There's game afoot, and it seems to be a game of Rectal Magnitude, so I shall call it "Arseholes".
I've been watching all these fuckers for years, and after 8 Cans of Spesh, some peoples arseholes seem to become detached completely and stagger around on their own, dribbling shit, starting fights with each other, and getting arrested.
(Some people just never get the hang of sphincter control)
Some of those arseholes wandering about out there aren't even drunk, they're just strays that have learned to put on suits, (or more specifically, Uniforms) and detract attention from themselves, by rounding up as many other, more obvious arseholes as they can, to make examples of. They call all the other arseholes a special name, "Suspects", and these poor unfortunates are then hauled in front of a bunch of even bigger arseholes, for more shit dribbling, where they are given other names, like "The Defendant", or "The Perpetrator", and they like to see how many times each particular arsehole, has been caught, being an arsehole, by the other arseholes.
Now, with all these arseholes sat around calling each other arseholes, things can get very confused. So ones who can fart the loudest, dribble or even spray the most shit, and get it to stick to the other arseholes, often wear silly Wigs, and black robes, and when they fart, all the other arseholes have to shut up, and listen, and stand there, nodding in agreement, whilst getting sprayed down with whatever shit is coming at them. No-one can beat these fat rectal behemoths for sheer volume of effluent, and therefore, no-one is allowed mention the fact that they too, are just a bigger type of arsehole.
(They prefer the term "Beak" for some reason)
Then there are whole other packs of little arseholes who run around, licking each other, pretending to be on "The Defendant" arseholes team, and another lot, who are supposed to be on the Uniformed arseholes team, and they dribble and spray shit at each other, then lick the shit from their respective team players, and kiss whoever is cleanest, for a certain specified time, and then, whoever has the most shit stuck to them when the Beak arsehole says to stop, is deemed to have lost the game.
Then, the original, drunken arseholes, or "Defendants" are either given another special title, and called "Convicts", and they have to suck up some shit from the Beak, and from the Uniformed arseholes, (the amount of which varies, depending on how big an arsehole the opposing team have managed to make him out to be) They then have to suck shit up, by going to live with a whole load of other "Convicts" for a while, and get called "Prisoners", or they have money taken off them by the Uniformed arseholes. (This is only if their team loses)
If the original arsehole's team wins, then they get to go home, clean up, and everyone forgets that they were arseholes, Until the next time they decide to play.
I's a very complex game, but the complexity is actually just a disguise, to hide the fact that so many arseholes are out there, teaming up, kissing each other, and spraying huge volumes of shit all over the rest of us, who then have to look for the nearest convenient arsehole to blame.
It's fascinating, predictable, and all non-participants are covertly taking a very close interest in what's happening, because they could get dragged into the game themselves at any point. The best way to avoid it, is to just keep your head down, and pretend you can't even smell the shit you have to wade through every day.
If you can't ignore it, act like the shit is really lovely chocolate cake, and
pretend it's the bestest smell in the world. Then, as you try to sleep at night, try to figure out who the biggest arsehole really is.
It can be quite a surprise.
True dat! :lulz:
(http://files.myopera.com/molokero/albums/2421511/OgAAAOfGPYiQmMcJtltxueHbgtLtHWlH3gmIFAOHfCOYU9odOJBP2rfnHiHiKj2ZRyvU3sUZ7mXb6rdDkGkuqGQwYmEAm1T1UHcd1Gh13jgykRdD3EF0F5rw7KnA.jpg)
Isn't that Judge Sphincterus Dentata? (Or just plain "Stinkhole" to his Colleagues)
My Therapist was always banging on about him, like he was some sort of misunderstood Mummy's boy. Looks more like a rancid, cat raeping wrongcock to me, but then again, I'm not a clever dicky Psychologist like he was.
(http://i748.photobucket.com/albums/xx128/ChuckFukmuk/Infographics/167555_496958971575_720851575_6714194_541772_n.jpg)
I went looking for RWHN's seal of approval but got sidetracked when I found this!
:fap2:
He just directed me to A KlOkwErk KaoS's Youtube videos, and now I have to wring the horrible black slurry out of my brain.
Quote from: BadBeast on April 29, 2011, 05:09:33 PM
He just directed me to A KlOkwErk KaoS's Youtube videos, and now I have to wring the horrible black slurry out of my brain.
:lulz:
He looked like a long haired Garden Gnome in a Trenchcoat made from red cellophane, and his voice sounded like an old Latvian man trying to force a terminally impacted colon full of rock hard stoolage out through a puckered up rectum that hasn't passed anything thicker than a dribble of gravy, in the last 6 months.
BadBeast. Missed the last Music Journalist Bus, hence the pent up bitterness at not getting paid to tear talentless sock-chuckers like this into little chunks, and feed them to passing Carrion birds.
:mittens:!
If it had been anybody else's channel, I'd say I was over reacting. But in light of what I heard, I think I may have been more forgiving than necessary. It's utter shite.