Friday, 8 July 2011

The Plight of Politics

As it stands, 80% of my demographic don't care about politics or political issues. The majority of the other 20% claim to, but are too stupid to be able to say anything meaningful. Even if ignorance is bliss when being screwed over by the coalition (or any government for that matter), you're still getting fucked.

There isn't very much to be interested in british politics though. You have the choice between a charmless wanker that went to Eton, and, ehhh... a charmless wanker with a lisp that sounds like he is retarded. Some say that choice is overrated, but in the case of politics we need more choice, well... choice, we can worry about getting more of it at a later date.

I don't understand how this incompetent government of ours can even keep the country stable. The only plausible theory that explains the (relatively) functional nature of the country is that we are run by a secret coalition consisting of:

The Bilderberg Group (20%)
Rupert Murdoch (15%)
Carlos Slim (25%)
Steve Jobs (10%)
China (10%)
Gordon Gekko from Wall Street (20%)

My vivid imagination tells me that a board meeting would go something like this:

The Bilderberg Group: We want more power! AAHHH! WORLD DOMINATION!!
Steve Jobs: The new iPad has an app for that.
The Bilderberg Group: Fuck your shitty iPad. It doesn't even work with my laptop. Chinese piece of shit!
China: Hey, you watch it buddy, now who ordered the spare ribs?
Carlos Slim: Me!
China: £10 Prease!
Carlos Slim: [Accidentally Takes out Nectar Card] Shit, wrong card, you take Visa?
China: Dude, your worth like 80 Billion. You have a fucking nectar card?
Carlos Slim: Every little helps!
Gordon Gekko: No it doesn't. This country is failing. You aren't naive enough to think we live in a democracy?! GREED IS GOOD!
Carlos Slim: Screw you banker scum!
Rupert Murdoch: [Sounding like the Emperor from Star Wars] Can't we just get along and take all of Britain's money?


The point is... ehh, well, I forgot what the point was about halfway through pretending to be Gordon Gekko. Goodnight Seattle.

Saturday, 2 July 2011

Yeah, i iz laik, bare middle classs bruv...

Drivin' down da street in ma pimped out volvo, bruv, i got ma swagga on yeahhh, laik....

Have you ever come across people talking like that? I sure as hell have, and I just want to slap them. What would compel any sane person to abandon their hereditary idiom to use a bunch of made-up words and talk with the grammatical accuracy of an illegal immigrant? (That really isn't a rhetorical question, if you know why please enlighten me)

Do they think it makes them cool? If that's the case then they are sorely mistaken. But I think there is something more sinister going on. My peer group seem to feel that there is something uptight about being cultured, intelligent... and being grammatically and semantically correct. This is partly due to wise and clever people being portrayed as weird nerds in the media, but this is merely a consequence of an underlying cause that also manifests itself in other ways.

That cause is jealousy, more specifically the jealousy that stupid people feel toward intelligent people. Stupid people would not have much of a say in a world where ones social standing is determined by ones intelligence and intellectual prowess, so they have done their best to promote that misconception that clever people are weird and socially inept so that the general population will look past their cognitive shortcomings.

Smart move, stupid people. 

It goes without saying that stupid people will eventually cause the downfall of human civilization. 

Anywayz, I iz going to chill with ma frenzz coz i love dem sooo much.

Friday, 1 July 2011

Sweeney Todd

I'm playing in the orchestra for the NYMT's production of Sweeney Todd. We are playing some excerpts tonight, and the first full performance is Thursday the 14 of June. But enough of me publicizing my stupid mundane life (The blog has four followers by the way! Four followers! Another nine and I'll be Jesus). It's time for some flippant discourse.

OK. Seeing as I can't think of anything to flippantly discuss, I'm going to talk about writers block. Ehhhhm. Yeah. OK. Nothing to say about that either. Just that it's crap. 

Well, that's all I can really say right now. Totally uninspired. Have a nice day, disciples!

Wednesday, 29 June 2011


I should have chosen a different name, because typing "You Just Don't Understand Me" into google, I can't find my blog. Apparently, so I am told, the phrase "You just don't understand me" is extremely popular with stroppy teenagers that have bad skin and shitty taste in music. And TV. And words, actually. The amount of stupid "sentimental" status updates that show up on my facebook news feed blows my extraordinarily narrow mind. The interweb is full of people posting things like "When the sun sets, I think of you, because you are the horizon of my mind, and I will always be in your heart, and you in mine, like two pandas separated by a road in rural China <3". Taste in words is a remarkably important quality. A quality lacking in the aforementioned stroppy teenager demographic, and also in readers of the Sun (even though they do have some pretty funny headlines, like "George Michael Shunts Trucker Up Rear")

I digress.

I was originally intending to rant about bloody teenagers. And now I will. Teenagers always seem to be going to hell in a handcart, admittedly a rather large, sturdy handcart (anything else wouldn't be possible with today's teen obesity rate), but a handcart nonetheless. They can never just calm the fuck down. No, instead they have to bitch about each other. Incessantly. To me. But they never make do on any of their threats. Because the vast majority of teenagers are two faced bastards. The lot of 'em. They should all be shot. Okay, maybe that's going to far, but they should just shut the fuck up. Okay.

That's all I can think of now, but there's got to be more. To be continued....

Woo! I've got a bitchin' blog!

Why should I be blogging you say? 

Well, you know, express my self, and stuff, ehh... and shit. Yeah, that's all I really have so far, you know, just that, and well, stuff. Yeah. It always comes down to stuff. There's too much stuff. I'm not being austere or anything, not at all, there's just too much fucking stuff. People say it comes in handy. 

"Why is that burnt out bulb in the drawer?"

"Oh, it might come in handy, you know, in case we ever need someone to think they have a working lightbulb, but it's actually broken."

"Why would we need to do that?"

"Ehhh... you know stuff. Oh yeah, and terrorists. Yeah. Terrorists."

No, it won't fucking come in handy, you're just to god damn lazy to deal with it. 

Anyway. My point is, stuff never comes in handy, and we have way to much of it. Yeah... and shit....