birthday, Place! One whole year of public spleen-venting…and what a cunt of a year it’s been! I’ve gotta say I’m surprised that people have actually paid any notice to my ravings, it proves to me that the world is a far sicker place than even I had imagined. Nonetheless, I thank you all for your attention, your adoration, contempt and disdain and your comments, positive and negative alike. Ya fuckin’ sickos! Rest assured, there’s plenty of rage left in the tank, I’m just as fucked off as I was this time last year but then not a lot has improved in the world so what the shit does anyone expect?

 

This year everything was starting to look OK for everyone who earned less than $80,000 last year with the government announcing a stimulus package to support working Australians that would see us all get a rebate of $900. That’s $900 cash. Each. From the government…for free! That’s brilliant! It’s excellent! At a time when we’re all pretty fucked, the government actually gives something back to the people who fuckin’ need it! Woohoo!!!

 

But then, a slimy-toe-rag lawyer, university lecturer and former National Party toady named Bryan Pape came along and has challenged this payout in The High Court. BASTARD! He says it’s unconstitutional…and The High Court is hearing him on 30th March! THE ROTTEN, MISANTHROPIC, BALL-GRATING, EAR-FUCK!!!

 

He’s wealthy, he’s a miserable old cock-sucker and he wants all that money – your and my fucking money – to go back to the shitting government! It was ours to start with anyway, it was our cunting tax money! If the government wants to give some of it back, why the steaming-shit-sandwich should that be deemed unconstitutional??? ARSE!!!

 

Well fuck that, I’m not putting up with it! If The High Court knows what’s good for it it’ll boot Bryan Pape out on his wrinkly old arse and tell him to go and get fucked by bikers! I mean, what could be more un-Australian that stealing $900 each off 8.7 million members of the working population. He’d better hope his case fails because if it succeeds  there won’t be a pub in Australia where the cunt can safely get a beer! So, in the interest of public vengeance, on the chance that this ridiculous, mean-spirited old wanker actually succeeds in robbing honest Australians of a bit of relief, I offer this:

 

KNOW YOUR ENEMY!

This is him. And his contact details. This cunt is Bryan Pape, the old bastard hell-bent on robbing you of your $900. Feel free to drop him a line and tell him what you think of his plan! Hell, find out where he lives! Have a shit on his mum!

bryan_pape

 Once again, I suppose for the benefit of those without a sense of humour or who are in some other respect gorm deficient,  I should clearly state: This is not really a call to action. I do not wish any actual harm to come to Bryan Pape no matter how much of a twat I think he is. For cunt’s shitting sake, this whole site is just intended as a bit of a laugh, chill the fuck out.  If I asked you to jump off a bridge, would you do that too? Actually, that’s not a bad idea: Jump off a fucking bridge! I can recommend the West Gate and the Bolte if you’re in Melbourne. Please, for fuck’s sake, don’t waste yourself in front of a train – the fucking things get delayed or cancelled enough without useless cunts clogging up the wheels. Remember, some of us do have something to live for!

11 Shit Things That Make Share-House Living Suck – #9

Posted in 11 Shit Things That Make Share-house Living Suck. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 4, 2008 by Buck Frain

appetitelarge 

#9. Homebrew, Hydroponics & An Appetite For Self-Destruction.

Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games…  

 

You’re young. You’re poor. You’re forced into sharing squalid surrounds with strangers. But you’re alive and parent-free and filled with a burning need to fuck and recreationally self-medicate as much of the time as possible, and why the balls not? The world is going to hell and holds little to no meaning, and the possibility of finding a job that you don’t want to top yourself for doing for the rest of you life is miniscule. Your best bet is to have some laughs and destroy as many brain cells as you can in the hope that you’ll stop caring and render yourself able to become a useful member of society. 

Good news: For over 15,000 years people with sod all money or education have been successfully brewing their own beer and getting right off their chops. It’s way cheaper than buying beer and provides you with a feeling of accomplishment whilst freeing up more of your precious cash for hardcore pharmaceuticals.

 

Good news 2: It’s fuckin’ legal!

 

You don’t have to be living with economics students to know brewing your own beer makes good financial sense, shit knows I wasn’t. Our entire house was, for the first time, unified in the mission of brewing and we became a little monk-like for a couple of weeks – checking, obsessing, focusing all our energies on the brew. We bottled and started another brew going. We bottled that and started another. Our cellar grew week by week and we waited for the brews to mature.

 

This enterprise inspired diversification in our endeavours and we constructed a small hydro setup in the ample broom closet and started growing two plants. We were set to become completely self-sufficient in basic intoxicants and we were very excited. The plants grew rapidly aided by a small UV light and numerous very questionable chemicals.

 

Finally, we harvested half a pound of buds once we’d run out of room in our makeshift cellar for bottles. We dried the weed and then chilled down a couple of dozen beers. To try. We tried. Ooh! Success. The beer was a pale lager style beer modeled after Mexican beers like Corona. Except it was about 6.5% alcohol so along with its crisp, refreshing taste and easy drinking body, it had a kick like a mule. The pot stopped time and rendered speech impossible.

weed_pot 

Five months later we were still wasted. We were producing nearly four cartons of beer a week and had to put in a serious effort just to make sure we were drinking that much so as to keep the cellar from increasing. Also, having large quantites of free pot lying about meant that we were smoking bongs incessantly. Someone in the house always had a doobie going or so it seemed and no matter where you’d come from or where you were going someone in the house would offer you a hit. We had endless parties, we invited our friends for barbecues and told them just to bring meat. We were kings. Mad, mad, debauched maniacal kings. Intervention and/or rehab was inevitable.

 

So where’s the cunting problem, Buck, you fuckin’ ingrate? I hear you ask, and well you may.

 

My housemates and I were sitting in the lounge room one evening. We were suitably toasted and idly entertaining the possibility of roping in our chemist mate in to help us make some LSD, a move that might well usher in a golden age in our Kingdom of Lad. We all jumped at the sound of the front door being smashed open. It didn’t come off its hinges but the deadlock tore through the frame and the inner handle punched a hole through the gyprock. I turned to face the sound and saw a flash of dirty denim and ginger goatee before the end of his baseball bat sank into my solar plexus and I crashed to the floor with the fear that I’d never be able to breathe in again. A heavy boot stomped between my shoulder blades forcing my cheek into the roughly finished floorboards. The double barrels of a sawn-off shotgun quickly filled my field of vision. I could hear the distant pleading of my house-mates amongst gruff threats and the sounds of the house being torn apart. My eyes were full of tears and my diaphragm was spasming air in and out of my body in such a way that I felt like a fish drowning in air on the deck of a boat.

…you’re in the jungle, baby! You’re gonna die!!! 

 

I couldn’t get my head around the terrifying reality that I was about to die in a gang related drug den massacre. My mum really didn’t deserve this. The voices were increasingly impatient in their demands and my body refused to let me answer. I pointed desperately to the esky in the middle of the lounge room floor. Calloused fingers flung the lid off the esky and pulled out a garbage bag full of weed. Congratulatory cheers followed. The shotgun withdrew. Another neanderthal returned to the room having found our meager broom-closet greenhouse with the verdict: Nah, it’s bullshit, they’re just cunts! Laughter. Ah well, thanks cunts. Oh, and don’t remember us or we’ll come back and kill yas! More laughter. Exit the bogan horde in a roar of Harley Davidson belligerence.

 

It seemed that despite our relatively small social circle, our friends had regaled their friends with tales of our enterprises and the resultant parties. These tales had been passed on, embellished and degrees of separation had closed until a group of hairy, stinky fucking outlaw bikies had decided to shut down our non-profit crime empire. It also seemed that I’d pissed my pants. Fuck you, near death experiences!

11 Shit Things That Make Share-Living Suck – #6

Posted in 11 Shit Things That Make Share-house Living Suck. with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 8, 2008 by Buck Frain

#6. Burning The Midnight Toast.

 

This particular share-house phenomenon took its name from a quite inoffensive event. After a suitably boozy night when several members of the house had returned late from their respective nights out, we arose to find two ice-cold pieces of blackened toast sticking out of the top of the toaster. Beside the toaster sat the butter and there was an unused butter knife on the counter over an open cutlery drawer. The evidence all pointed to someone being so heavily shit-pantsed that they’d decided to make toast but either forgot the cause part-way through, or weren’t up to completing the task and just went off to bed. As each member of the house surfaced, they were asked: 

Hey, who was burning the midnight toast last night?

 

It was loveably roguish behaviour and burning the midnight toast made its way into the household’s vernacular as a euphemism for any strange domestic rearrangements that may have taken place overnight, possibly under the influence of intoxicants.

 

Unfortunately, the term began to lose its lustre as it became used as an excuse for all sorts of unpleasant indiscretions. The following are all 100% genuine questions we had to, and did, ask house-mates over the course of several months:

 

Excuse me, do you know who…

 

     …left an uncooked cake in the oven?

 

     …owns the dildo on the couch?

 

     …kicked over the stereo?

 

     …ordered a prostitute?

 

     …screamed abuse at the neighbours last night?

 

     …left a used condom on the kitchen floor?

 

     …tried to poke vomit down the plug-hole in the bathtub?

 

     …had a piss in the fridge?

 

It’s bad, bad, bad, wrong, wrong, WRONG!!! Everyone has their moments and most people burn the midnight toast at some point but there are limits, people, FUCKING LIMITS!!! Get help, get counselling, go to rehab, leave me the stomped-ballbag alone because I don’t want to fucking well live with you filthy fucking animals ANY-CUNTING-MORE!!!

You Wouldn’t Steal A Car – Rip & Burnout!

Posted in Wankers In Denial with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 6, 2008 by Buck Frain

DVD copyright warnings. What the cat-fisting Jesus is with all the warnings? I mean, I go to the shop and buy a DVD. I fucking well BUY it! I take it home and before I’m allowed to watch the fucking thing that I own for fuck’s sake I have to sit through a warning about what will happen if I steal, copy or profit from its piracy. I fucking own it and I have to put up with this accusatory bullshit before I can watch what I legally own! It’s not even like the good old VHS days when you could fast forward through all the shit to get to the good stuff, you have to watch it. And not just once! When you’ve got through one warning you then get a lame-arsed commercial to crappy warning music with fast edits flashing slogans telling you: You wouldn’t steal a car! You wouldn’t steal a handbag! and a whole bunch of other shit so Don’t steal movies! and Movie piracy is stealing! and blah blah shit shit shit. WHAT THE FUCK??? I CUNTING WELL OWN IT, YOU DRIBBLING, SYPHILLITIC NOB-ENDS!!! Even if I didn’t own it, even if I’d just rented it from the fucking video store, isn’t it a bit presumptuous to assume I’m going to want to steal it before I’ve even watched the cunting thing? For fuck’s sake, what if it sucks? Why the fuck would I steal a turd?

 

Having bought Season 3 of The Mighty Boosh and put it in my player, part-way through the multiple warnings I’ll have to watch every time I want to view the DVD, I got so fucked off I just stood up and stomped my coffee table to pieces Eh, master-race IKEA bullshit, I always despised you anyway! took the pieces out into my courtyard, doused them in lighter fluid and incinerated them. I felt a little better and as the flames of triumphant fury warmed my face I started thinking about why the DVD companies should feel the need to have so many warnings cluttering up their shit.

 

Why? Fucking why have multiple warnings about piracy before and after films as well as all over the packaging? DVDs I’ve bought from the USA have FBI warnings on them for shit’s sake! Watch out, bitches, the fuckin’ feds are comin’ to bust yo punk ass!!! It all seems a pretty heavy-handed policy of intimidation but it’s all undone by the commercials with their imploring consumers to do the right thing. To the untrained eye it would appear almost as though they’re trying to prevent something they have absolutely no control over, you know, like when kittens puff all their fur up and walk sideways in an attempt to look frightening. Except, of course, kittens are cute and they don’t prevent you watching movies you’ve paid for with a never-ending stream of pissing and moaning about what they’ll do to you if you avoid their copy-protection systems with easily-available freeware applications and burn exact digital replicas of their product rather than forking out ridiculous amounts of money for an obsolete media format. Well, be realistic, if they did you’d just lock them in the kitchen and sit down and enjoy your movie without them.

 

You wouldn’t steal a car! Well, let’s think about that: If I could steal it by cheaply making an exact replica so I’d have exactly the same car but the owner wouldn’t know I’d done it nor would he lose any benefit of his car and I’d probably never ever get caught for it- fuck it, wouldn’t I steal it? Of course I fucking would! I’d have a yard full of faux-Ferraris, Lamborghinis, you fucking name it, I’d never watch a fucking movie again!

 

If anyone has software for copying furniture please e-mail me, I need to pirate a coffee table, I’ve been spending too much money on DVDs!