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Saturday, 29 May 2010


Time for some silliness...

You know an article that begins “not to sound too much like Perez Hilton” is going to be terrible, unless the first paragraph also includes the caveat that you are, in fact, aware the opening line of your article makes it sound like it’s going to be shit, and thus indicates that this opening is merely an amusing comment designed to highlight the ridiculousness of the subject matter of the article, and indicate that you’re aware of how dumb it is, and are writing the article ironically. Unfortunately, I am not intelligent enough to have written such an article…

Upstaged by THIS fucking guy...

I did want to do a politics article originally, but could only come up with one line:

“Ed Milliband or David Milliband? I’d rather have Steve Miller Band…” (3 Hours of writing!!!)

So, in my desperation, I turned to Thursday’s copy of “Metro”, and discovered that Miley Cyrus is now dating Justin Bieber. I also read something about a serial killer in Yorkshire, but since I already agreed to have dinner with Peter Sutcliffe when he gets out of jail, I thought I’d best not write an article about one of his competitors… Who I have dubbed “Pepsi Sutcliffe” – on the assumption that Peter Sutcliffe is the Coca-Cola of Yorkshire-based serial killing.

"Welcome to the CHOKE side of life". See what I did there? I replaced 'Coke' with 'Choke' because he strangled prostitutes. Has it been long enough for this to be funny yet, or is that still sick?

I also considered writing about the whole “Lost” and “Flashforward” finishing this week thing, but since I don’t watch Lost, and Flashforward won’t be shown in the UK until Monday, I figured I might as well wait on that one. Except to say:

You guys remember when I was complaining about how retarded Flashforward is at times? Turns out it was written by the same guy as The Dark Knight. Finally! It all makes sense...

And so here we are, reporting on the fact that Cyrus and Bieber are now dating. But don’t worry, dear reader, I won’t squeal about this in the same way as the Tweeny mags. No, instead, I’m gonna insult the fuck out of some douchebags! Who’s with me?


In the article, Miley reveals that she has not broken up with her boyfriend Liam Hemsworth, but is instead dating both guys. Apparently Hemsworth is too much of a pussy to tell her it’s over, then sneak into her house whilst she’s asleep and strangle her sister to death with a piece of electrical cable as revenge, and get away with it when the sister’s boyfriend is imprisoned in your place because the “forensic evidence” points to him having committed the crime – and Juries are too stupid to realize that:

1. Presence of your semen at a crime scene does not guarantee you committed the crime.

2. Lack of presence of your semen at a crime scene does not guarantee you definitely did not commit the crime.

But enough about my life. I couldn’t help but laugh at the story – I mean, Hemsworth looks like he’s probably a douche, but on a scale of douchiness, he’s nowhere near as bad as Justin Bieber! Here’s a helpful scale of Douche-factor, just in case you have no idea what I mean when I say “Douchy”:

The Scale of Doucheness:

Having his girlfriend start dating Bieber, and just push him to second place without dumping him is so incredibly pathetic that I actually feel genuinely sorry for the guy. We can only hope he got a chance to tap that sweet pussy before it was too late!

Leaked image of Miley Cyrus. Probably. Oh, what do you care if it's real or not, paedo? I know you're going to jerk off over it anyway!

In light of this, I decided I would write an article on the most pathetically tragic things that can happen to a guy short of his girlfriend hooking up with Justin Bieber and not even having the common decency to break up with him. Here goes:


You’re in a happy same-sex relationship with your rich Japanese boyfriend. Then one day he tells you it’s over: He’s marrying his pillow. Fuck that guy.


You’re approaching your 2 year anniversary with your girlfriend, who is away at University. You’re aware she may well tell you when you meet that she’s become a lesbian, or something similar, and you prepare yourself for this. She tells you she’s decided to join your father’s cult, in which he is the Messiah and all the women in the cult must bear his children. Fuck that guy.


You and your girlfriend go to the zoo to look at Chimpanzees. You make a joke about something I said in my incredible “Avatar” article, and she decides to actually try dating a monkey. The two of them are married within 9 months. They send you an invitation to the wedding, but you drink yourself to death trying to drown your sorrows. The bar tender has your body stuffed and put on display “for tax purposes”. Fuck that guy.


Your wife calls you and tells you she’s been cheating on you with the guy who originally played Ronald MacDonald in the TV adverts. This causes you to crash your car, which you were driving at the time, into MacDonald’s HQ. You kill the Hamburgler, and are sentenced to 14 years for involuntary manslaughter. You only serve six, but are raped by The Burger King in the showers, as he is also doing time for wanking in the Burger King milkshakes. Fuck that guy.


You admit to your girlfriend you’re into “rape fantasies” and she tells you “you might get a surprise for our anniversary”. Predictably, she puts the details of the hotel the two of you are staying at on Craigslist, and 4 Navy Boys come round and take it in turns to plug your booty hole. After they leave, you go into a catatonic state and have to be taken to hospital for mental health treatment. Your girlfriend runs away with your psychiatrist. Fuck that guy.


You are a devout Christian, and decide not to have sex before marrying. You meet a great girl, and the two of you really hit it off. 3 years later, the two of you get married. It is the happiest day of your life. You go to Paris for your honeymoon, and you tear her dress off on the bed. She has a penis. You throw up all over her shoes, and she calls security who, being French, throw you out into the street. A homeless Frenchman mugs you for your passport and wallet, and you’re left stranded in France. You go to the British embassy, who inform you that you need €80 for a new passport. You make this money by blowing everyone in the customs office for €5 a pop. When you finally get back to the UK, you discover your wife is now famous as a Big Brother contestant, and tells the whole country on live TV that you are a virgin and were too scared to fuck her. It turns out she just had a really big clit that looked like a small dick, because you’re so used to seeing your own small dick you don’t realize they’re usually bigger. You slit your wrists in the bathtub, and drift away softly, listening to Leonard Cohen. You realize too late that this is actually a mix CD your brother made, and you die to the sounds of “That’s the way I like it” by KC and the sunshine band. David Cameron personally attends your funeral, and points out that your suit is a size too small for you. He eats the entire buffet by himself, and snatches your mother’s purse. Fuck that guy.


Your Stepdaughter finds out that you called her father late the night he committed suicide and *ALLEGEDLY* pushed him into doing it. Fuck you Bob Geldof.

Nope, it can’t be done. No matter how you cut it, there is nothing worse than having your girlfriend run off with Justin Bieber. You may as well hang yourself with your underwear, Hemsworth. Or become a serial killer and claim that Miley drive you to it – you may get your name on the poster of a decent movie then – not that it will be made until after your execution, of course…

…aaaand we’re back to Serial Killers! You’re right, Pepsi Sutcliffe – I can’t seem to get you off my mind!


I suppose I should clarify, since I've just taken what is hopefully the last exam of my law degree, that all celebrity names are used in a parodying and ficticious manner. Nothing said in this article can be verified, other than the fact that Peter Sutcliffe probably killed some prostitutes once, and that Japanese people are weird. Any images used on the Blog which you find offensive are only used for comedic purposes, and I apologise for any offence caused by my posting such an inappropriate image as Bob Geldoff's face. Please don't sue me - if you do, it might just make me more popular, and you wouldn't want that, would you?