Mike Sinkovich Tells You How It Is

I Will Prove Women Are Insane

If you walk into any newsagents, supermarket, corner-shop and look at the magazines on offer, you wouldn't be surprised to find yourself staring at several, if not a wall, of pink/yellow coloured glossy mags emblazoned with various phrases such as....

"10 ways to get him to communicate with you"
"5 sure fire ways to get his attention"
"Top Tips that are sure to save your relationship"

...you're looking at the self-perpetuating industry that is female repression which is (ironically) designed, written and consumed by women yet men continually get the blame for every 16 year old anorexic who keels over and dies. Women all over the world are convinced that men can only pop a woodstaff when a chick is so thin her liver stops functioning.....

"Dude she's turning yellow"
"Yeah......god that's so hot"

....I'm going to climb on board the generalisation jet ski and go for a burn here. Men are not sexually complicated. That's why wanking works so well. All we need is visual stimulus (and not much at that) and a repetitive movement. If you're still wondering how to "turn your man on" I got two words for you sweetheart, blow and job. If that doesn't do it, call a cab and a mortician.

If they're not banging on about how their boyfriends don't "communicate" with them, or bitching over you hitting them with a closed fist this time because last time your dinner wasn't on the fucking table when you walked in it was the last warning and this time was the last straw, especially after all the fucking hard work you do all fucking day just to get home to this shit.....
....if it's not that it's how rubbish men are at getting women off. If women are so obsessed with popping the big O then answer me this.

If any woman went up to any guy and offered to suck him off, every one would say yes. Who would turn down a blowjob!? Exactly.
If any guy went up to any girl and offered to go down on them, there's gunna be police involved 9/10 times. And face aids the rest. Fear the FAIDS.

Howcome? Because women are insane. Look at this....

Name: Ted Bundy
Occupation: Serial Killer (Killed 28 women)
Getting Laid?: Yes, granted conjugal visits on death row. Conceived child with wife Carole Boone within first year of sentence

Name: Scott Peterson
Occupation: Convict (Killed his wife and unborn child)
Getting Laid?: Yes, granted conjugal visits. Received marriage proposal within first hour of sentence.

Name: Adolf Hitler
Occupation: Fascist Dictator with a soft spot for Jews (just kidding he murdered over 6 million of them, idiot)
Getting Laid: Okay, well yeah, dead, sure, but he had a girlfriend. So you know he was getting some.

Name: Mike Sinkovich
Occupation: Programmer/Engineer
Getting Laid?: No. I would also like to point out that I have no problem pleasing a lady. I don't want to sound like Lord Lover, but I am, so I do.

Q.E.D bitch.

Non-Student Makes Millions Off Really Stupid Idea

Marketing and commerce critics are calling it a revelation of the advertising age, while others are denouncing it as a passing fad. The cause of all this contention? A disturbingly handsome (almost Face from the A-Team good-looking) and charismatic non-student called Mike Sinkovich who has recently made his first million from his first business venture.

Many have asked where the original concept came from, but only Mr Sinkovich himself could provide the true answer...

"Basically I wanted loads of money so I could kick back, sip some jack and shoot high powered weapons at passing traffic. Taking one of the most cynical views on the state of mankind I began my 'I know you're all dumb cunts' advertising business"

...but how does the business actually work?....

"I began by placing an advert in a local free-ads. I must stress that this was really cheap and makes me a business genius. You writing this down? Yeah?
Okay so I took out the advert inviting people to come stand in a room while I shout out a list of companies at them and because people are so fucking stupid it actually worked. Now I've got loads of money and because people think money is great, they talk about me all the time, which means I get more money? Did I mention you're all pricks and I'm really smart?"

Mr Sinkovich is to attend a Business degree course at his local University in the summer, along with several hundred others who were unable to find anything they were good at.

Many have commented that Mr Sinkovich's obvious contributions to the almost unstoppable machine that is slowly turning every single tangible element of human existence into a corporate dollar sign should justify his exemption from any legal hearing, and that he should simply be shot off the face of the Earth. Others have named him a business legend because he's got bits of paper with big numbers on them, and when it all boils down, that's what really counts.

Outside of any moral or financial debate, however, the entire international community has agreed no-one likes a braggart and that this guy just looks like a smug cunt.

Hey, whaddaya know, I'm an artist too!

Okay time for some general knowledge everyone. Ready?

Your starter for ten:

What do George IV, James II, George Washington, Charles I,  Lord Horatio Viscount Nelson and an armless pregnant woman have in common?

I'm afraid the answer is sweet fuck all. I have more in common with line sniffing, designer shirt-wearing, executive car salesmen than old Slumpy McArmless does with any of the aforementioned historical figures.

Your next starter for ten:

What the fuck is this doing in Trafalgar Square then?

I'm sorry if I seem somewhat slow, but every day I become more and more detached and disillusioned by what the fuck is actually going on in the real world. Is this actually real? Did someone honestly look at this statue and think, 'yeah I reckon that'd really fit the mood of Trafalgar Square'...?
An art gallery, sure, fine, go ahead, do what you want to do. It's not that I find it a particularly objectionable piece of art, it's another inane piece of 'ooh does this shock you?' from some prick who probably has orgies with downs-syndrome children, covered in dog shit because he 'thinks outside the box' and 'doesn't subscribe to societies stereotypes'. He does. He's just a cunt.

Even if we dance the crazy dance of fantastical fantasy and make-believe, over to the land of "what-if" and say that this sculpture wasn't in the most inappropriate place most people could think of, (other than a thalidomide factory, next to a nursery school), the "artist" Marc Quinn who masterminded the whole deal.....and this is the best bit.....didn't even make the fucking statue.

Not only that, he didn't even make any of the statues in the entire show he put on involving some dozen or so pieces. Now, I apologise again if I'm not on the same page here but I always assumed that in order to get the credit for something, you have to have.....oooh I don't know....done it? It may sound a bit old-school but did anyone notice the departure of the age old ethos "credit where credit is due"?

Cue the cries of "yeah but he came up with the concept, that's what counts Mike!" Oh really? I didn't realise that we can label the act of coming up with ideas with the "artist" tag now, well fuck, then I'm an artist too. I've always been amazing at coming up with awesome ideas for pictures, I was just held back by the fact I can't draw, paint or sculpt better than a blind chimp with their hands nailed to their face with burning stakes, but bollocks to that, just pay someone else to do the hard work.

Mark Quim, sorry, Mark Cunt can eat my shit and die. Hows that for a concept fuckers? Is that art? Or do I have to get someone else's shit for Mark to eat?

Get Rich And You Never Need Humility

It seems that when you're rich beyond logical comprehension due to an acting career that could only be compared to that guy you know who plays rugby and thinks every time he gets his ass out at a party it just gets funnier, you are no longer required to laugh at anything other than your own jokes. Or maybe jokes that are about how great you are, which is why, I assume, Johnathan Ross exists....

Ross: "I watched your film and I thought...wow...I was amazed at how good you are, your cock must be massive, I would gladly kill myself on the off-chance that I would come back as you"

Pathetic actor: " Hahahahahaahahahaha you're so funny but yes"

....even Barry Norman couldn't suck more celebrity cock than that drooling dolt, happily slurping up every drop of bodily fluid from anyone who comes on his depressing show, which unconvincingly masquerades as a giant excuse for old floppy haired-cock-faced Ross to crack out his lame knob gags and rehearsed one-liners that the lobotomised studio audience are prompted to laugh at. Oh and he's got a gay, in-house vocal group, well fuck me if that isn't the funniest thing I've ever seen.

But I digress, as the subject of this particular excuse for literature eludes to, I'm referring to a Mr Tom "I did 'Top Gun' and the it went down hill" Cruise and a water pistol. If you don't know what I'm talking about you can get the whole shocking truth here.

Yes Mr Cruise was deeply offended by being squirted in the face by a faux microphone which doubled as (queue Dynasty esque dramatic music) duhn duhn duhhhhhn....a water pistol. Holy fuck, I mean holy fuckin' jesus shitting in the mouths of a thousand virgins, the horror.
I have three major goddamn problems with this particular "offence"....

a) It's June, and fucking hot, any stream of clean water aimed at my body during such heat is more than appreciated. Am I the only person that had water fights as a kid when it was this hot? Break out the bin-liners, a hose pipe and make an aqua slide down the lawn, gash open your leg on a random flint but thing "fuck it, this is the best fun ever, just stem the blood flow I'll be fine" ?

b) Since when did getting squirted in the face by a water pistol become "assault"? Did everyone just become raving pussies while I was asleep? Has everyone got a fear of water akin to that dude in the November Rain video who dives through a fucking wedding cake just to avoid the rain? I must have missed a memo.

c) Is "you jerk" honestly the best insult Tom can muster.

...Cruise you cock sucking pussy, just because everyone knows you're gay and your recent engagement to a woman almost half your age is actually a farcical dance around the fantasy garden of imaginary land, doesn't mean you get to act like the pompous twat you are because someone assumes you have a sense of humour like everyone else. Get some balls man, it was a squirt of water. Call that assault? Jesus, I'd hate to imagine what you'd think of a Friday night down the local O'Neils (tm), GBH? Attempted murder? No it's called assault, usually recognised by hard bony areas of one persons anatomy colliding suddenly with soft fleshy areas of another, commonly precipitating a random and unwanted flow of blood and girly screaming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Take your American "Sue you" culture of over sensitive, cotton wool padded celebrity preciousness and fuck it up your stink hole Cruise.

Top gun was amazing though.

 

Bob Geldof Is Better Than Everyone, Even Your Mum

If you've got a disgusting amount of money you made from a single song that is only played in pubs once everyone is too inebriated to realise just how fucking shit the one lasting memory of your flash-in-the-pan music career is and start a nation wide riot, then you too can help yourself to a podium.

All you have to do is wake up in your multi-million pound mansion, get in your sweet ride that burns a gallon of fuel every five meters and drive to your soap-box which usually has a TV camera pointed at it, put on a self righteous yet surly expression, like you just got dick-slapped in the face, and shout at me down my TV about how great you are, how crap I am, how great you are, how I personally caused third world debt, how great you are, how you hate the press (despite you calling them every time you have an idea or a wank), how great you are.

Then you finish it off with vomit-inducing contrived footage of emaciated African children, or if you're feeling particularly knob-ish, get a load of third rate celebrities and film them watching the footage, making sure to capture every forced tear of fake compassion, just to show that I don't care about third world countries. Oh and how great you are.

I almost forgot, just to show how much of a maverick you are, and how you only go by your rules, swear profusely at some point. Everyone knows how hard it is to swear, and how sophisticated it makes you look, they will all be impressed.

Okay you're almost there, now all you've got left to do is wait until everyone thinks you've finally died or just realised how much of an asshole you are and fucked off, then turn up on the news with a truly half-baked idea, looking like you spent the last 20 years since the last big thing you did, in a hole with only a goats ass for personal hygiene. Now, you're all set, just maintain the confusion by calling for several million of the population to go to one place and listen to some music to raise more money for the dictators of Afri..... sorry I mean the starving people of Africa. Oh and don't put any African artists on the bill either, it'll make it more relevant to the issue at hand.

Congratulations, you've become the worlds most sanctimonious, self-righteous....

Wow You're So Cool

I'm not impressed by...


- the fact that you own an iPod.

- your mobile phone that plays MP3's, takes photo's and gives you a rough handjob, all at the same time.

- you driving past in a £200 car that has had £500 of work done to it, playing bangra music so loud your back   passengers have shat themselves.

- you driving at 50mph towards a speed bump, braking, driving over it, then accelerating to 50mph to get to the next   one.

- your sports science degree.

- the £100 pair of "anti-fit" jeans you are wearing, all you're telling me is you would buy a dog shit if someone told you it would get you laid.

- your tiny little scooter screaming as you attempt to pass me so I can be awestruck by the power of your faggy little jumped up moped.

- your Argos bling.

- your collection of "comedy" t-shirts stating various facts like "I'm drunk" and "Want a shag?" that you honestly think will one day get you girls.

- how 'ard you think you are.

- no really, I don't care how 'ard you are because if you're convinced physical size as the be all and end all of human existence then answer me this meatbrain, how many sports science "graduates" have bettered the worlds of art, music, science, technology or medicine? Answers on the back of your monthly Beano, retard.

- how many drugs you have taken.

- the expensive car mummy and daddy bought you, that you drive like an asshole.

- the stupid fucking dump valves on the expensive car mummy and daddy bought you, which make it sound like your car has terminal flatulance, pfffffting your way around the hardcore streets of southewest London like you're a ghetto pimp in a caddy. Breaking news flapface, you're not, and that's a Nissan.

Please Don't Think It's Clever To Advertise Your Stupidity

Television used to be a passive medium to me, you could engross yourself in a program, or just have it on in the background while you do something else. I used to enjoy having a music channel on as I did the washing up.

But with the fucking idiots rising up around me like a watery death chamber of sewage, they've finally struck the killing blow to the last piece of happiness I shared with my television, and now I hate it. I hate it for receiving and transmitting this shit into my ears and eyes, it has broken my heart. And all thanks to this man....

....yes this man is responsible for the noise, oh that fucking noise, it makes me want to open cats and punch them.....so hard. I can now safely say that becoming a terrorist and getting captured is that little bit less scary because, white noise? I'm sorry, pussy noise. I can fucking take it tough guy, I could take that shit for years and think it was Bacharachs' greatest hists, but you put that goddamn "Crazy Frog" in my fucking ears one more time I will tell you everything I know then eat my own shit.

It's not "funny", it's not "cool" or eccentric. It's not fucking "crazy" or "wacky" or "off the wall" or whatever pathetic excuse you have for having this thing on your 'phone, no. You're just a fucking idiot with the sense of humour of a two month old, mentally retarded child who has really bad sense of humour. Oh and you're probably a chav.....is that tautology?

"Yeah crazy frog innit, it's like, ya know all my mates say I'm like.....ya know Darren is always like sayin' like I'm totally like mad so I saw like crazy frog and was like yeah that's so me innit. Can you get me ten B&H if give you the money, innit?"

I'm sorry but if I were legally allowed to have a gun.....no wait sorry that's wrong.....if I could get a gun all these assholes would be dead. I'm on a bus and hear your phone start bleeping out this shite? You're dead fucker, and so's the person sat next to you just because they didn't kill you first, that's how much I hate you.

International Geek Typecasting

Yes this is a geeky rant, if you're not into geeky things I suggest you look at the picture at the top of the page. Yes that's me, if this were your page that would be you, and you could write what you wanted. So if you would prefer to discuss the finer points of fashion, or try and pin down just how exactly Sex in the City sooo like your friend Shantell I suggest you drop a phone down your toilet, call it, and listen to yourself shit.

In an attempt to use time without using it on vital things like my dissertation that's due next week, today I spent an impressive two hours trying to get my PC surround sound to work properly. Once my mission was complete I had to try it out, I mean, all that work and no testing? It would be rude, neigh, insane to not spend a further three hours playing some online games. It's what everyone wanted.

Five minutes into some world war two action featuring bowel loosening audio I made four major discoveries.

1) People speaking French at me in 5.1 surround sound makes me angry like nothing else in this world.

2) People whose balls haven't dropped speaking French in whiny pre-pubescent screechy tones at me in 5.1 surround sound causes every muscle in my body to instantly tense to the point where my bones are about to snap, the only cure for which is to beat my mattress with a baseball bat for a clear five minutes.

3) Only the French would let their kids stay home from school and play Day of Defeat all day.*Cough* Shame they didn't have the same dedication when the real shit was going down *cough*.

4) Guns sound fucking cool in 5.1 surround sound.

After figuring out how to stop the annoying, oh sweet jesus how annoying, talking from exiting my speakers and penetrating my soul to the very dark nerve centre and stirring the black, thick evil that I suppress on a daily basis, I began to make some more sweeping generalisations of the geeks of the world and how they react in a team-based virtual war situation.

- French Geeks: When they're not gibbering on in irritatingly smooth vowel sounds they're shooting at you from the smallest little crack in any wall/floor/window, like mice with projectile weapons. While they seem to respond well to general team requests for support or information as to whats going on, they seem to find every kill hilarious, despite the fact that killing/getting killed in a typical game will occur on average 100 times. Every time a bullet rips into a soldier it's "lol" all round and some more "ooouiaaaavlaaaaeiiiousnapas" for good measure.

- American Geeks: Almost every American server I have ever played on has a majority of John Wayne players who are on a mission to tell you how shit you are when they wait in a dark corner for half the game just to shoot you when you run round a corner, and call you a cheater if you shoot them first. If they don't subscribe to this school of tactics they take the whole thing way past a game by saying things like "rifleman reporting for duty" which make even the geekiest of geeks shudder with embarrassment and feel like they're playing Dungeons and Dragons in their school lunchtime just so the cool kids won't get the chance to kick footballs at their heads at least until 3:10.

The rest are just insanely good.

- German Geeks: Most are disgustingly good and possess the common skill of being in the last place you were expecting, but somehow don't piss you off by killing you. The blinding panic you can't help but feel as you glance from treeline to rubble pile, squinting in an effort to get that important first shot in. The horror as you finally make out the muzzle poking out of the rock that you could have sworn wasn't there just a minute ago, just in time to see the muzzle flash and hear the reporting "pang" your helmet gives as the round zips into your skull. It's morbidly addictive.

I need to get out more. A lot more.

Modern Art: Let Retards Pretend They Have Talent

A four meter high bronze pole, with a sparow-sized model of a bird on it. How much would you pay for that...? A hundred pounds, three hundred at a push? Bronze isn't the most precious of metals is it, really.

So why in the name of sweet jesus and all that is fucking good and right does Tracey "oooh so provocative" Emin get paid £60,000 to make this...

...yeah that's right, that tiny little turd of a thing on that massive pole is her "art", and represents "strength and femininity". Strength, you could smash someones head in with the big pole if you were strong enough to wield it around. Femininity, Tracey Emin is the only female I would feel comfortable beating to death with a four meter long piece of bronze. I'm pretty fucking good at this interpretation of art shite.

This makes me so angry I want to hurt people for two reasons:

i) This is not art. This is not anything. This is a fucking timewaster who has convinced people who discuss the finer points of wine that she has a talent, and gets paid for it. It's just another one of those things that has been discussed for too long, when all that needs to be said about this stupid fucking woman is...she's a fucking timewaster with no skills, knowledge, creative vision and there is nothing she could say that would ever interest me except "I'm dying". Now let's go to the pub, get drunk, pull that ridiculous fucking thing down and slam it into the bitches skull. We can get pizza on the way.

ii) We paid for it.

I'm sick of this bullshit being allowed to even exist, let alone be discussed without mocking laughter playing an integral role. Art critics should be writing reviews of this work that read...

Tracey Emin: The Roman Standard
- review by Dave McArtcritic

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
aaaahahahahahahhahhahahahahahahahahahahaaahawhatacunt.

...and that should be that. No more discussion, no more "ooh what direction does this set modern art?" or "what does this say to you, is it too provocative?" if you even considered this as a worthwhile piece of creativity you are a fucking idiot, and I'm coming after you with that bronze pole once I've caved Emin's smug fucking skull in you bunch of fucking timewasters.

Chav: Let's End The Debate

When I first found chavscum.co.uk I was pleased to find someone else too was noting the disturbing increase in illiterate fuckwits shuffling around this tiny island. Before Christmas I noticed that a tiny market was opening up, treating the phenomena as if it was a humorous social occurrence. We had "the little book of text" and now there is "the little book of chav", I never thought much of it. Then came the obligatory TV shows, and what better to showcase the dribbling Sun readers of our shameless nation than a "100 Greatest..." format for celebrity chavs.

Just today I saw an advert for a crappy 'social documentary about one girl's bid to defend chavs, when during a conversation with an educated person he describes chavs as...

"a group of under-educated, illiterate, unemployed people from the working class"

to which she replies

"you just described my family"

....and that's supposed to...what exactly, convince me chavs are cool? I'm sorry sugarsnatch, all you did there was tell me you and your entire family are scummers, and that you probably have AIDS.
So what the fuck is going on here, in a society functioning correctly, the words "celebrity" and "chav"  should not be mentioned in the same sentence, let alone without some sense of irony. But yet here we are, watching as these brainless fucking idiots run about shouting about who they let penetrate their skanky puss-filled essex genitals and who the real father is, all while cashing in huge checks from any tabloid paper that will listen (you can usually tell them from actual newspapers, the bright primary colours are a giveaway) so they can sell this inane drivel to anyone who will read it.
And now people seem to accept some kind of discussion about the real place for "chav" in a society?

Well uncle Mike is here, once again, to slap you across your ignorant face with the cold sobering touch of rational thought that is the wakeup hand...ready?....chav, right?....okay....has been around since the dawn of man. Chavs, townies, dobbers, gypos, scummers, kevs, barries, rude-boys, pikies or whatever the fuck you want to call them have existed for longer than the past 10 years. Ask your parents, I guarantee you there was a smelly idiot pigchild in their class at school who everyone hated because all he did was pick his ass and punch other kids. Then ask them what the pigchild's parents were like. Yeah you fucking guessed it didn't you, the parents were just as repulsive, ergo, a family of scummy people happily scraping the bottom of the barrel for every hygiene, literacy and human quality just enough to prevent being identified as a monkey. Chav.

Just because they get more benefits now and can afford some nike trainers and a dash of tommy hilfiger aftershave, doesn't mean they are somehow lovable rouges that we should all have a good laugh at while roughing their hair. It's not Rab C Nesbit giving me verbal and throwing lager cans at me when I walk home at night, it's 15 year old tracksuited should-be abortions. Drop your romantic ideas of a lovable underclass rough diamond, we're talking an exponential increase in the scumbag population via the beautiful chav mating ritual of a bottle of white lightning under the park slide, and a packet of damage discounted prophylactics. One Britney/Shanznay and 12 years later and they're already starting on the next generation, while you're working, paying taxes and planning your lives, these bastards are fucking their way into the majority.

Stop making the desperate situation of this country into something acceptable and kill a chav today.

People Who Should Have Left Me Alone

I was taking a bus home the other day, and while I was hating a small child for screaming just to annoy me, my mind wondered back to my teenage years for some reason. I remembered things I had done, some shame came back, some amusing memories came with it.

But the cul de sac of rage that my thought train terminated at, was how much I still hated Alan Walls from my old school. That made me hate the screaming shitface kid even more. So pure was the hatred I still hold for this person, I began to wonder how many other people who fucked me off a long time ago, I would still like to take a bat to.

My conclusion? All of them. Yeah I know it's disturbing how long I can hold a grudge for, so in celebration of my near psychotic ability I have constructed Mike's Hit List.
Anyone on this list should actively ensure I never get enough money together to buy a gun or hire a hit man. Or just say sorry.

Mike's List-o-Painback (see what I did there?)

1. Tony Shannon: In the ever so dark twisted part of my soul where my jet black, oil-like rage bubbles and simmers there is an image of this man. Not unlike the scene in T2 where Robert Patrick gets thrown into the molten metal.

This smarmy, self-righteous, pompous, lying, conceited, arrogant, evil fucking love child of Satan and Lotney 'Sloth' Fratelli took great pleasure in attempting to sabotage my school career. As if my own lethargy wasn't bad enough, this blubbering waste of carbon pissed me off at every turn. Threatened to lose my UCAS form, then actually did, then lied to the headmaster when I dropped him in it.

Execution: Bludgeoned to near-death with a copy of Mein Kampf, before removing his finger tips and forcing him to play a guitar strung with barbed wire. Finally his barely breathing body will be dumped in a river, where I will run him over in a huge fucking cruiser while high fiving myself and drinking beer, surrounded by hot chicks. 
2. Mr Constable: Sour faced excuse for a physics teacher who took me aside before I took my GCSE's to inform me I had no hope of passing physics, and would scrape a D in the other separate sciences based on fuck all knowledge of the grades I was getting and without discussion. I shit on you Constable.

Execution: Staked to the ground while a giant metal 'A' is lifted above him on a crane. I then get to shout at him for a bit, maybe fling my shit at him before I give the signal to 'Big Dave' who drops the fifty tonne steel letter onto his tiny body.

 

 

 

3. Alan Walls: After getting disgustingly drunk and smashing a window at a party, I felt bad enough, but after paying back the guys who subbed the money for repairs, this fucktard just had to run his stupid goddamn mouth off the next time he saw me.
He was just fucking annoying, as I remember. The kind of guy who would tell you something you already knew, as if he was doing you a big fucking favour, or that was none of his goddamn business. Played the guitar to a level of a rohypnol-ed toddler but thought he was fucking great.
The poster boy for contraception.

Execution: Spat at then shot in the face. Deserves none of my genius imagination.

 

 

 

 

Considering how many people I feel must meet my cold vengeance, and the finite space of this post I actually can't fit it all on here. I'm not fucking about either, I have a list.

SUV: Suburban Unintelligent Vagina

They're another shining example of yet one more American, gluttonous, over-stated concept rubbing off onto our culture. Every time I drive my car, some giant pulsating rectum in an SUV will drive their over sized tank four inches from my rear bumper, it's like they're just driving around waiting for me to get on the road so they can piss me off. I hate them and I want them to die by some horrible arse prolapsing accident.

Unless you live on a farm or a mountain, there is no need to own one, yet SUV driving fuckfaces everywhere will try and justify why they spent ridiculous amounts of money on these pieces of shit. Take my next-door neighbour for example, they have two kids and claim that they "need a large car to get them around", I don't think so tough-guy. How did families with two children or more get around before SUV's turned up? I'll help you out here with a little hint. Normal cars. Yeah it's incredible isn't it, I was shocked too, but even a hatchback can fit two adults and two toddlers in it. It's incredible I know but true none the less.
So I still refuse to accept why my neighbour owns two, not just one, of these stupid fucking metal boxes on wheels.

Asserting the stupidity of this vehicle phenomenon is the pretentious fucking names they slap on these things like "Adventure" or "Explorer". Sorry I didn't realise you bought one of these things to get around the hardcore terrain of Surrey...

"How was your day honey?"
"Yeah great, so glad I bought that SUV, I ran into some rough shit down on the A3 today, I tell you sugar-lips, it's a man's job exploring these un-chartered lands of southwest London. Yeah I just shoved her into four wheel mode and ploughed into the 'devils stretch' of patchy tarmac."
"That's great honey"

....no, wait, you're a bunch of fucking retards. You need four wheel drive to get around man-made roads? No, you don't so I'm sorry but your car will be destroyed with your idiot children still in it just to make an example of you.

Then there are the real pompous dickheads who take their SUV "off road" at the weekend. Again my neighbour is a perfect example of this specimen, leaving his mud covered shit-truck on the drive for a good few days before hosing it down, as if I'm going to walk past and drop to my knees in awe "Jesus christ man you been offroading? Fuck man your cock must be fucking huge! You badass hardcore motherfucker you man, give me a high five for your bad self...yeah!"
I don't think so cockface, you're not impressive, that's what the car is built for. If I drove a plane around on the ground on weekdays then took off for a quick flight on the weekend I wouldn't expect a fucking medal when I came home.

Plus, 'off-roading' is fucking lame and has been done before and to a standard that rocks harder than any bearded shit brain slowly driving over a big hill of mud. I refer of course, to rally driving, observe...

...wow hold onto your balls we're going over a foot high lump of dirt with thousands of pounds of suspension and four wheel drive technology beneath us. Are you hot, shall I turn the air-con on? Ahh that's better.

You bunch of pussies, that guy in the rally car is probably high on smack and has no idea what the fuck he's doing or how he got there, high fiving his co-driver round each corner with ACDC blaring out of the stereo. That car was built with one criteria in mind, make it go fucking fast. Four wheel drive? Fuck man, this guy has three wheels on the ground and he's still driving like he stole the fucker. 

If you own an SUV you have probably realised your mistake by now. But whatever you do don't sell it, that will just create another 4x4 dickhead. No instead you can help clear up the roads and stop this stupid trend by taking your SUV out for a drive and slamming it into another one (preferably head-on). Congratulations you've just saved yourself and another from SUV twathood. Help yourself to a medal.

Porn: They Sell It, I Buy It. What's The Problem

Every man at some point has bought a jazz mag, whatever ignites your spunk firework, there's a mag out there that will strike your blue touch paper. So to speak.
Any self respecting corner-shop or petrol station will sell the usual line-up any porn punter expects, but a few years ago I staggered down to my local 24 hour one-stop to get a pot noodle and an issue of Club (they put the 'ass' in class, apparently). Staring through my booze filled eyes, my brain failed to locate the usual criteria it recognises as porn-mag covers. Brightly coloured titles and women's fingers irritatingly covering the good stuff were not recognised by the initial scan.

Only after asking the clerk where all the porn had gone was I informed that his wife did not approve of it being so openly advertised and had made him conceal the covers with sheets of A4 paper. I didn't care at the time as the joy of porn had been restored to my otherwise boring night. Excellent.
Recently, however, this seems to be assimilated as newsagent policy, which just adds to the ignorant shitbrained opinion that buying porn is bad.

This, to me, seems rather hypocritical. For starters, any news stand or news agent gets paid to have a cigarette stand behind the counter, buying cigarettes is not seen as wrong or disgusting, yet to my knowledge (and please inform me if I'm wrong here) no-one has ever died from buying porn. The number of people that die every day from smoking is equal to a 747 crash with a 100% fatality rate.

Strangely, the Sun newspaper (I use the term "newspaper" extremely loosely here) can generally be located within easy reach of anyone over 2 years old. A baby in a push chair could grab a copy, with a helping hand. Now, I don't know if this is news to anyone, but on page.....hmmm I think it's three... you can see (drum roll please) drrrrrrrrrrrrrr....A big pair of breasts, right there, in your fucking face, nips out, balls to the wall, tits.
Now, this seems a little strange to me, buying porn is bad, but buying a newspaper with porn enclosed in it is not bad. Is anyone else getting confused here?

Sex sells, and by god does it sell well. All McDonald's would have to do to take over the world would be to hand out pictures of hot girls with their fingers up their clackers with every Big Mac. Fuck, I would go and buy five of the shit-slabs if they did that.
It's everywhere, even toothpaste uses sex as a marketing tool. At what point do you associate sex with toothpaste? Teeth are not horny, although ironically, the idea of having sex with someone without teeth is fucking repulsive. Strange, I'll have to look into that.

So what's so wrong with porn? We all accept that our sexuality is targeted as a marketing tool, so surely buying a jazz mag is like buying toothpaste?
I want to brush my teeth, I have perused the various brands, I saw a half naked chick on an advert stroking a guy as he used this brand so maybe I'll buy that and brush my teeth all day waiting for the action to start.
Now I'm horny from thinking about toothpaste girl and I want to satisfy my sexual urges without having to bother about someone else's. I have perused the various publications on offer, and apparently Sandy from Razzle wants me to "put it up the wrong hole". Funny, I happen to have an urge to put it up Sandy's wrong hole. Convenient.

Guess which purchase will get a disapproving look from the store clerk.

But this contradiction in "acceptable" sexual content still works today. There are still people alive in this day and age that deny masturbating, ever. They will react as if you are strange when the subject comes up, when really, anyone who has honestly never smacked one out is fucking weird, and will probably end up killing someone, burying them for three weeks then digging them up and jizzing on them while reading the bible. Or something.

I've got to go because I've accidentally left Bravo on past 12o'clock and there's a naked chick on the screen who just said 'anal'. But I'll leave you with this.
The next time you buy a jazz mag from a newsagent's, and they give you a dirty look. Look them in the eye and ask them who is the more disgusting, the person who buys the porn, or the person who sells it.

And get a copy for me while you're there.

Good People Die, Let's Even The Teams A Bit

I think we can all agree, our time on this mortal coil is ticking down all the time. Except for Philip Scofield who has sold his soul to the devil for the gift of eternal life and auto-fellatio (how can any man be happy spending that much time around Fern Britton?) and pretends he is getting old by dying his hair grey. I don't buy it for a second Phil.

Good people die, and the rest of the un-evolved mulch gets to carry on their pointless existence, ignorant to the fact that if God really was vengeful he would have ruined their shit for being so fucking lame by now. So like everything else, someone has to step up and reset the balance of the world, and since everyone is going to be watching celebrity "my career has flat lined" big brother I think we can sneak this in the backdoor before anyone has time to realise or do anything about it.

Observe...

Mike's Theory Of People Balance:

With respect to oxygen usage, food consumption and pollution created vs. justification of existence, I have calculated the following;

1 good person = 5 people who should have been a wank

Therefore, with every good person who dies the ratio of idiots to non-idiots increases dramatically. Like global warming, this problem needs to be dealt with now before we are forced to move to the moon in order to escape the cancer-like spread of fucktards across the surface of the planet. We need to begin the cull people, let's check out Mike's first five candidates.

Here's the deal. Bill Hicks is dead, and technically the following people have had almost a decade head start so they should be put down on site. Comedy loses Bill Hicks? That sucks, hard, but let's balance this thing out a bit.....

No no stop trying to justify him and just look at his fucking face. Look at it, this man is not funny, in any way at all. Even watered down in the mind-numbing vomit fest that was "Baddiel and Skinner Unplanned" he is just not funny.

The fact that this man sang at the end of a "comedy" show should be enough to warrant his public castration. I wish he had remained an active alcoholic, at least then we could have had a good laugh at his pathetic garglings as his liver turned to mush and the release of his meaningless life was marked by the quiet flow of urine across the gurney.

His face looks malformed as well, does that not disturb anyone else?

"Oh Johnathan Ross, he's so funny, so edgy, his comedy is so fast and witty"....this man is becoming a giant walking vagina at a terrifyingly exponential rate. He is not funny, if someone else ever tries to talk back to him he shouts them down with playground-innuendo and a slurry of knob-gags.

Don't get me wrong, innuendo is good, it has it's place but if I locked you in a room with me, and I proceeded to turn anything you said into innuendo, you would want to stab me in the eye after thirty minutes, and I wouldn't blame you. Whoever made him a supposed reputable voice as a film critic should also be thrown in the shallow grave (which he will dig at gun-point by the way) with him, he knows nothing about films whatsoever, and I even heard him form an opinion against "American Pie 2" saying, and I quote...

"It's just a load of knob gags and toilet humour"

...that's it John, kneel in front of the pit, feel the sobering cold touch of the pistol barrel in the base of your neck. Does it feel like a cock Johnathan? Does it? Not so mouthy now John, hmmm? Fuck you. Die.

A controversial selection. If you're a big fan of The Office I can see how you were rohypnol-ed by the retarded grin of this fat bastard, dragged down a dark alley of droning, dead-pan monologue and slumped over a biffa bin as he filled your every orifice with his slimy, self-satisfied sperm. You awake in the morning with his monotonous voice and highly irritating "baby-on-acid" esque laugh echoing around your skull, and stagger into your nearest HMV and pick up every box-set of The Office you can find. The security guard stares at you, the greasy beige jizz running down your legs leaving a trail on the floor as you shuffle, dazed, into the street .

The biggest trick this cock-dribble ever pulled was convincing the world he was "acting" as David Brent. He is David Brent. And like that....poof...he's fucking everywhere.

 

From my theory stated above, we can only execute 5 shitbags, so obviously killing all of this lot would put us over our quota. Also, Ozzy is only linked to them through family, not by being a pissbag. Were he to not be so wasted all the time I can guarantee you he would have realised just how fucking annoying his offspring are, downed a bottle of Jack and ruined their shit with a giant cross by now.

These little bastards should by all rights have just been violent wank sessions into a copy of razzle in a shitty toilet on a tour bus. But no, instead we had to be subjected to the useless crap they have bestowed on the world.

Fuck it, if there is anyone who doesn't want Jack and Kelly Osborne to fuck off and die, then you should be on this list too. I hate you. Get the fuck off my page.

I Can Whack Off Really Fast, Where's My OBE?

You know the guy, he's won five Olympic gold medals and he's more than happy to tell you at every fucking minute of the day, he's on my fucking TV telling me what car insurance to buy and now you can wear his clothes from the modestly titled "five gold" clothing line. Steve fucking Redgrave is the bane of my goddamn life.

Surprisingly this isn't a popular opinion to hold in this day and age, where for some reason the good old hilarity of putting people on pedestals then knocking them down to earth is no longer accepted. No, now we are more than happy to put whatever brain-dead moron we see onto centre stage and let them grab as much cash as the media will throw them. It's celebrity creating crystal dome, quick grab a moron and throw them in. Watch them jump for the cash.

What kind of society do we live in where Jade Goody is not only allowed to exist, but is drawn to the public's attention without being chased through the streets and bludgeoned with copies of the English dictionary. And I mean the big fuck-off Collins ones, not those pocket versions. By all natural law Jade Goody should have been run over, fallen off something or accidentally caused her own death by attempting to work out her change from a happy meal. The only reason she is still alive is because we let her get enough cash to hire body guards.

Most people don't agree with my opinion on Steve Redgrave especially since the shitbag comes from my home town...

"you can't say that, the man won five Olympic golds, he's a national treasure"

..really? He won five gold's okay I'll give you that, but not alone, let's remember that. But is there really nothing else going on in the world, is there no-one doing anything else more important than four guys in a boat rowing it really fast? From the nations reaction you'd think not.

Oh sorry I haven't been using Steve's real title, there's a Sir at the beginning of that. I'd rather watch an entire series of Sex in the City sat in a paddling pool of broken glass and vinegar with a speculum in my arse than go back and correct it, so do me a favour and just imagine I did. Great.
So they gave the big bag of testicle sweat an OBE, what the fuck for...

"It's good Mike, we should publicly award these great people for their achievements"

...hold the 'phone there sweet-cheeks, publicly award them? Sorry sorry I'm getting lost in all the fucking ticker tape and excitement here, but please tell me if I'm wrong. Isn't that the whole fucking idea of an "Olympic gold medal"? I think that's pretty goddamn public as far as things go.

But no it wasn't enough, like everything else, the public got carried away and before we knew it we gave the dickhead one of the highest national awards, (or at least it was until Blair decided every fuckface who did anything vaguely popular should have one, "hey you been on the TV? Hey man the OBE's are in that dish over there man, help yourself").

And it didn't stop there, no they decided to put up a hundred thousand pound statue of good 'ol Steve just in case we hadn't gone too over the top about the whole thing.

Check out this life-altering quote from Stevie in the Bucks Free Press...

"when Great Marlow School teacher Francis Smith, who still lives in Marlow, asked him if he would like to try rowing because he was impressed with the size of his hands and feet.

"I said, 'Yes', for it meant I could get out of school." "

Well fuck me if that isn't a role model for the children of the country. Hey kids, Steve says fuck school let's all go rowing, yeah don't worry about the industries, literature, public transport, health care, or education man just fuck that shit let's get out on that river and get those gold medals. That's how we set up the worlds biggest empire after all, rowing a boat faster than any other fucker out there.

And besides, any teacher that is "impressed" by the size of a pupils hands and feet should be fired.....from a cannon into the sea then dragged out, wired to the mains, forced to watch an entire series of Sex in the City sat in a paddling pool of broken glass and vinegar with a speculum in their arse then shot in the face.

Oh and in case you're wondering, the body of Stevie in that fucking statue is about 8ft in reality, and I still have a bigger package. Fuck you Steve.

I'm An Idiot, I Will Walk Into You

I've been noticing this for a while now, and today's trip into town to execute some menial tasks has just confirmed that it is not a passing trend. The average person on the street is incapable of walking along a 50m stretch of pavement without walking into someone else.

You can try this for yourself, go into town at a busy time and stand at the top of the high-street, choose a destination and pick your way through the mewing consumer-cattle to said point. I guarantee you someone will walk into you, walk in front of you causing you to almost fall over them or randomly stop dead in front of you because their brains are incapable of thinking about what useless piece of crap they want to buy next while controlling their legs.

I know what you're thinking, "but they could say the same about you Mike, maybe you're the one getting in peoples way", it's an interesting theory you have, or it would be if I entertained it for longer than I feel concern about a porn-star's well being as I watch her get plugged by five guys and a labrador.

No I know it's not me because I know for a fact that the IQ of the average person is dropping. Don't believe me? Okay try this. Go to your nearest University reception desk and ask them if they run a 'sports science' degree course. One of two things will happen....

a) they will be running the course and ask you to apply through the correct channels, or...
b) they won't be running the course

the following will not happen....

a) they laugh in your face then phone up the dean, who comes down and laughs in your face then calls a press conference so the media can laugh at you and take pictures. You stand, confused and near to tears as each flash from the photographers seems to bleach another part of your dignity from your shattered soul.

Indisputable proof that the standards are being dropped, purely to perpetuate this bullshit ideal that we are all academically equal, an no-one can fail at anything because it's just not fair to let someone fail. But I digress.

My theory is also proven by the following highly scientific study based on the one thing that attracts idiots to an area like moths to a big greasy shit-flame. McDonald's. Observe.....

And there it is. The only question left now is what to do about it?

I'll leave you to mull it over but here's a little seed of thought to plant and nurture, how did the countryside alliance reckon they keep the number of foxes at an acceptable level?
All I'm saying is now that fox hunting is banned, they're all itching to get on their horses and chase something across a field before letting hundreds of dogs rip it apart.

Hmmmmmm.