Bees - Germanic efficiency twinned with French common sense

Now I quite like bees but that doesn't stop them being inherently guff. Their stupidity is such that if they were put through the UK education system they would probably only emerge with a handful of 'A' Levels. Posessors of perhaps the most ludicrous defense mechanism ever, these hapless insects can only utilise it by killing themselves. It would be like a man shooting himself in the head to inflict a fleshwound to the enemy, but this is neither the time or place to discuss the US military.

Also noteworthy are those really furry bees that seem to fly in a completely random manner and look distinctly uncomfortable, just to die unceremoniously every winter despite their mini fur coats.

A retarded bee, yesterday

stupid cliched phrases people use that make me want to gouge their eyes out with a turd-encrusted spoon part deux

"A problem shared is a problem halved"

No it isn't, it's a problem doubled. I don't care about your stupid inconsequential bullshit so please feel free to not tell me anything at all. This is my disinterested face :o|

"What goes around, comes around"

This is what people say when they forget about the word 'Karma'. And, for the record, it doesn't. It suggests that we're all sitting on a glittering karmic conveyor belt, where our good and bad deeds are rewarded appropriately. But the truth is that when you act like a complete git some other poor sap invariably gets your punishment. This can be in the form of parking tickets, theft or just plain bad luck. Not a day goes by when a benefit cheat is caught and has to pay back but a fraction of what they have robbed. Those rioters are sitting pretty on 10-foot high piles of flatscreen TVs and enjoying their ill-deserved benefits while other people cannot afford to pay the rent. Crime DOES pay, and very handsomely indeed.

"Pride comes before a fall"

Why? What a pessimistic saying. And if even I recognise it as pessimistic, it is. This probably stems from some joyless religion or another, where the very notion of actually enjoying your fleeting existence is frowned upon. This is just one of the many reasons why religion is the worst thing to ever happen to the human race.
"Love thy neighbour"

Neighbours are twats. They have the audacity to live next door to you and cook smelly food and if you listen carefully, you can hear them having a dump. I find a pint glass projects the sound the best through walls. Plus, they have security on their router so what's the point in them even being there. I wish DEATH on my neighbours (provided it's not by fire, otherwise they would take me (and, more importantly, my Transformers) with them.

"You can't have your cake and eat it"

Yes I can. I can purchase (or indeed make) a cake and then I can eat it. Otherwise, what would be the purpose of  having a cake. To entice obese people into a trap of some sort or trapdoor whereby they fall straight into a mincing machine? Don't be absurd.

"What goes up, must come down"

This rule obviously does not apply to petrol prices and national debt.

Beyonce is a sexist pig

Who runs the world? Girls. Who runs the world? Girls. Who runs the world? Girls. Who runs the world? Girls. Other songwriters may as well forget an Ivor Novello nomination this year, seeing as Beyonce's songwriting team will surely clean up with yet another brilliant and thought-provoking hit. Most of Beyonce's songs seem to be about men doing her wrong, or how great girls are and that they are the best and all that. I find it confusing that what is unfortunately the modern world's closest representation of a feminist icon should spend her entire career singing about men. She should try singing about something else for once, as there are actually other things that exist. Sewing and Flowers, to name but two.

It's a fact of modern living that the male of the species is considered fair game for sexist treatment; with adverts depicting men as barely-functioning buffoons incapable of tying their own shoelaces, while the women are always smart and sassy and generally balance motherhood and a career with effortless ease. They regard their poor men with a look that is somewhere between frustration and pity, as their man treads mud into the perfectly-vacuumed carpets again! This can be explained by the fact adverts are targeted at consumers, who are nearly all women. Women love spending cash, particularly that which they didn't earn. They are the women who sit in the home that they can't be bothered to clean slowly piling on pound after pound while their gormless spouses work their way into an early (but very welcome) grave. Women who stuff their useless faces with crisps while watching the evil leather-faced harridans of 'Loose Women' run men down even more.

Unfortunately, the truth is a discomforting one for women. Because, last time I checked, men rule the world, which Beyonce will unfortunately realise shortly after she has dropped her first sprog or hit 40 and suddenly people are less than keen to see her flabby belly gyrating all over the screen. Actually, Rich men run the world, whilst their moronic floozies spend their days shopping in terrible boutiques or complaining about 'the help'. 'Help' is such a demeaning way to describe a human - and it's not even accurate, seeing as these people quite often do all the work. 'Help' implies receiving assistance - not farming out the delegation of a task. Next time someone thanks me for 'helping' them, I will give them a karate chop.

Sadly for women, they are only interesting to men for a couple of decades at most, and then bits of them start drooping or falling off altogether and they are quickly ushered behind closed doors, where their jowly visage won't scare any young children. Their days of being promoted to the front of family photos are quickly over as they are instead shoved to the back with the mongoloids and paedophiles. Even their cooking skills become impaired by the onset of old age or rampant alcoholism, as they pickle their tiny little livers with cheap plonk. I have been overtly sexist for a reason, because being sexist towards women is as old-fashioned as Bernard Manning, and is met with outrage and the awful sight of a cross-looking Germaine Greer on Sky News. So why is it so socially acceptable to deride men? Men are alright. Give us a break. We are not all complete morons. We like playing videogames and pizza. And boobs. We like boobs.

This is it - get your shotguns ready.

Although I am usually glad to live in a tolerant and largely democratic society, it is times like this that make me want to welcome Chairman Mao into the UK with open arms. Compare and contrast the dignified protest at Tiananmen square with the greed-fed free-for-all that is currently engulfing large parts of London. I'm sure a squadron of tanks would improve things no end, giant treads popping the brainless heads of the various wastes pf sperm who really are that stupid. I like to call a spade a spade, and therefore when a bunch of mindless thugs decide to descend on already recession-hit high streets and basically smash them up and steal or burn everything in sight I like to refer to them as a bunch of mindless and thieving cunts, as opposed to 'protesters'.

The riots may be the single most exciting thing to ever happen to Croydon, but even that open sewer of a place deserves better to be smashed up in the manner places are being at the moment. I'm sure that as the little shits run out of booze and KFC they will slowly lose energy and will then disappear back into their little rat-infested hovels, not to be heard from again until the next political issue demands their 'attention'. The lie that this entire situation is in any way connected to a death which seems to be fairly routine is particularly galling as a load of thugs are using it as an excuse to basically rob and destroy stuff. As usual, the government are too weak to do anything remotely useful, helmed as they are at the moment by the incompetent public schoolboys brigade. Because of this, I have decided to present my 3-point plan to any politicians who may be reading, because you silly fuckers need to do something.

1) Guns

Yes, GUNS. Guns that shoot massive bullets that splinter into smaller bullets that explode on contact with pock-marked and unwashed flesh. Guns are awesome. Guns would disperse any cunts with a modicum of intelligence, the rest would just stare on blankly as their bodies were departed from their wretched souls at no great loss to humanity.

2) Helicopters

Just because. I love helicopters. Ones with guns and missiles and that on them that look like Airwolf. It would be great to see attack helicopters strafing in and out of piss-soaked alleys, distributing death to the dribbling morons clutching their flatscreen TVs and iPads. Sky Box Office could charge £15 a pop.

3) Transformers

Megatron would fuck all their shit up. And not the terrible Michael Bay Megatron, the original Megatron that looked like a Nazi stormtrooper and turned into a big fucking gun. So basically, my message is to kill all of the little cunts until they get the message and get the fuck in line. It's not like any of them will have any employment prospects so let's kill 2 birds with one stone and save some much-needed cash as well.

I love the summer

In the summer, something magical happens. For around 6 weeks, the population of the UK suddenly drops, as, inversely, the average IQ rises. This strange event happens because a large proportion of the country finally steals or syphons off enough of their kid's dinner money to inflict them and their dreadful offspring on an unsuspecting Greek or Spanish town for a fortnight. It is then the turn of our European cousins to deal with the very worst of us. God help them.

Repugnantly fat and puce-faced, the patriarch of the family (if there is one) spends the entire 2 weeks completely plastered and fighting, as he drags his massive frame from one English pub to the next. His knock-off XXXL Manchester United shirt heaves with the strain as he pours a gigantic fried breakfast down his gargantuan gob, which is at least some relief as when his mouth is not occupied with devouring a pig's worth of food he will be spouting racist expletives at the top of his tar-riddled lungs or threatening to punch his wife or kids in the face.

And speaking of his wife, she spends her time clipping various members of her massive brood round the ear or trying to do her level best to give herself multiple forms of cancer, spending 14 hours in the sun and smoking 100 fags a day, while gorging on biscuits and the kid's sweets. She will have a fake pink Gucci suitcase, which is large enough to fit an oven in; but will in fact contain the most inappropriately skimpy attire for a woman of her girth, and approximately 2000 duty free Lambert & Butler, which will probably do her for a week, seeing as her bloody kids keep dipping in too.

Then there is the leather-faced old hag of a gran, who at the grand old age of 42 will unfurl her depleted bosom as soon as she gets within 200 yards of a swimming pool and flirt mercilessly with the poor waiters who will be swallowing their own sick until she covers up and leaves them the fuck alone. She will be the colour of mahogany, despite blaming all the troubles in the world on brown people. The Irony will escape her though because she doesn't understand anything that she can't have sex with, shout at, or fight.

As for the kids, there are just too many to count. The parents lose count after screaming for Taylor, Carly, Kylie, Wayne and Rory to 'fucking pack it in'. But most of the time they clearly don't give 2 shits what their kids do, as they let them run around the hotel harassing everyone and smashing things up with impunity, until the hotel manager finally intervenes and is beaten senseless for his trouble. If there is a daughter over 13, there is a 50% change that she is pregnant, or will be by the time the holiday ends, as she seeks out the hotel worker with the lowest standards and rapes him.

Despite missing the people who generally make the UK such an unrelentingly depressing toilet to live in, there are upsides to their absences. For one, there are not quite so many idiots clogging up Britain's roads with their awful driving as they ferry their fat little shits into the schools unfortunate enough to have to teach them. The white van count takes a hit too, meaning that travelling on the motorway becomes relatively safe, without wannabe-boy racers thrashing their transits round bends in the fast lane doing 120mph while smoking, demolishing a bacon sandwich and shouting on their mobile. And, best of all, detestable little cuntweasel Jeremy Kyle has to take a break from his show, as there are simply no guests around for him to humiliate. Instead, they show a schedule of repeats which they might as well call 'Britain's stupidest people'.

And then, like, that, they are back. The people all over southern Europe breathe a collective sigh of relief. Why? Because the last of the brits are now back home, safely behind their garishly painted cages and velour tracksuits. The foreigners can now rebuild their shattered, vomit-coated high streets. They can remove the blockages in the drains caused by the consumption of several million fried meals and used condoms. They can scrape the last traces of blood and detritus from their various monuments. And as for us? we're stuck with them for the rest of the miserable year, hoping that next time they go abroad, a referendum is passed and they are not allowed back into the UK.