Tag Archives: humour

Happapapapapay New Year!

Have a Happy New Year!

I’ll take my chances…

So… I’ve been blogging for *cough* years now, and never really done religion. There is a very good reason for this… I just don’t care what you are, as long as you’re not a total bastard. With or without religion you can still be a total bastard. I’m anti-total bastard… not anti-religion. Any way, a recent read of GOD COLLAR (by Marcus Brigstocke) made me put finger to keyboard…

You should know me enough by now that this is not going to be a boring preachy blog….

Heck, I even drop Sometimespace’s first ‘C’ bomb…

For the sake of this blog, you have to take the stance that ‘God’ exists…

Before I start I should say that I am not so stupid as to completely say God does not exist… but I don’t believe God exists. You see, even scientists are still not sure of everything…

In fact one of the things that scientists always took to be a dead certainty… the speed of light being the fastest anything could be… has been found to be wrong…(for now…).

So where I don’t believe God exists, I am perfectly open to finding myself wrong. Much like scientists who thought the speed of light was the daddy of all speeds, they still had open minds that they might be wrong.

According to all I have seen and heard:

  • We are the creations of God.
  • God is supposedly perfect.
  • God gave us free will.
  • Disasters and such like are sent by God to test us.
  • If the disasters are not sent to test us, they are sent to punish us.
  • God knows everything.

So… let’s go back to the beginning….

God creates us. He is perfect and knows everything. He gives us free will.

He puts a tasty treat on a tree and says:

“Oi, Adam… Eve… Don’t touch that bloody tantalising piece of fruit… It’s gorgeous, succulent and you can’t touch it…or I’ll fuck you up”

I may have got the words slightly wrong, but it gives you the idea.

God created us… so knows EXACTLY what we are going to do when something like that is put in front of us. There’s no way he wouldn’t know this.

It’s like putting a fine crystal vase with Mickey and Minnie Mouse on it… on a low table… and telling a 3-year-old child to not touch it… and then leaving them alone in the room with that vase… AND THEN punishing that child AND ALL OF THEIR OFFSPRING FOR ETERNITY for going ahead and breaking that vase…

Any normal parent knows that leaving that pretty child attracting vase in easy reach is going to end in one way.

This means God was ALWAYS going to punish us… because God knew exactly what the outcome of the vase/apple would be….

The disasters, the floods, the diseases, the famines…. all punishments. All punishments for things that the all-knowing God KNEW we would do anyway.

What a wanker.

Feel my WRATH!!!!

No… wait… maybe he was ‘testing‘ us….

But again, if he is perfect he wouldn’t need to test us… He’s just throwing out debilitating illnesses to our children, giving our friends cancer and generally acting like a kid with a magnifying glass on a summer’s day…. next to an ant’s nest.

He’s doing it for fun and spite….

What a totally ass-hat of a wanker.

Maybe I shouldn’t write stuff like this… I could end up burning in Hell….. but then again, God would know I am going to write this… His bastardness knows no bounds.

Just going back to the ‘free will’ thing…. It doesn’t exist. I can go out and buy a burger when ever I want.

Some starving family in Africa can’t do that…. Sure, they have the free will to be able to do it, but they can’t. Your free will is limited to the physical things that you can actually do…. And seeing as God created everything, our ‘free will’ is TOTALLY DICTATED BY HIM…..

Free will my arse.

If God does exist, then I do not want to follow him. A God that knew all along what we’d do, and knew that we would do it… and then punishes us for doing it… A God that has taken some of my close friends and family (God created cancer, don’t you know… he created EVERYTHING)… A God that leaves my friends and family suffering… that threatens my child with damnation for doing exactly what God knew would happen…. You know what God, you can fuck off.

But wait…. Maybe God isn’t perfect….. Maybe the ‘tests‘ are to see if he’s done a good job making us….

YES! He’s not raining down destruction on us for fun… it’s all a test to make us better because he’s not prefect…. AND there you go…. I do not want to follow an imperfect God…. A God who couldn’t even make us correctly….

That would be like going to the hospital, putting your LIFE on the line and undergoing major surgery… and the surgeon doesn’t really know what they are doing, so is using you as a test subject… like a surgeon in the middle ages!!!

You’d be putting your life into the hands of a fuck-wit… You wouldn’t do that, would you?

This gives a few choices then….

  • Follow the Perfect God… who is a cunt (yes, I said it).
  • Follow the imperfect God… HA! Yes, Give your life up to someone who could be as wrong as you are…
  • Don’t follow God.

You could – and this is just throwing it out there – just try living your life in such a way that it doesn’t totally piss off your fellow human too much, and to accept that your fellow human will try to live the same way… AND that if you do end up pissing each other off, that you have the ability to not start a war and just accept that people are different.

You could – and once again, this is wild and mad – work WITH your fellow human to find cures for disease, find solutions for disasters, get together and work as one to overcome NATURAL problems….

Come on… you know this God is a tosser who just loves to see us fight and kill and rape and murder. You know that if our own hatred to each other doesn’t get his omnipotent rocks off, that he’ll send forth famine and disease to help him reach his holy vinegar strokes…

This God is just a prom queen.. and spoilt cheerleader… the girl at school who knows she is hot, and that the boys all fight over her… and yet she lets the fights carry on because she likes it… She won’t say which religion is right… sorry, I mean she won’t end the fighting by telling the boys which one she wants.

You know this because if he really existed, he’d give a definitive, non-fairy tale, not hearsay sign to us to say he exists, and that all the religious groups should all play nicely…

Maybe a HUGE sign in the sky…. something that could only be him… and not mistaken for a weather balloon… or an oddly burnt piece of Jesus toast… Something like…

There you go… Religion…. and one of the reasons I try not to touch upon it…

Peace to you all, whatever you believe. You have free will to believe what you want, and I have the acceptance to let you get on with it… and even discuss it with me.

I’m open to everything… but until then, I’m staying a non believer who accepts there might be a God, but doesn’t believe there is.

Anyway, to finish…. to cleanse your palette… this video from ‘College Humour‘…. and Religious Nerds!!!

When Films Collide…

Now and then I dip my toes into various Mornington Crescent games (don’t ask, I can’t tell you…but I can say I am a Black Belt nth Dan at the reverse Saint Johns Wood twist).

One of the games was a play on words – when films collide…

Some of it may be a bit on the blue side – so don’t read it unless it’s past 9pm…..


Wargames 2001

David Lightman looked at the screen….a few simple keystrokes and he was in. What was this though?

David realised that he had only a few hours to undo what he thought was going to be a sneak preview of an upcoming computer game…but now he was head to head with the U.S. Air Force’s WOPR computer system….one false entry and it would trigger a countdown to World War III.

Jennifer looked on in disbelief as Lightman’s 1980’s sound card blurped into life….

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Dave?”


Titanic – The Revenge

Standing on the bow of the vessel, Rose DeWitt Bukater stretched her arms out to her sides whilst the handsome young Jack Dawson held his new love firmly around the waist. The sea air was fresh and the sound of the gulls was momentarily drowned out by the noise of the waves crashing on the side of the craft…..

Rose suddenly swung her arm around and pointed with vigor to the forward port side of the vessel to where the gulls were gathering over the freshly laid chum…

“THERE IT IS JACK!” Rose screamed over the growing oceanic cacophony…

“I SEE IT ROSE!” cried out Jack, and then under his breath he muttered to himself…“I think we’re going to need a bigger boat…….”

da dum….da dum….da dum da dum da dum da dum da BADA DAAAAAA!!!


Being Papa Smurf

In the low ceilinged Manhattan building of Lestercorp, puppeteer Craig Schwartz and Maxine Lund were walking, bent double, to a small out of the way office.

Craig spoke softly to Maxine, as if speaking these words any louder would make them sound madder than they actually were…“There’s a tiny door in that empty office. It’s a portal, Maxine. It takes you inside another person. You see the world through that person’s eyes, then, after about fifteen minutes, you’re spit out into a ditch on the side of The New Jersey Turnpike.”

Maxine smiled at Craig “Sounds delightful. Who the fuck is this person?”

“He’s famous. One of the most well known characters of the 20th century.”

“What’s he done?”

“Lots of things. He’s very well respected. Musical albums and a T.V series, for example. The point is that this is a very odd thing, supernatural, for lack of a better word. It raises all sorts of philosophical questions about the nature of self, about the existence of the soul. Am I me? or is this person me? Was the Buddha right, is duality an illusion? Do you see what a can of worms this portal is? I don’t think I can go on living my life as I have lived it. There’s only one thing to do. Let’s get married right away.”

“I think I should see this portal first…then we’ll talk…”

They entered the office and moved a heavy filing cabinet to one side, revealing a hole in the wall, as Craig had said.

“Please,” He started “look for yourself!”

Maxine was already through the hole in the wall, and within moments she was seeing things through anothers eyes….first there were trees…lots of very tall trees…a cottage….it looked closer than it really was, because as she walked up to the cottage she realised that it was huge….and those trees were not that all in comparison…she was short…

From inside the cottage came a gravel like voice…a wretched hunch back of a voice…and then a scatching at the door she was stood outside of…

The voice spoke to the source of the scratched door….“What can you smell? What is it…do you want to go out..?” The voice paused as a hissing yeowl of a cat startled Maxine, then the voice came again…“…Can you smell him? Can you Azrael? Surely we’re not lucky enough that Papa Smurf has ventured up here – within our grasp!!!” cackled Gargamel.


Chitty Chitty A-Team

Lieutenant Templeton “Face” Peck walked over to Sergeant Bosco “B.A.” Baracus…

“B.A…What is it you are actually making out of this fine 1921 Paragon Panther?”

“Fool…just git outa my face, Face.”

“Leave him alone,” muttered Colonel John “Hannibal” Smith “He’s working on an idea that Murdoch came up with…”

“Heh, heh…that mad fool might be on to something…” sniggered B.A.

Face walked over to Murdoch and the Berriwillock (Meaning of Liff) of the Team, Frankie “Dishpan” Santana. If Murdoch had a good idea, then it must be a crazy one that kinda made sense….he head to find out.

“Hey Murdoch…What on earth is B.A doing with that old race car?”

“Hey Face Man…it’s just an idea I came up with…you know…like he hates getting in any damned ‘plane, but it really is the fastest way for us to get around…”

“Hi” said Dishpan, you might not rememb…

“So, what is this idea Murdoch?….What could you come up with that could get B.A so excited?” asked Face, looking at himself in a piece of tin plate he’d found in the garage.

“Well Face Man, B.A ain’t never getting on no ‘plane, and we feel that drugging him in the same way each time we need to fly is getting tedious….and it makes B.A look like a mad fool for falling for it…”


Hannibal interjected “Relax B.A, it is true after all. Please continue Murdoch.”

“Well…he always says he ain’t geting on no plane…so I came up with this idea…”

“That’s a car though Murdoch” mentioned Face, “That’s not a plane…”

“I know…and he’s never said he ain’t never getting in no car. He has also never said anything about being IN the plane itself…just the getting in bit makes him mad….”

“YOU MAD FOOL…Heh…you had a good idea this time though…I’m still gonna kick yo ass though…”

“QUICK…To the 1921 Paragon Panther racing car….DECKER’S coming!” ordered Hannibal.

The A-Team jumped into the car as B.A fired the engine into life. Decker’s men burst in through the doors either side of the building, failing to do the obvious and put a gaurd on the waffer thin hangar doors to the front.

With the engine howling, B.A threw the car into gear and shot off forward through the waffer thin doors…

“Bugger” said Decker “Who’d have thought that!?”

As the car sped out of the building, B.A pulled on a lever on the side. Slowly red and orange material appeared from the sides of the car in a sweeping arc, gradually becoming tighter as a delta shaped appeared. The car eased away from the ground and took to the air, leaving Decker nothing to do but shoot wildly at the departing A-Team, missing the slow flying car with every fully trained military career mans shot…

“It ain’t no plane when I get in..Heh heh” Laughed B.A “You may be a fool Murdoch, but this idea really takes off!!!”

Down below, ignored by everyone, a lone voice screamed upwards…”Guys…what about me?…Dishpan…the fifth member!..series five?..guys…..GUYS!!!!”

“Good thinking Murdoch,” commented Face…”this is just the thing we need to help free those kids from the evil Baron Bomburst and his Child Catcher”

Smiling, Colonel Smith stammered out a well honed phrase through his cigar….

“I love it when a ‘plane comes together….


Snow White and the Taxi Driver

The jealous queen’s attempts to get rid of her beautiful step-daughter had taken a step further forward. The poison apple should have worked by now! There could be no way that Snow White was still ‘alive’!

She happily imagined the dwarfs, all seven of them, mourning the loss of their house guest! Yes…now no-one could stand in her way….she must be the fairest woman alive!

The wicked queen walked over to the all seeing mirror, and asked once more the question she was so sure of…

…”Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, now, who is the fairest of us all?”

The mirror shimmered into life, the mists cleared and its all knowing face appeared…After a moments pause, a blink, and a glance around the room, the mirror responded….

” You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? Then who the hell else are you talkin’ to? You talkin’ to me? Well, I’m the only one here. Who do the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”


From Dusk til Zulu Dawn

Seth Gecko looked over the occupants of the ‘Titty Twister’…this looked like a good place to rest up for a while whilst they were waiting for their ride. The Fullers had been ‘good enough’ to drive them this far, but Seth wasn’t letting them go just yet.

Across the table tops came a leggy dancer, introduced as ‘Santanico Pandemonium’. She started to sway in a seductive manner…this was starting to look good. A table of what could only be described as ‘True Brits’ sat across the room, trying hard not to look at the degrading dance. By all that was British, this wasn’t what they were used to.

In a flash everything turned to Hell…the once plain ugly and aggressive clientele had turned to ugly and aggressive clientele with blood sucking tendencies…this was going to be a blood bath…

Seth and the Fullers were one side of the bar, fighting and mowing down these evil Hell spawn. Using every weapon at their disposal. Blood flowed freely as the onslaught continued. Several times it looked as though it was all over, and that the Texan bank job they had pulled was all for nothing.

The gun shots died down…the smoke settled…the flow of blood from the un-dead slowed…Seth and the remaining Fullers looked over the room…Seth saw the Brits, still smart in their attire, although slightly dishevelled.

“Hey Limeys” called Seth “There must have been 4,000 of these suckers! I think we got ’em all though, heh! I mean, like, how many did you get?”

Lieutenant Gonville Bromhead shouted back to Seth and proclaimed “Sixty! We dropped at least 60, wouldn’t you say?”

Lt. Josef Adendorff, NNC, spoke out quietly to Bromhead…“That leaves only 3,940.”

“Whatever man!” returned Seth “I think it’s a miracle we’re still a-fuckin-live man!”

“If it’s a miracle, Sir, it’s a short chamber Boxer Henry point 45 calibre miracle” muttered Lt. John Chard.

Colour Sergeant Bourne spoke from under a split corpse “And a bayonet, sir, with some guts behind.”

“I think there’ll be more…we need to make a defence or somit man” said Seth, cleaning off some demon gut from his forehead, “How many men do you Brits have over there on your table?”

Bromhead replied, “Seven officers including surgeon, commissaries and so on, wounded and sick 36, fit for duty 97 and about 40 native levies. Not much of an army for you…as for defences, I don’t think we have the strength or will left to build any…” Bromhead was cut off mid flow,

“I don’t give a damn! And I want this wall nine feet high, firing steps on the inside. Form details to clear away the Vampire bodies, rebuild the south rampart, keep ’em moving! Do you understand?” screamed Chard

“Haven’t you had enough? Both of you! My god, can’t you see it’s all over! Your bloody egos don’t matter anymore. We’re dead!” sobbed Adendorff.


Magic Trainspotting

Begbie turned and asked Sick Boy a simple question…it always started out with a simple f**cking question…

“Did you bring the cards?”

“What?” replied a laid back Sick Boy

“The cards, the last thing I told you was to mind the cards!”

“Well, I’ve not brought them.”

“It’s f**king boring after a while without the cards.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Bit f**king late, like.”

“Why didn’t you bring them?”



Dylan nudged Begbie
“Chill out guys, I’ve got something stashed that just might help.”

“Dylan,” started Bryan, “we don’t have time to indulge in recreational activities…


Brokeback Martian

ET: E.T go home?

Ennis: I’m sorry little guy, we just can’t….

Jack: Yeah, we’ve tried to let you go, but it’s so hard….

Ennis: We wish we knew how to quit you…


Jamie and the magic….. torch….

Jamie! Jamie!
Jamie and the Magic Torch.
Down the helter skelter, faster and faster
towards Cuckoo Land.

Wordsworth! Wordsworth!
Following hard behind.
Ready for adventure, always there to lend a paw
…or hand!

Mr Boo and all the others too,
the strangest people you’ve ever seen.
And the torch with it’s magical beam –
If I hadn’t really been there
I’d think that I was dreaming!

Jamie! Jamie!
No two nights are the same.
And life is one long glorious game
with Jamie.
Jamie and the Magic Torch!
[Yeah! Switch On!]



Yes….The force is strong in this one my Lord Vader…


Black Hamlet

Hamlet took the skull into his hand, looked upon it and spoke…

“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? Quite chapfall’n? Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh at that!”

“Erm…excuse me, my liege…” a voice!!! “I think you’ll find that the skull that you hold is not of the person you think it to be…”

Hamlet was taken aback…
“Who are you, you vile wretch of a …a…man?

The bundled lump of rags returned the question with the truth…an answer…
“I am a lowly turnip farmer’s son my master, my leige, beg, grovel…and that skull is my father….a man from a long line of servants….but honourable all the same…a leading light to the family of Baldrick….”

“Oh….” Said Hamlet, “My bad.”


The Italian Death Star

I don’t care if it was a bloody moon or not…you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off…


…..Okay…. that’s your lot!

Why Men don’t write advice columns

I was sent this by a good friend of mine and I had to share it! Many thanks Irosh Peiris!

Why Men Don’t Write Advice Columns

Walter’s Agony Column.

Dear Walter,

I  hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual.  I hadn’t driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt.  I walked back home to get my husband’s help. When I got home I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbours daughter.  I’m 41, my husband is 44, and the neighbours daughter is 22.

We have been married for ten years. When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I would leave him.  He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless. I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly distant.  He won’t go to counselling and I’m afraid I can’t get through to him any more.

Can you please help?



Dear Sheila,

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused  by a variety of faults with the engine.  Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it is clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires.  If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could  be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.

I hope this helps,

The guy upstairs is having a laugh….

What’s white and sits in our kitchen and keeps the house warm?

If you said “Your boiler” you’d be wrong today….

Bugger it.

Yes, something you don’t want to go wrong at the best of times has gone wrong… right when we are financially razor edged….and the temperature outdoors is sub zero.

Now this can only prove the existence of a higher being, as explaining this as simple coincidence really doesn’t cut the grade….

…it also suggests that the higher being has a malevolent sense of humour….

I would pray for help, but I really don’t want to draw any more attention to myself whilst that higher being is in this frame of mind…

Luckily though, my diagnosis is a faulty thermocouple – and that is a cheap and easy fix. Gas boilers are very simple things – but so is a gun or a knife – so no matter how simple it is, you need to remember that one wrong move could kill you – and the family. As such, I will buy a thermocouple in and get my registered friend to check it over.

Now I have typed that out loud I can almost guarantee that I will need a complete new boiler and central heating system……

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