Return of the Duck Face

Wow.

It’s been a while since I actually wrote a full-on ranty blog. It’s not because I haven’t had anything to rant about – more because I couldn’t be arsed, and am happy to see the daily views ticking over from you pervs reading my erotic stories.

Anyway, sneaking a look over someone’s shoulder earlier today, I was pleased to discover them flicking through a few pics of a rather good looking Facebook friend.

Or she WOULD have been good-looking, except every picture looked like this:

My initial thought was “What in the blue-waffled FK are you doing???”

Had I stumbled onto the promotional manager for the new Zoolander film, trying shit out??

Maybe I was witnessing a rare cancer of the lips, or someone who’d had some kind of -ing accident with an airtight sandwich grill??

No – it seems that the duck face/trout pout trend is still going strong.

A quick look through some other peoples pics showed more of the same.

Now, I know I’m not up with current trends and fashions, so maybe I should give the benefit of the doubt here?

Are there people out there who do find this look attractive??

There must be some reason why women do this in the first place?  I mean, you looked great until you started doing that crazy shit with your mouth!  And I don’t mean THAT crazy shit…

Are you looking at your selfie (with obligatory toilet, Anal Glide or abandoned toddler in the background), and actually seeing something else through your poor, slack (to hide the wrinkles) eyes?

Just SMILE, you knobs!

Maybe I should also categorise this blog under ‘erotica’ so you duck-billed wankers can jerk off to that, too?

NHS Complaint to Bromsgrove MIU

The online feedback form I left on the NHS website should pretty much explain this one.

My answer to the question before, “What could be done to improve your visit for next time?” was: Get the nurse to wind her neck in.

“How likely would you be to recommend our service to friends and family?”

Very unlikely.

“Please tell us why you gave that answer?”

Oh, ok then… *takes a deep breath*

I was told to go to x-ray and MIU by my GP with a suspected wrist/scaphoid injury following a racing car crash a week ago, where my open wheeled car had collided with another car, torquing my hands around with the steering wheel (and launching me 3ft in the air before another heavy landing, if you want all the exciting details).

The x-rays thankfully showed no fractures, and I dutifully booked in to MIU as advised. I do not like hospitals or doctors, hence me having waited a week in considerable pain from my injuries, but was extremely pleasant to all staff, especially after the x-ray as I was happy that nothing was broken. I am aware this pleasantness and cheery attitude may have been interpreted to mean I was not in pain – when in fact I would have rated my pain on this visit at a 7/10.

The student nurse who saw me very quickly advised as it was a soft tissue injury there was likely nothing more that they could do as the preferred method is not to strap up such injuries. This was absolutely fine with me, as was the quite long subsequent wait as she went to seek advice from a nurse. The wait was also fine, as I was by no means a priority case and fully understood others needed staff attention.

A blue uniformed nurse then returned to me pushing a trolley load of attitude before her, making her impatience with me extremely clear as she asked me – yes ME – why I was there. Somewhat confused by this, I told her the GP had told me I should go to MIU after my x-ray. She snapped on about x-ray being the ones who would refer me to MIU – which may well be the case, but I don’t see how I’d become the naughty schoolboy?

After answering “I don’t know?” when she asked what they were supposed to do, she then dug her thumbs into what I believe is known as the ‘snuff box’ area of my wrist.

I’m not sure how she then managed not to notice my hissed intake of breath through bared teeth, but declared instantly that I wasn’t in any pain (Really?? I’d have rated that a good strong 9, thank you very much!!!) before stroppily lecturing me that I would need a serious bone deficiency to have any chance of a scaphoid injury in that type of incident.

If I wasn’t so shocked by this whole damning onslaught, I would have corrected her that it is, in fact, one of the most common injuries of open wheel racing drivers in exactly this type of incident, but still trying to hold onto my relief I thanked her (not even sarcastically, because I’m apparently too polite a person for such hateful interactions!), and left.

Having been very worried when my GP advised scaphoid injuries could cause major complications such as necrosis, I realised I should have been more willing to seek medical advice sooner – but after meeting Blue Nurse from MIU, I’m back to thinking I’d be better off with a staple gun, duct tape, and staying away from corrosive moody people to solve my medical needs.

I am actually sorry for wasting your time, as if I’d known there was no after care I’d have just gone back to work sooner. But I don’t know that – and I feel that it’s the job of Blue Nurse and her ilk to advise me. Nicely.

Drug Driving Is Officially Illegal From Today!

According to a few news sources (who as a rare treat are actually pedalling important news that isn’t about some granny falling off a stage), today, new rules come into force to crack down on people driving under the influence of drugs.

Whilst in theory, this means less chance for people like me to get squished by big white vans stinking of ganja at 8 in the morning, it also grinds on me like an ugly stripper that you suspect has herpes, and wants to rub her damaged bits on you.

It seems that by swab tests at the roadside or ‘other tests’ back at the Police station, they can now catch you and charge you.

And it’s pretty hefty, too – 1 year minimum driving ban.  I don’t fully understand the measurements they use to identify a positive test, but they look pretty low.

And there lies our first problem…

I have no problem with people injecting whatever drugs they like into their eyeballs or up their snouts, but if this is going to catch someone who had a sly joint 2 days ago, it’s not a good thing for anyone.

Then there’s the fact that they WILL also test for legal medication, and you can still be charged. In one link I saw this:

“People using prescription drugs – including morphine and methadone – will not be penalised if they use the drugs within the recommended amounts.”

Whoa!

So, you’re telling me that somone with a trace of cocain in their system is more of a danger on the roads than someone who’s just had a legal dose of methadone? I’ve never had a legal dose of methadone, admittedly, but considering it’s take to replace a hit of heroin, I’m pretty sure that the dosage will fuck you right up. A trace of a stimulant drug that speeds up your reactions, vs some meth head in his dream world?

Who exactly has made these decisions?

Secondly, where the Hell did this all spring from?

I literally only saw an article this morning.  If I’d had my usual prescription dose of crack before jumping on my bike, I could have been banned!  Or, in more serious terms – did you have time to check and arrange other transport instead of risking your prescription meds?

And lastly, I do wonder how this all compares to the tits who STILL use their mobile phones whilst driving?

And I mean, every single day I see lots of drivers with them, texting away in their lap without even looking at the road for seconds at a time.

That’s, what? A £60 fine when they get caught? Not that they ever do…

I can’t help thinking that I’d fancy my chances more against a driver on LSD than some twat updating their Facebook status as they drive…

50 Shades Of Grey – Acceptable Porn

I had this rant back in 2012.  I’m pretty sure the whole of society managed to agree on the fact that the books were utter shite.

Well, apparently not.

We have been treated to the film version!

Oh yes! Some skinny wench with ribs hanging out everywhere is now up on the big screen with her brooding-yet-powerful and equally as wooden co-star, and you get to sit in a cinema paddling away at your pink bits while everyone pretends to laugh about it all.

So here is my original blog on the ‘phenomenon’ – just replace the word ‘book’ with ‘film’ and feel free to go at it again:

You have probably been battered around your lady-parts lately by all this excitement over the book ’50 Shades Of Grey’ by E. L. James.

Everyone is going mental over it… err… ok – so by ‘everyone’ I mean the same kind of women who went mental over the Harry Potter books.  Of course, with this book being of actual adult material, it’s been attracting the interest of even more people than the scarf-wearing geeky twat for retards.

And speaking of twats – that’s pretty much what 50 Shades Of Grey is all about!Don’t get me wrong – I’m all for porn.  Just stop trying to dress it up as something else!

Oh, sure – they’ll call it ‘erotic fiction’, but essentially that just means it’s all the writing from pornographic magazines compiled and expanded without the pictures.And ‘erotica’ is never just about straight sex anymore.  It’ll be whips, chains, spanking, klyster suits and two girls eating each others shit out of a cup!

Yes, I AM a bitter ex-writer of erotica – and I’ve had this rant before about how ‘erotica’ these days can’t just be about a couple having sex.  Apparently it’s not ‘sexy’ until a toy soldier gets shoved up someones arsehole.

So this book is pretty much designed to get women, in the words of ‘The Inbetweeners’, frothing at the gash.There will be lots of one-handed reading going on, if you know what I mean?

Even more astounding given this fact, is that so many people are trying to get hold of second-hand copies off others!?!

“Are the pages stuck together?”  Would be my first question!  Then I’d also be purchasing some disposable gloves and anti-bacterial gel.

I suppose one good thing that will come from this mass hysteria is that it may open up the market for erotic writing again… So maybe I should start reposting the stuff I used to put up for Sex Blog Thursday on MySpace?

ALS Ice Bucket Challenge & Russian Warriors

You might have noticed that your entire Facebook news feed, YouTube, and every other website is full of videos of your mates.

There are random screams to be heard across neighbourhood gardens.

This isn’t a zombie invasion, or the Police running Crime Watch appeals – it’s the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge!

You pour a bucket of ice water over your noggin, then nominate more people to do the same, and then donate some of your dosh to the ALS charity.

Now, first off, the ALS can bugger off.  You’ll see articles creeping in about how only 20% of donated money gets to ‘the cause’ and the rest pretty much goes on paying the wages of fat con men (aka Directors etc).

Luckily, many are already giving to the charity of THEIR choice – which can only be a good thing.

I’m not going to get into the whole issue of whether you need to throw a bucket of ice over yourself on video to be able to donate.  There are a million charities out there, and many people who would do better to keep the money themselves.  I don’t care who you give to or your reasons for giving.  You’ll have to justify your choices to yourself, ultimately.

What most people don’t know is that dousing yourself in ice water isn’t a new thing to some of us martial artists!

In ‘Systema’ – The Russian System – it is an integral part of the whole Russian health system.

Renowned Master of the art, Vladimir Vasiliev, recommends tipping a bucket of ice water over yourself twice a day!

This builds character and willpower, and has many health benefits.

Some people are scared that this Ice Bucket Challenge stuff will give them a cold.

You can’t ‘catch a cold’ from being cold!  It irritates me how this kind of wives tale still lives strong these days!  FFS did none of you do science at school?

Anyway, in Systema, if you are ill, then rather than having a whine and chickening out, those crazy Ruskies will actually go stand outside and tip a bucket of water over themselves EVERY HOUR!

Seriously.

The theory here (aside from psychic/natural reasons) is that your core body temperature is raised momentarily as it fights the sudden icy drop in temperature.  This will kill most bad things in your body, and have you back on your feet in no time.

I haven’t tried this myself, yet, but when you jump on the bandwagon and ‘brave’ a bit of cold water, you should maybe think about the practitioners of Systema who do this all the time.

E-cig Rant

I’m one of those irritating people who only ever smokes when they drink in the pub.

Not every time – but often I’ll get a few beers in me and have a smoke.  I like it.

I don’t, however, like the smell on my hands and clothes, the smoke-in-your-eye moments, the damned PRICE of a pack of Marlboro these days (Over £8 for 20!!!!), and the fact that smoking makes you die of impotence/cancer/horrible-looking picture things.

It kind-of makes sense for me to have a look at the whole E-cigarette stuff that’s going on.

So it gives you all the nicotine that gives you hit, with none of the nasty smoke, chemicals, or having to go outside to smoke.

I decided, along with my fiancée, that we’d grab one of the £6 ones from the local chemist.  Extra strong.  Disposable after around 400 fag puffs (tee-hee!).

 

I took my first drag (making the end light up orange for some reason? I mean, I’m not five bloody years old so don’t really need this?!?) and proceeded to cough my lungs up worse than with a ‘normal’ cigarette!

Being a bit surprised by this, I had a few more drags on it, figuring the hoofing great nicotine rush must be on its way…

It wasn’t.

I puffed away intermittently through the night as I downed a few pints, even resorted to hand-bongs to get some effect, and only ever managed to make myself cough.

Maybe the ‘extra strong’ ones from the chemist are to help people quit smoking (I haven’t started, yet, so don’t want this!), and are stupidly weak?  I’ve been advised to buy these expensive kits with loads of geeky stuff like batteries, atomisers, coils and flavoured poncy, err… flavours – but I’m trying to do this to save me money!  Surely all this geekiness is a bit unnecessary for someone who smokes around 4 cigarettes a month?!

We did find my fiancée sat there smoking it when she wouldn’t normally have been smoking a cigarette, so that idea kind-of fails heavily, there!

There is a lot of talk about them being allowed in the workplace.  I say this is absolutely fine – along with mainlining crack and snorting heroin through your testicles.  I mean, you’re basically gobbing downa  load of drugs at work when you smoke, so why not let us all skag up a bit, too, right?

Or it would be fair… if the damned things actually gave you any kind of rush.

A Blog About Taking Pics For Cancer. For Cancer.

First there were hundreds of selfie pics appearing all over social networks.  Not the usual selfie featuring a toilet in the background – these were pics of women without any makeup on.

Interesting.  You don’t see it from most people very often.  Oh, and the ’cause’ is For Cancer.

That’s got to be good, right?

Then there was the inevitable male repost of them taking pics of themselves WITH makeup on.  For Cancer.

Fair enough.

Suddenly, in the true spirit of social media, people started posting pics of themselves naked, with a sock over their genitalia.  Cocks In Socks.  For Cancer.

Righty-ho, thinks I, still saying nothing, as it’s For Cancer.

This morning, I logged in to see a picture of a topless woman, with her ample breasts each tucked into a woolly glove to hide their modesty.  Tits in Mitts.  For Cancer.

ENOUGH, PEOPLE!!!!

Cancer awareness is a great cause.  I AM aware of cancer.   I don’t need to be reminded I could die of it by 50,000 posts on Facebook and Twitter!

“Ooh, look how fun and wacky we’ve made cancer!”

No.  What you’ve done is spread the kind of fear that most of you sheep subconsciously thrive upon.  Now all we’re seeing is “Yay, Cancer!!!” every time we log in.

Now here’s me making myself a cup of tea.  For Cancer.

He’s my cute little dog.  For Cancer.

You should all share this picture of a dwarf fisting a traffic warden!  For Cancer.

Yes, we could all get cancer.  I bet hardly any of you posting these self-indulgent pics are giving every spare penny you have to cancer charities, are you?

Now fuck off.  For Cancer.

Stropping – Make Your (Male & Female) Razors Last Forever!

Some skills and techniques are lost or made redundant over time.

If you’ve ever seen someone using a straight razor – or ‘cut throat’, like Sweeney Todd used to slash peoples throats – you may have seen them run the edge of the blade along a belt-type strip before they start shaving.

This is called ‘stropping’.  It keeps the edge of the blade sharp for a smooth and close cut.

What you may not know, is that this technique actually works on all modern razors!

I pay about £400 for a pack of 3 blades for my Gilette Mach 3 Turbo, and some people replace the blade after a week, or even a few days.  That kind of money builds up quickly.

I’d heard that stropping worked on these, but never tried it.  A few years ago I looked further into it, watching a few YouTube videos and looking at a load fo confusing techniques and explainations.

What you need to know is that it works.  I’d already been using my razor for ages, and it was at that stage where it sort-of grabs at your hair as you shave, and feels more like it’s ripping it out than cutting it.  Months later I was using that same blade and it felt like it had only been out the packet for a few days!

People online are claiming they’ve used the same multi-blade super-duper Gillette Wilkinson Turbo Excel 19 Blade Super Vibro Cut for 6 months, or even over a year!  This works on both mens and womens razors.

I could bang on about how it doesn’t technically ‘sharpen’ the blades, as such, and you can only strop one side of the blade – but the fact is THIS WORKS!

All you have to do is run your razor down the leg of your denim jeans a few times and you’ll see the effects instantly.

I’d recommend using the calf of your leg.  Run the razor down this in long strokes about 10-20 times before and after each use.  Run it BACKWARDS down your jeans – i.e. the OPPOSITE way from which you’d shave.  This won’t harm your jeans at all.  If you’re really worried about this, get some old jeans and hang them up and use those.

You need to use about the same pressure as you would when you’re shaving.

And that’s it!  A few strokes and you’ll save hundreds of pounds.  Probably thousands if you’re a hairy hippie who lives to be really old.

Give it a try, and come back and post a comment once you see the massive difference it makes!

Stop being conned by all the huge corporations!

Stool Curling

I don’t get ill very often, but with the onset of old age, when I do get ill these days it’s not a half measure.

So without going into the actual details, I had to see the Doctor the other day – something I try to avoid like, err… the Plague.

Is it just me, or has NOBODY in the last 5-10 years ever been to a doctor and been told exactly what’s wrong with them?

I don’t know anybody.  It’s always “stress” or “a virus”, and no doctor will ever seem to give you a definite answer.  I sometimes wonder if they’re scared of court cases or not even actually qualified?

“Here, have some useless tablets for a bargain £8 that won’t do a thing.  You’re welcome.”

I’ve been lucky in my 36 years to have never had anything seriously wrong with me – but this time was about to be a new experience.

They wanted a blood test and a ‘stool sample’.

I’ve done well to get this far into life without it.  I guess the next milestone will be a vet shoving his arm up my arse to play dolly with my prostate – don’t expect a blog about that one, though!

He gave me about 30 pages of paper and a plastic container, which I pocketed quickly.

When in the safety of my own home, I had a good look at the stool sample collection device that I had to use.

So it’s a small plastic tube with about a 20mm diameter.  In the screw top lid there was a blue plastic spade attached.

Now the questions started.

How the Hell do I actually use it?

I mean, on a base level I know I have to get my poo into there.  But how?  And how much?

I may have been shitting through the eye of a needle sometimes, but my rusty brown eye can’t actually SEE, so how am I going to direct some rusty brown water into a 2cm tube?

I briefly considered fashioning a funnel from paper and duct tape like I do for an oil change on my bike.

This would cut down any chance, of, well, shitting all over my own hand like an angry chimp.

But then what’s the happy blue beach spade for??  Do I get points for my artistic talent if I shape my stool into a castle?  Or build a ‘Shit in a bottle’ for them?

Maybe I should avoid any messy brown accidents and show the spade up my balloon-knot and try and scrape out something of use?

Or do I hold the blue spade under my undercarriage as I drop a bomb and hope to get a good shovel full to spoon into the container?  And if that’s like sticking your tongue out to catch the falling rain, everyone knows more of it lands in your eyes than your mouth.

Are they looking for a pebble or a rock?  What do they even need to do to it?  Should I just crap in a Transformers lunchbox and fill that baby to the brim for them to make their job easier?

Sooo many questions!

Why don’t they teach you this stuff in school???  I’d already have used the knowledge more than Pythagoras’s Theorum!

Eventually I did accomplish the task, and then just had the walk of shame to casually drop my Finger Of Fudge off in the samples box next to the receptionist.

At least it made the blood test seem enjoyable in comparison!

Humans Are Mad

It has long since come to my attention that we, human beings, as a species, are stark raving mad.

Getting past the fact that we’re all just bloody weird creatures (some more wonderful than others), a lot of the things we do and eat and wear don’t make the slightest bit of sense.  I guess after religion stuck it’s filthy paws in and repressed our natural animal instincts, it’s not all that surprising.

Here are some of the reasons:

Ties

You look untidy… untidy… still untidy… wrap a totally useless bit of material around your neck – Oh, you must be an honourabel and dapper gentleman!

No, if this wasn’t ‘traditional’, you’d look like a dick.

Ironing

WTF do we need flat clothes for?  Any hippie tells you they’re saving the world, tell them how much of the Earths natural resources they waste on ironing!

We don’t have flat bodies.  Your freshly ironed clothes stay that way for about 4 seconds until you have aq sit down, put your coat on, or move at all.  And you want to kill all the worlds baby seals for THAT?!  Shame on you!

Dancing

Fling your arms around, jump up and down and move about… that’s cool!  Do it slightly differently, and people laugh?! It’s ALL mental!

We all love to see animals doing a cute little ‘dance’, don’t we?  Well that’s you.  And that’s your mother.

Food

We’ll happily eat chicken, but a pigeon?  Hell no, you dirty git!  And who the Hell first discovered cow milk and why?!  Or frying things in oil?

Christmas

The one time of year when, all of a sudden, that orange peel you throw away in disgust is suddenly more appealing than a kebab from Charlie’s after a night down The Black Cross.  Get it eaten!

Raw lemon peel?  Mmm – why not put that shit in a cake!  Lovely!

And that wine you enjoy, but insist it needs to be chilled to the same temperature as a polar bears heel?  Heat that stuff up!

Hell, lets throw some bloody cloves in, too!  Everybody suddenly turns into a garbage-eating, pot-pourri munching tramp for Jesus’ birthday!

Keep on doing your big pink talking monkey thing, folks, and I hope you all have a great 2014!