I don't trust the fish.....

So, I'm aware it's been a while since I last posted, but I was planning on spending a fortnight away from the tinterwebs (other than checking up on movie and other geeky news) due to this sports day shambles we are currently enduring, and then write a nice big rant on that when it was all over, which I'm still planning on, but this morning my hand was forced by my own curiosity mainly.

I got up just after 9 this morning, made a coffee while the better half made me fag and then had a glance at my Facebook news feed whereupon I spotted one of my friends had commented on a photo asking whether or not Scots would be voting for independence. "This should be worth a giggle or two" I thought to myself, so I check out the comments, my first mistake. I quickly realised that, as usual, you have the obligatory pubescent boys quoting one word from that absolute clusterfuck of a "historical" movie starring Mel Gibson, which is an American funded movie, with an Australian lead playing a Scottish hero. I can't be the only one who sees the irony in every nationalist having quoted this movie at some point, christ, even I did when I was younger and hadn't researched the true cost of Independence for Scotland and hatched a plan to drunkenly march into Berwick-Upon-Tweed with a clan of kilted and face painted friends to reclaim it for Scotland.

My second mistake came when I stupidly clicked the view previous comments button at  which point I was affronted with one statement which drove me to turn the PC on and write this, and the statement read along the lines of "If you vote no to independence you're not Scottish"

Oh, you stupid stupid person, now you're open for a slating you will probably never ever see, but it will make me feel better to get it of my chest.

So according to this knuckle dragging nationalist, if I vote against the inevitable introduction of the Euro as our currency, and in favour of the money in my pocket (which is still one of the strongest currencies on the planet) I'm not Scottish? Wrong sir! Look back at Greece and a little forward to Spain, and ask them how the Euro has helped them then come back to me with your apology.

Now that I've started I'd like to bust a few myths, firstly, no matter how much shortbread or whiskey we produce, no matter how many tourists we can pull in, because lets face it, they are probably our three biggest money spinners in this country, we would have to face MANY generations of financial austerity before we could call ourselves a financially viable independent country.

Secondly, the "we have the UK's Oil!" argument.... if anyone thinks BP or whichever company it is that holds the drilling rights to the oil in the North Sea will be handing any money over to Scotland for oil drilled in International water, you are sorely mistaken. At the moment under the union we receive a subsidy for any oil lifted from the sea bed, which will stop if the SNP get their way, and all the money will go to Westminster, so that's that argument fucked right out the window, isn't it?

Third, the SNP themselves. Has everyone forgotten all the past trouble caused under the banner of Nationalism across the world? Lets start with the BNP shall we? A party that lives and breathes hatred for anyone who doesn't fit into their skewed view of what's British, do you not think they'd turn on us Scots the minute we sever ties with the Union? Maybe not the current generation, but the generations born after the referendum will be fair game in their eyes. My problem doesn't really lie with the BNP though, so much as it is with the leader of the SNP taking educational policies straight out of Mein Kampf! Alex Salmond recently announced a plan to change Scotland's History lessons to omit  anything to do with the union  and only teach Scottish history, which was last attempted 70 years ago by a Mr A. Hitler, and we all know how that ended up don't we?

Although after ranting about all this I've come to realize with Mr Salmond's  previous track record, he will promise all of Scotland independence, then only take it as far as St. Andrews Square before giving up and expecting us all to forgive him and forget about it, but if he does succeed in his master (race?) plan I will be taking my family and moving them 15 miles down the road and over the border into England, where I'll still be proud to call myself Scottish because I'll still be smiling after losing at something :D

Rain or Whine

The last 2 days have given me a bit to get all pissy about, and I'd better put the worst offenders here before I burst a fucking blood vessel or something...

Firstly, Teenagers, again, not the same ones this time though. This one is a solitary little fuckwit who I spotted on a rage filled stroll through town, which I'm going to elaborate on a little later. Anyways back to this poor sap, who, although was in a crowd of 4 or 5, which, is usually just enough to get my old-man portion of my brain want to stand there shaking my fist at "them young un's" who are "up to no good, no doubt" (which while at almost 29 and a half I'm aware how ridiculous this sounds, but I was one of those young un's up to no good once and am equally aware of how I could go from innocence to being a fucking idiot faster than Madonna's career can go down the shitter), he managed to single himself out as if begging for me to write something offensive and one sided about him on the tinterwebs, I hope he's not mentally ill or this will be quite bad..... The little hipster prick was wearing sunglasses! How dare he? I'm fully aware you're probably used to looking at life through the Instagram preview screen, but that doesn't mean you should try to apply "filters" to everything.

For people who don't live in the UK, and are thinking "But it's summer!", me and the rest of the country had a meeting as to how to properly respond to that, and we felt the only genuine reply is FUCK YOU! You see, my foreign friends, this year, we had a week of moderately hot weather in late spring and since then the various regions have taken it in turn to take part in what I can only describe as a very soggy bukakke. (I had to google the spelling of that last word, don't recommend it) It had been raining pretty solidly all day, admittedly though, we had glimpsed that fire demon hovering above us that we've all become kind of weary of a few times, but there's no excusing ridiculously unnecessary apparel. I'm in no way sorry to admit a little bit of me was hoping to hear of a teenager hit by a black car he couldn't see because of his sunglasses the next morning when I woke up and watched the news.

Anyway, earlier I mentioned about a rage filled stroll that was briefly broken up by hipster kid and the main reason for my annoyance appeared to me like a vision through my rain soaked vision (okay, the fiance pointed it out) but the moment I saw it I almost shit a pack of rabid badgers, and here's the reason behind it...

OH REALLY? try fucking praying indeed, seriously, I know of your church, I know of other churches, and what goes on inside them and I wouldn't mind if you said that to me if I was inside one of those "establishments" seeking your services but I don't want it on my street offending my vision. Mainly because I find it very presumptuous for the sign/banner thingy to automatically assume I haven't already tried that at some point, and believe me I have for various reasons, on various occasions and I'm pretty certain everyone has said a silent prayer to whatever deity they think has the best chance of hearing them. On a lesser level this, thing, offends me just for the timing of it's placement. It's our little town's festival week kind of thing, and this monstrosity of organized fear has appeared just in time to catch all the people who might be in need of god but hadn't notcied THE GIANT FUCKING CHURCH SPIRE hidden really well behind the sign. I mean shouldn't the church have this up all year round instead of gifting it to those people one week a year? If I've offended any Christians, it's okay, they've got to forgive me :)

Then again, thinking about it now, I could be taking it all out of context, it could just be a warning to anyone unfamiliar with our towns excellent public transport schedule wanting to catch a bus out of here.

Okay, it's late, and tomorrow is a HUUUUGE day for me. A fire will rise, and if there are too many kids all hopped up on sweets and fizzy drinks when I'm watching The Dark Knight Rises the cinema will regret not having got rid of the flippy up seats while some poor usher is picking a "young 'uns" brains off a seat. Get that stickyness out of the carpet....

The Invincible Iron Moan

So, it's roughly 11pm and I've had an alright day, other than having to tend with 3 teenagers wandering in and out of my house disturbing my peace in a way that only a giant girly whirlwind of obnoxiousness, and even a troubleshooting exercise with a mates broadband hasn't really managed to annoy me too much. Don't get me wrong, I've felt my blood rise at least a few times today, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this, but no poor bastard actually suffered my fiery wrath.

The observant among you may have noticed that the pic over there <<< is none other that Gwyneth "I can't believe it's not child abuse to name your kids that" Paltrow, and yes, there is a point to me having a picture of that cow up here, and I'll get to it soon, that bitch will keep.....

Firstly though, I'd like to start off my first moaning session, I mean Blog, on slightly more dangerous ground, I mean it would be no fun if I didn't dangle my nuts over the barrel filled with piranhas before shooting a retarded one like ol' Gwyneth, would it?

So, I have an altogether amazing Fiance, but every once in a while, she sets out to pick arguments with anything from inanimate objects to the ones who love her just because, well, um..... the only explanation I can find is best said by this man...

But then again I suppose I would go a bit nuts too once a month if I had to put up with my shit, I'll stop making my shiv....

Anyways, now I'm probably going to get my testicles turned into something that vaguely resemble testicles but look a lot more like raw burgers, I'd better get on to Gwyneth "I actually downgraded from Ben Affleck" Paltrow.

So I was looking through my facebook feed this afternoon when I saw something that I had a feeling was coming after reading Invincible Iron Man #10...

 FUCK YOU BITCH, NO!!!!!!! I've never been happy with you even being cast in this fucking role in my opinion it should have went straight to this woman, no matter how much she demanded in payment for it, even if that payment was the ending to the movie Se7en....

Fuck it,  after staring at that picture for slightly too long I've come to the conclusion she'd probably take the role if that happened..... Someone  get me on a plane and point my to the nearest B&Q so I can get me a damn hacksaw.

Hullo!

Welcome to my new blog, a place where I am going to vent (frequently) at the world at large about the many many things that wind me up, get my goat, grind my gears etc. etc. and sometimes give an insight to the things that make me happy to anyone who cares to listen.

As a word of warning to anyone with sensitive eyes, THIS BLOG WILL CONTAIN FOUL LANGUAGE mainly because I'm Scottish, and we use the word Cunt as a full stop, and also because if something offends me I find the best way to express myself is loudly and with as many expletives as possible.

The ranting could cover any number of subjects, but here a few examples of things that get on my man tits:

Michael Bay and his hard on for large explosions and destroying yet another one of my beloved childhood cartoons (I'll elaborate more on this later, more than once, until I actually see the finished product for myself)

People, as in the world at large, from mouth breathers to that one fucker who walks along any given high street in any given town with the sole purpose of PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF!!!, I mean c'mon, when I go somewhere, I go with purpose, an agenda and if for any reason I find myself needing to stop, I don't do it right in the fucking middle of the pavement due to common courtesy and neither should any fucker else.

Newsreaders, mainly the ones who are too animated, if you feel you have to physically point your finger at the camera, and by proxy me, at 0730 in the morning, you had better be prepared for the possibility of me leaping out from somewhere the next day on your commute to work and snapping the fucker right off at the knuckle before inserting somewhere rather uncomfortable, and no, not the back of a Volkswagen....

Anyhow, I'm off to be irritated, I'll be back and angry soon.