Ah now.
It's an outcast's life for me, more by choice. Plus I get the jacuzzi thrown in.
As I recline here on the loophole between crime and legality, in the fresh sunshine of costa wherever, I admit my only crime is laziness more than anything else.
I used to proudly use this page as my own personal garbage dump; leaving all the shit here and having a jolly time with the rest of my day. It was great! But then they had recycling, you gotta separate the crap from the turds and that and not put them into landfill, etc. Plus coming up with mean-spirited spite just wasn't part of my day anymore. It took effort, ya know? Who's got time for that when you can sit in a swimming pool for hours on end in costa del when they catch you? Not me, I'm happy lazy!! I taught Kate Nash all she knows about lyrics. On purpose too! Hehe, told you I was a bastard.
But I'm sitting here thinking there must be some dollops of hate you can still occasionally hurl at the world, you know just so I can keep my hand in, prove I'm still a pro and for a laff anyway. Well I went through all the papers and found a letter from once poster here, Junax.
Junax and the hairdresser; what a load of boring whining that was! Still bangs on about it that's why posting privileges were withdrawn from that numbnuts. However, I was amused to read in his latest missive that the hairdresser is still with David Drabs (that's the name I think), who is soft of like an anus-chinned pig breeder who votes TUV. Pairing with him is a foul union which now condemns rest of her life to a living purgatory, and she has become the size of a boar to boot! What was all that gubbage about being on a diet?! You may well ask Junax my boy. I think "bollocks" is the correct term to describe it though "bullshit" works just as well.
As much as the fate of these meaningless sods moved me to hilarity (as did Junax's moping over it), I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to educate y'all on a few rules of love and throw a bit of hateful shit around at the same time. You guys are all giving out bad vibes for the yankee festival of Halloween so why not? It's no worse than all the negative stuff you're celebrating! Are sitting with discomfort? Then we'll begin...
RULE WAN:
Girls are just as inconsistent as men are! They say one thing and renage on it the next. Pay it no serious heed. If you are in a relationship with a girl just listen politely and go along with the about face when it comes. It's horseshit anyway so don't give it any of your serious attention, save that for paying the bills. It's also horseshit when they bitch about you being inconsistent. Don't let it get to you, it takes one to know one...
RULE TRUE:
Women are beautiful. It's true! Even Bisson has lost himself to doe-eyed dribbling, imagined himself in love. However, beautiful minds and personalities are a bit thin on the ground in lady-land...This is nothing to do with intelligence BTW!! Women are smarter and more capable than men. Look at all the dumb shit men have done over the centuries for goodness sake and women always have to put things right after. No, we are talking about BEAUTY not INTELLIGENCE!! A beautiful mind is existent where someone shares and understands the many things that you find beautiful in this life and the love of a personality that comforts you
to your soul.
Contrary to what we are fed from year dot, getting a good match in mind and personality is impossible in this life. That is to say non-existent. Therefore as a man you embue a woman you are attracted to with qualities and charm she never had in the first place. This only makes the plummet more painful. The real person betrays the ideal created and that hurts. For example, Junax as a painter is done over by the hairdresser for a pig breeder. Painting takes talent, that is unique; pig breeding takes education and physically wanking off pigs. That can be learnt or in this case, a hobby. Why would you want an artificial creation of over the genuine article?
It's simple. Junax gave the hairdresser qualities she never had as he quite fancied her. Painting is of no interest to her. She's been styling pigs from word go. Junax created a faux hairdresser, took a liking to her and then was betrayed when the real personality came through. This is why second dates are such a major fuck-up. To be fair to women though, they have been fantasising princes out of frogs a lot longer than we have, hence the much older tradition of "men, they're all bastards." As the disappointed, we are relative newcomers.
RULE TREE:
Consider the frog. Many women do indeed. They see that little green fart sitting there day after day going "ribbit" and they see the consistency that has so far eluded them. This is why women end up with the male equivalent of a dollop of tapioca sitting on the sofa. He has nothing of interest about him; he is as boring and as unexceptionable as the universe is old. But and it's a massive but, which he has also, he is dependable! He will always be sitting there, watching the football in a small cloud of steam. He lacks the imagination to be anything but boring and predictable. Just the kind of stable guy you can have your children with.
Even 50 Shades of Grey settles down?! HAHAHAHA! As if! That's the biggest work of fiction in that whole book right there! A billionare with butt-plug fixations becoming reliable?! Dream on ladies! Let's say that pussy-whipped (in a figurative sense now) he may become but he always has one eye on that little escape route for the day. That's the best you can ever hope for and even achieveing that will put years on you...and the pounds.
The tapioca men are nothing like that. They're dull! They're boring! They're perfect to raise the kids and that is the truth about love. Girls! Get yourself a boring arse today! If the hairdresser can do it, you too can live the dream. Now true, this will make self-maintenance redundant; I mean, who are you ever going to impress? You will put weight on with the boredom and the constant pregnancies, unless you start an affair. But that's a small price to pay for a consistent husband and a good father. This is why all women end up with boring fuckwit men no matter what. Fact. Of. Life.
Ah yes, always good to tune in the uninitiated. If only Junax would get it, poor deluded romantic sod, ah well. It's true though; the alpha-males get to be presentable after a lot of work and even then they're always looking for a way out. Artists? Pah! Just end up on their own. Picasso was only able to dick around the way he did because he was successful; most end up in their isolated little garret, staring at that unfinished canvas, lonely as fuck but don't have the money to buy the pills or the noose. The tapioca, boring man will be laughing all the way to the bank from day one. He's ready to find love. Well, he won't be laughing that's too exciting and love is a bit too interesting for him. Emotions aren't his thing, maybe watching football. But he will be there, consistent and reliable just sitting on the sofa; the shit stain you can never scrub away.
So what of Bisson in all this? Well, love is a foreign country and children are terrorists from that land, seeking to impose dictatorship. I reckon I'll just say single and child-free and try and make myself happy rather than relying on somebody else to do it for me. There's a notion! Wow, it could work! Us artists eh? Always with the wacky ideas. Enjoy your negative vibe fest this week, not my thing really.
Back to the swimming pool.
Bisson
Monday, 28 October 2013
Sunday, 11 August 2013
Yet another portrait of you!
Yawwwwwwwwn...
It's such a difficult living in a villa with it's own pool, jacuzzi and private beach for three months, but, fuck it.
I find myself stirred in the last couple of days teaching my poor, weepy friend, Kelly Brook, what assholes rugby players actually are. It's like politicians, it takes a special type of shit to devote themselves so entirely to a profession. Actually all hunks are shits, Kelly my dear, avoid them like the plague as you will never be happy with them. Why not try a half-mad poet instead? I know a bloke who is right up your street. No looker but the guy has some talent.
You see wisdom is something that I impart but may not practice, but impartiality is a good thing.
I am fed up to read in 'El Fartknocker', the discerning periodical, that protests are back in Norn Iron. Wha?! Come on guys, you've been down this boring road a thousand times. I told you, Northern Ireland is not Hawaii! There is no sun, beautiful seas or lovely people. Stop wasting your fucking lives over somewhere that exists just to stop the cowpats from getting wet. Ninety miles of dry cowpats is a good thing but not something to waste your life protesting over. I know tons of better things to do.
What is it this time anyway. So a band can walk back up a road eh? Sheeit whatever helps you sleep at night. A lack of enthusiasm for muff-diving is more upsetting, for example. Having said that loyalist protests are probably not a great place to pick up girls. Trying to get the conversation to change from 'No surrender' to 'you wanna come back to mine?' sounds a challenge in itself.
I think I saw the fleg once and did not get what the fuss was about. I thought that looks like a bit of cloth on a pole, will that create jobs and reignite the economy? No...yet to hear of bits of cloth that bring jobs back to the country. Investors tend to be into something else, like maybe a place where the people aren't violent nutcases is where they dig putting their money. Cos non-violent nutcases are very good at making more money plus the original investment. So it doesn't make money this fleg, you can't eat it and it looks rubbish at keeping you warm so what's all the fucking shitstorm about?!
Get annoyed about something that matters like you can only get blowjobs on designated days of the year. That would REALLY fuck me off, never mind all this fleg shit. Your right to suck the nipples of a large pair of tits has been re-routed to someone else...FUCK YOU!! I'm gonna get violent over that. Y'know perspective folks remember that? Can't march back the way you came on a lovely summers day? Shit wan. I am bereft...have to do all the ten million things I wanted to do instead like bring sexual pleasure to women and such.
Fuck it, you've been at it 300 years. Whatever floats your boat and helps you sleep at night, go for it. Just don't interrupt my liberties doing it. Of course, NOT being in Northern Ireland helps a great deal in doing that!
Now Kelly, poets, I tell you, you'll never look back. Hunks will be yesterdays chip papers and at last you will know satisfaction...
Bisson
It's such a difficult living in a villa with it's own pool, jacuzzi and private beach for three months, but, fuck it.
I find myself stirred in the last couple of days teaching my poor, weepy friend, Kelly Brook, what assholes rugby players actually are. It's like politicians, it takes a special type of shit to devote themselves so entirely to a profession. Actually all hunks are shits, Kelly my dear, avoid them like the plague as you will never be happy with them. Why not try a half-mad poet instead? I know a bloke who is right up your street. No looker but the guy has some talent.
You see wisdom is something that I impart but may not practice, but impartiality is a good thing.
I am fed up to read in 'El Fartknocker', the discerning periodical, that protests are back in Norn Iron. Wha?! Come on guys, you've been down this boring road a thousand times. I told you, Northern Ireland is not Hawaii! There is no sun, beautiful seas or lovely people. Stop wasting your fucking lives over somewhere that exists just to stop the cowpats from getting wet. Ninety miles of dry cowpats is a good thing but not something to waste your life protesting over. I know tons of better things to do.
What is it this time anyway. So a band can walk back up a road eh? Sheeit whatever helps you sleep at night. A lack of enthusiasm for muff-diving is more upsetting, for example. Having said that loyalist protests are probably not a great place to pick up girls. Trying to get the conversation to change from 'No surrender' to 'you wanna come back to mine?' sounds a challenge in itself.
I think I saw the fleg once and did not get what the fuss was about. I thought that looks like a bit of cloth on a pole, will that create jobs and reignite the economy? No...yet to hear of bits of cloth that bring jobs back to the country. Investors tend to be into something else, like maybe a place where the people aren't violent nutcases is where they dig putting their money. Cos non-violent nutcases are very good at making more money plus the original investment. So it doesn't make money this fleg, you can't eat it and it looks rubbish at keeping you warm so what's all the fucking shitstorm about?!
Get annoyed about something that matters like you can only get blowjobs on designated days of the year. That would REALLY fuck me off, never mind all this fleg shit. Your right to suck the nipples of a large pair of tits has been re-routed to someone else...FUCK YOU!! I'm gonna get violent over that. Y'know perspective folks remember that? Can't march back the way you came on a lovely summers day? Shit wan. I am bereft...have to do all the ten million things I wanted to do instead like bring sexual pleasure to women and such.
Fuck it, you've been at it 300 years. Whatever floats your boat and helps you sleep at night, go for it. Just don't interrupt my liberties doing it. Of course, NOT being in Northern Ireland helps a great deal in doing that!
Now Kelly, poets, I tell you, you'll never look back. Hunks will be yesterdays chip papers and at last you will know satisfaction...
Bisson
Saturday, 13 April 2013
Not My Problem!!
Being considered intelligent is about as much good as being praised for having a large bladder. No matter the amount of space, you're still full of piss.
I don't know what Justin Beiber's new haircut is like and it's killing me. Well no, more a pity its not killing him. Assad is really going to have to pull the big guns out if war in Syria is to compete with that hot bit of news.
Things not to do on my holidays...well, talk about them for one. Having to recall what you did for your holidays is such a jaw-breaking yawn. Anyway I still am on holiday, unless something comes to mind.
Nothing has, but you gotta be interested enough for that to happen. Bored, bored, bored at the minute.
What not to do on your holidays...Go to Blarney Castle? Actually that's a good one. Go there, stand in the pissing weather to kiss a bit of stone that will give you the gift of the gab. Do you see the queues linining up at this place? That's a lot of people with the gift of the gab, I don't think they've thought about how fucking noisy that will be. Anyway there is something which can make you talk a lot of constant shit. It's called cocaine and it's not recommended so why is this?
So you go there, pay your money, stand in a queue in the rain and then are lowered over a sheer drop to kiss a stone window lintel. Not the expected at all. Why's it over a sheer drop? What are they saying here? The ones who just plummet to the ground keep the talking numbers down? In what twisted way did this become a guarantee that you'll become a noisy asshole? Of course, not the stupidest idea in human history...
The stone itself has a big wet patch where all the kissing happens. So you kiss the stone and you get the gift of the...facial herpies. Went to the Blarney Stone, kissed it and now genital warts are springing up on my face. Don't know how that happened and the swellings make it difficult to speak. Not as bad as when you get them on the back of the throat of course, but not sure what sort of gift that is really.
Y'know, let's cut through the crap and say right here, that being a chatty sort is way overrated. Ok, you're able to make small polite talk, yeah yeah, and so you're a more attractive person and all that. But then if you are so quick to chat then you transmit your thoughts the minute you think them. They never are given the deeper thought and consideration they require by internal perusing. You are far more the interesting person if you give great thought to it. I can say that as it bigs me up loads. I tell you, you are more a person of consequence if you talk less, think more.
Kind of like eat less, shit more, but for the modern age. Back to the jacuzzi.
Bisson
I don't know what Justin Beiber's new haircut is like and it's killing me. Well no, more a pity its not killing him. Assad is really going to have to pull the big guns out if war in Syria is to compete with that hot bit of news.
Things not to do on my holidays...well, talk about them for one. Having to recall what you did for your holidays is such a jaw-breaking yawn. Anyway I still am on holiday, unless something comes to mind.
Nothing has, but you gotta be interested enough for that to happen. Bored, bored, bored at the minute.
What not to do on your holidays...Go to Blarney Castle? Actually that's a good one. Go there, stand in the pissing weather to kiss a bit of stone that will give you the gift of the gab. Do you see the queues linining up at this place? That's a lot of people with the gift of the gab, I don't think they've thought about how fucking noisy that will be. Anyway there is something which can make you talk a lot of constant shit. It's called cocaine and it's not recommended so why is this?
So you go there, pay your money, stand in a queue in the rain and then are lowered over a sheer drop to kiss a stone window lintel. Not the expected at all. Why's it over a sheer drop? What are they saying here? The ones who just plummet to the ground keep the talking numbers down? In what twisted way did this become a guarantee that you'll become a noisy asshole? Of course, not the stupidest idea in human history...
The stone itself has a big wet patch where all the kissing happens. So you kiss the stone and you get the gift of the...facial herpies. Went to the Blarney Stone, kissed it and now genital warts are springing up on my face. Don't know how that happened and the swellings make it difficult to speak. Not as bad as when you get them on the back of the throat of course, but not sure what sort of gift that is really.
Y'know, let's cut through the crap and say right here, that being a chatty sort is way overrated. Ok, you're able to make small polite talk, yeah yeah, and so you're a more attractive person and all that. But then if you are so quick to chat then you transmit your thoughts the minute you think them. They never are given the deeper thought and consideration they require by internal perusing. You are far more the interesting person if you give great thought to it. I can say that as it bigs me up loads. I tell you, you are more a person of consequence if you talk less, think more.
Kind of like eat less, shit more, but for the modern age. Back to the jacuzzi.
Bisson
Monday, 1 April 2013
The feeling that you're being fucked and it isn't even nice?
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooohhhh!!!!
Trying to have a holiday here! As predicted there is something that pissed me off enough to have to come back! Now look I wanna relax, then I start bitching again, that was the plan.
But guess what?! The cocksuckers of the Secret Rulers of the World have decided to announce some fresh stroke to make life even more worse for all and sundry. Especially when it doesn't need to be.
Benefit reform...
Yeah, seriously that is the great idea! Now this shower of useless bastards couldn't even hit a barn door with a double bass but are in charge of finding the money that their mates lost for us five years ago and now we, for some reason, have to pay back even though WE DIDN'T FUCKING LOSE IT. Oh and there's more! Haven't a clue who we're actually paying back now. Usually you have a good idea of your debtors when they turn up at the door with baseball bats and a rottweiler. But we owe all our money to...goodness knows who! Don't imagine that the Coalition knows either. Especially as NO FUCKER VOTED FOR THEM.
Yes, this collection of well off, middle class morons are now the judge and jury of who gets what money where. Not that they're any good at the jobs they do, far too incompetent for that.
You get to be minister of work and pensions because you followed the Prime Minster into the toilets and wanked him off in such a way that the gobule of congealed semen in his knob was finally evacuated, hitting the ceiling with a satisfying plop. Do it again next year and you might be made Health secretary.
So a rich elite employ these scumbags to make the poor even more worse off...welcome to the wonderful world of human values.
Still old Iain Duncan Smith says that he could live on 53 pounds a week. The cunt won't though. And he wouldn't have the first fucking clue how to anyway, though his butler might have a vague notion. He used to be party leader...you can see how well that went...
Now they did say that this will encourage people back into work. Oh, there's jobs then are there? No, but it will get people off their books and it'll look better at the end of the year. Well, if it's going to get people back into work then the job I want is work and pensions secretary. No, make that Prime Minster. I have some great ideas where to get money. Asset-stripping Eton College would just be the start of it. If I fuck up, they're all doing that and getting huge pay-packets for it, so who'd notice?
Of course we should be realistic here. The world is no better than it was centuries ago, just the Elite are more likely to hide what they're doing now as they stop their unending quest to do us all to miserable deaths.
Does anyone care? Prime example of whether they do or not is if a facist is elected manager of a football team and surrounding humanity will then respond along the lines of:
"Aye, well I dunt mind if he's persecuting them fellas, just as long as we stay 8 points up in the championship...". Give 'em a big hand folks or a straight arm salute.
Urh. Gonna get back to hols now. Some folks said I don't have a patriotic bone in my body. Not so, I remember I went to a tropical island some time ago and was sitting on the beach, having a few cocktails when the local ladies volleyball team started practicing nearby. I can't remember what that island was called but I would have given my life for those girls, for those three hours or so. How patriotic can you get?
Bisson
Trying to have a holiday here! As predicted there is something that pissed me off enough to have to come back! Now look I wanna relax, then I start bitching again, that was the plan.
But guess what?! The cocksuckers of the Secret Rulers of the World have decided to announce some fresh stroke to make life even more worse for all and sundry. Especially when it doesn't need to be.
Benefit reform...
Yeah, seriously that is the great idea! Now this shower of useless bastards couldn't even hit a barn door with a double bass but are in charge of finding the money that their mates lost for us five years ago and now we, for some reason, have to pay back even though WE DIDN'T FUCKING LOSE IT. Oh and there's more! Haven't a clue who we're actually paying back now. Usually you have a good idea of your debtors when they turn up at the door with baseball bats and a rottweiler. But we owe all our money to...goodness knows who! Don't imagine that the Coalition knows either. Especially as NO FUCKER VOTED FOR THEM.
Yes, this collection of well off, middle class morons are now the judge and jury of who gets what money where. Not that they're any good at the jobs they do, far too incompetent for that.
You get to be minister of work and pensions because you followed the Prime Minster into the toilets and wanked him off in such a way that the gobule of congealed semen in his knob was finally evacuated, hitting the ceiling with a satisfying plop. Do it again next year and you might be made Health secretary.
So a rich elite employ these scumbags to make the poor even more worse off...welcome to the wonderful world of human values.
Still old Iain Duncan Smith says that he could live on 53 pounds a week. The cunt won't though. And he wouldn't have the first fucking clue how to anyway, though his butler might have a vague notion. He used to be party leader...you can see how well that went...
Now they did say that this will encourage people back into work. Oh, there's jobs then are there? No, but it will get people off their books and it'll look better at the end of the year. Well, if it's going to get people back into work then the job I want is work and pensions secretary. No, make that Prime Minster. I have some great ideas where to get money. Asset-stripping Eton College would just be the start of it. If I fuck up, they're all doing that and getting huge pay-packets for it, so who'd notice?
Of course we should be realistic here. The world is no better than it was centuries ago, just the Elite are more likely to hide what they're doing now as they stop their unending quest to do us all to miserable deaths.
Does anyone care? Prime example of whether they do or not is if a facist is elected manager of a football team and surrounding humanity will then respond along the lines of:
"Aye, well I dunt mind if he's persecuting them fellas, just as long as we stay 8 points up in the championship...". Give 'em a big hand folks or a straight arm salute.
Urh. Gonna get back to hols now. Some folks said I don't have a patriotic bone in my body. Not so, I remember I went to a tropical island some time ago and was sitting on the beach, having a few cocktails when the local ladies volleyball team started practicing nearby. I can't remember what that island was called but I would have given my life for those girls, for those three hours or so. How patriotic can you get?
Bisson
Thursday, 28 March 2013
Not so much a turd, as a way of life
You think it's easy being Bisson? You think it's easy to sit here and write this unreasonable shit that you never bother your arse to read? Can you even conceive the amount of bad karma each word gets me here. No ya don't and you don't give a shit. Neither does the rest of the planet...but who are the heartless bastards then? Easy, you lot without a shadow of a doubt. I, at least, care.
As a dedicated follower of my own entrails as most a poet is wont to google...
Not really. I wouldn't even google an aflame nose snotter to find out where it is, to piss on it to put it out. Nah, tell you what it is, Ol' Bish is going to treat himself to a bit of quiet peaceful time over Easter to let his senses breathe again and find harmony. Don't worry, I'm sure you useless shower of heartless bastards will piss me off into writing again. It's the only thing you have a gift for.
Bit o'housekeeping before I take to my swimming pool...
I saw in the Daily Record some outrage about a female teacher having sex with a 17 year old male pupil. It was considered a scandal and it is a scandal! Not the shagging, but the bullshit moral outrage surrounding it. How dare the human race puff it's chest up and declare this to be wrong. Sex between two consenting adults? Yeah, shit one there.
Let me tell you this; if you morons continue to run about squawking about female teachers having sex with their male students then female teachers are LESS LIKELY to have sex with their male students. Fuck you! You are so bloody apathetic and let wars and economic collapse happen, but you'll only rouse yourselves for this kind of bollocks. Have you any idea how many hot female teachers there were at school and how ol' Bisson could have shown them a good time, which I have a talent for. I HATE seeing talent wasted. Yeah, because of you self-righteous fucks, they wanted to savour my talents but were too scared of being caught by the Daily Record. Bisson was a talented 17 year old pupil and very much wanted to fuck the hot female teachers in his school. But NOOOO, war is good, sex between teacher and consenting pupil 'baaad'.
Baaaaaa, why don't you fuck off you useless sheep and stop bleating pointlessly. Stop wasting talent with your bollocks. Stop your moralising crap, I'm trying to get laid here. Hot female teachers need a good seeing to!
I was speaking to Louis from Lisburn recently who felt my take on guns and gun nuts was unfair. America needs it's guns! You're right, Louis from Lisburn. Though I was just pointing out that without guns, the Yanks would be too bloody lazy to pull off the mass murders they commit every year and in the writing of the constitution, nobody saw the advent of automatic rifles. They proposed the right to bear arms concerning guns that stopped working in damp weather. Plus it wasn't in the original constitution, they had to amend it when they realised they hadn't covered everything first time around.
But that's old news and I agree I need a better argument. For you, dear Louis of Lisburn, here's a new proposal for the gun nutter problem;
Instead of banning guns and assault rifles, what you do instead is stop educating kids in the United States. Now, that sounds a very American solution, but in fact my idea is more complicated than that. What will be done is that ALL children in the United States leave the country and receive an education in other countries like the UK or Australia until the age of 18 when they have the right to return if they so wish. Not being in the U.S will keep them safe from nutcases with easy access to guns. Sure there are lunatics in other countries but they aren't able to get guns as easily; the sale is more restricted and the mentally unstable have a tough time getting their hands on guns outside the U.S. The kids will be taught in a safer environment and will return to the U.S with a fresh, more intelligent and less reactionary attitude. Outside America, this is easily attainable despite appearances.
Of course there will be blubbing. Many kids will be sad at having to go but at the same time are more adaptable to change than intransigent adults and will accept that their elders are too emotionally constipated about guns to raise and teach them properly and thus have forced this situation upon them. Any adults blubbing, well hey, you still have your guns don't you? What are you fucking crying for? Your kids are safe, they are far away from your non-existent gun laws. If you don't want to see your children sent overseas don't bloody have them in the first place! That will reduce the huge human population strain our finite planet is suffering under. When the kids do come back they will have a fresh attitude towards guns and finally some change will happen. Everybody wins.
I'm still not sure what we have guns for. We don't get attacked by other animals unless we go looking for them and to do that is just stupid. Alien invasion? Guns aren't going to be much use against beings who have the ability to travel faster than the speed of light. All I can think of is to protect ourselves from other humans, in which case we're fucked as a species. Of course we're not a species. We're more like a plague.
Anyway, going to let all you dozy cunts carry on this pointless and inevitable fall into nothingness, which is entirely self created. If an asteroid hits, the world will not end, but humans will cause the end of the world.
Time to rest, relax and put the feet up some. Sweet!
Bisson
As a dedicated follower of my own entrails as most a poet is wont to google...
Not really. I wouldn't even google an aflame nose snotter to find out where it is, to piss on it to put it out. Nah, tell you what it is, Ol' Bish is going to treat himself to a bit of quiet peaceful time over Easter to let his senses breathe again and find harmony. Don't worry, I'm sure you useless shower of heartless bastards will piss me off into writing again. It's the only thing you have a gift for.
Bit o'housekeeping before I take to my swimming pool...
I saw in the Daily Record some outrage about a female teacher having sex with a 17 year old male pupil. It was considered a scandal and it is a scandal! Not the shagging, but the bullshit moral outrage surrounding it. How dare the human race puff it's chest up and declare this to be wrong. Sex between two consenting adults? Yeah, shit one there.
Let me tell you this; if you morons continue to run about squawking about female teachers having sex with their male students then female teachers are LESS LIKELY to have sex with their male students. Fuck you! You are so bloody apathetic and let wars and economic collapse happen, but you'll only rouse yourselves for this kind of bollocks. Have you any idea how many hot female teachers there were at school and how ol' Bisson could have shown them a good time, which I have a talent for. I HATE seeing talent wasted. Yeah, because of you self-righteous fucks, they wanted to savour my talents but were too scared of being caught by the Daily Record. Bisson was a talented 17 year old pupil and very much wanted to fuck the hot female teachers in his school. But NOOOO, war is good, sex between teacher and consenting pupil 'baaad'.
Baaaaaa, why don't you fuck off you useless sheep and stop bleating pointlessly. Stop wasting talent with your bollocks. Stop your moralising crap, I'm trying to get laid here. Hot female teachers need a good seeing to!
I was speaking to Louis from Lisburn recently who felt my take on guns and gun nuts was unfair. America needs it's guns! You're right, Louis from Lisburn. Though I was just pointing out that without guns, the Yanks would be too bloody lazy to pull off the mass murders they commit every year and in the writing of the constitution, nobody saw the advent of automatic rifles. They proposed the right to bear arms concerning guns that stopped working in damp weather. Plus it wasn't in the original constitution, they had to amend it when they realised they hadn't covered everything first time around.
But that's old news and I agree I need a better argument. For you, dear Louis of Lisburn, here's a new proposal for the gun nutter problem;
Instead of banning guns and assault rifles, what you do instead is stop educating kids in the United States. Now, that sounds a very American solution, but in fact my idea is more complicated than that. What will be done is that ALL children in the United States leave the country and receive an education in other countries like the UK or Australia until the age of 18 when they have the right to return if they so wish. Not being in the U.S will keep them safe from nutcases with easy access to guns. Sure there are lunatics in other countries but they aren't able to get guns as easily; the sale is more restricted and the mentally unstable have a tough time getting their hands on guns outside the U.S. The kids will be taught in a safer environment and will return to the U.S with a fresh, more intelligent and less reactionary attitude. Outside America, this is easily attainable despite appearances.
Of course there will be blubbing. Many kids will be sad at having to go but at the same time are more adaptable to change than intransigent adults and will accept that their elders are too emotionally constipated about guns to raise and teach them properly and thus have forced this situation upon them. Any adults blubbing, well hey, you still have your guns don't you? What are you fucking crying for? Your kids are safe, they are far away from your non-existent gun laws. If you don't want to see your children sent overseas don't bloody have them in the first place! That will reduce the huge human population strain our finite planet is suffering under. When the kids do come back they will have a fresh attitude towards guns and finally some change will happen. Everybody wins.
I'm still not sure what we have guns for. We don't get attacked by other animals unless we go looking for them and to do that is just stupid. Alien invasion? Guns aren't going to be much use against beings who have the ability to travel faster than the speed of light. All I can think of is to protect ourselves from other humans, in which case we're fucked as a species. Of course we're not a species. We're more like a plague.
Anyway, going to let all you dozy cunts carry on this pointless and inevitable fall into nothingness, which is entirely self created. If an asteroid hits, the world will not end, but humans will cause the end of the world.
Time to rest, relax and put the feet up some. Sweet!
Bisson
Thursday, 14 March 2013
Ach-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha!
Who loves the sun? Well I don't see it out today, motherfucker.
Belfast has become the bide-a-wee refuge for waifs of a disagreeable manner according to a last Banana of mine. I'll admit I threw my toys out of the pram something proper and howled more like a nappy wearing wee shit when there was no-one there to pick them up. The cure for all hurt and sobbing feelings is to wind your neck in, here in Belfast. Fuck if only Freud had lived here. He could have just told all the emotionally hurt and mentally disturbed persons he tried to heal, to 'wind their necks in' and saved himself hours of work. The last word in caring and compassion. Actually that's only the second last. The real last word here is to 'go fuck yourself.' We care, we really do.
In fact after my howl, one pal who had sought greener fields outside of the city got in touch. Why have we left Bisson he said. Have you checked your deodorant recently? Ah, no I haven't and when I did...oh, fuck me!
That said unpleasant smells have much use in the political and financial sector. With my stench there could be a revolution coming on. Not now though, I wanna shower.
But this ain't why I called you here today, my dear, devoted fuckwits. I'm here to name and shame a vile seam in our pretty Abounding amongst those who live in Ballfast or applied for cityside admission many moons back when is the human form known as the 'Trendy'.
We've covered this before or mentioned it, but I figgered a bit of clarification was needed to properly understand this creature.
What is a trendy?! Well a trendy can be, as said a town or country person. Bah...Who also fancies themselves as a poet, artist, musician, liberal ecologist...Aw fuck! Eurgh, I'd rather have gonorrhea!
Now just the job description is bad enough, but there's more. The trendy finds themselves a stance and poses in a very cool, yet very caring way as they do in all aspects of their life. They bring you love. Except when you don't quite match their standards and then they cold shoulder you and would leave you to die in the outer darkness, if you were dying and they had some outer darkness.
Is this a crime? No it is a way of life for many, many, many people in this six county dump masquerading as a political enigma. Those you will meet are but a few of thousands of trendbots, ready to envelop all existence as we know it, like a new spring range at GAP.
Here's another example of the trendy nature. Firefly...or Serenity...or Serene Firefly or whatever the fuck you call it. Well it was a sci-fi show by Joss Whedon (oh help!) who had done the 'with-it'* and unfunny 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and was now doing the with-it but unfunny and rather quite incomprehensible bollocks show set on the good ship 'Firefly'...or 'Serenity'...or Whateverthefuck...and the people on it were the last hope of something which was hopeless but now had hope in the face of something which didn't exist which is hopeful in itself but really quite hopeless. Anyway the show was cancelled and the lead guy went on to a better pay check in a show that wouldn't get cancelled for being a load of wank.
Ah so fucking wot you say and you're right. But the trendies found this show on whatever late night channel was pimping it out to a late night hospital audience or whatever. They found it and instantly saw the brilliance in it that had escaped everyone else. It became their cult show, the obscure thing that they were clever enough to find. Except that all the trendies had to know about it so it wasn't that obscure anymore. And when it got axed they had something to bemoan the loss of, show how much better their judgement was compared to the TV people and ring their hands in memory of what could have been. A bunch of pretentious fucks flying around space in a load of pretentious gobbledegook? Ohh the possibilities! Maybe the big appeal was they did a lot of recycling onboard and exciting missions where they cancelled Third World Debt on Neptune.
What could be worse? Thanks to trendies, Kings of Leon have an audience and their horrible, shitty music is piped around the place to torment the rest of us. Without trendies there would be no Starbucks. Apple Mac would be an obscure company that operated way back in the 80s. Ashton Kutcher would have no career. Trendies have given so much to make the world a gloomier place and therefore we have much to despise the fucking assholes for. And yet they are the majority, the ones we seek vindication from. When really we shouldn't.
The trendies and all their associated sychophants will no doubt turn their backs to all you who disagree and seek to puncture their egos. But then think about it. Not really that bad a thing...World still turning? Check. Loads of cool wonderful things in life to charm the senses. Check. Yep, sorry trendies, you and your moronic opinions, it turns out, aren't actually needed here. We manage just fine without you. Fuck off then.
Bisson
* 'With-it'. Def: Attempt to be cool and completely knowing in what your doing, when in fact all you are producing is a load of cunt.
Belfast has become the bide-a-wee refuge for waifs of a disagreeable manner according to a last Banana of mine. I'll admit I threw my toys out of the pram something proper and howled more like a nappy wearing wee shit when there was no-one there to pick them up. The cure for all hurt and sobbing feelings is to wind your neck in, here in Belfast. Fuck if only Freud had lived here. He could have just told all the emotionally hurt and mentally disturbed persons he tried to heal, to 'wind their necks in' and saved himself hours of work. The last word in caring and compassion. Actually that's only the second last. The real last word here is to 'go fuck yourself.' We care, we really do.
In fact after my howl, one pal who had sought greener fields outside of the city got in touch. Why have we left Bisson he said. Have you checked your deodorant recently? Ah, no I haven't and when I did...oh, fuck me!
That said unpleasant smells have much use in the political and financial sector. With my stench there could be a revolution coming on. Not now though, I wanna shower.
But this ain't why I called you here today, my dear, devoted fuckwits. I'm here to name and shame a vile seam in our pretty Abounding amongst those who live in Ballfast or applied for cityside admission many moons back when is the human form known as the 'Trendy'.
We've covered this before or mentioned it, but I figgered a bit of clarification was needed to properly understand this creature.
What is a trendy?! Well a trendy can be, as said a town or country person. Bah...Who also fancies themselves as a poet, artist, musician, liberal ecologist...Aw fuck! Eurgh, I'd rather have gonorrhea!
Now just the job description is bad enough, but there's more. The trendy finds themselves a stance and poses in a very cool, yet very caring way as they do in all aspects of their life. They bring you love. Except when you don't quite match their standards and then they cold shoulder you and would leave you to die in the outer darkness, if you were dying and they had some outer darkness.
Is this a crime? No it is a way of life for many, many, many people in this six county dump masquerading as a political enigma. Those you will meet are but a few of thousands of trendbots, ready to envelop all existence as we know it, like a new spring range at GAP.
Here's another example of the trendy nature. Firefly...or Serenity...or Serene Firefly or whatever the fuck you call it. Well it was a sci-fi show by Joss Whedon (oh help!) who had done the 'with-it'* and unfunny 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and was now doing the with-it but unfunny and rather quite incomprehensible bollocks show set on the good ship 'Firefly'...or 'Serenity'...or Whateverthefuck...and the people on it were the last hope of something which was hopeless but now had hope in the face of something which didn't exist which is hopeful in itself but really quite hopeless. Anyway the show was cancelled and the lead guy went on to a better pay check in a show that wouldn't get cancelled for being a load of wank.
Ah so fucking wot you say and you're right. But the trendies found this show on whatever late night channel was pimping it out to a late night hospital audience or whatever. They found it and instantly saw the brilliance in it that had escaped everyone else. It became their cult show, the obscure thing that they were clever enough to find. Except that all the trendies had to know about it so it wasn't that obscure anymore. And when it got axed they had something to bemoan the loss of, show how much better their judgement was compared to the TV people and ring their hands in memory of what could have been. A bunch of pretentious fucks flying around space in a load of pretentious gobbledegook? Ohh the possibilities! Maybe the big appeal was they did a lot of recycling onboard and exciting missions where they cancelled Third World Debt on Neptune.
What could be worse? Thanks to trendies, Kings of Leon have an audience and their horrible, shitty music is piped around the place to torment the rest of us. Without trendies there would be no Starbucks. Apple Mac would be an obscure company that operated way back in the 80s. Ashton Kutcher would have no career. Trendies have given so much to make the world a gloomier place and therefore we have much to despise the fucking assholes for. And yet they are the majority, the ones we seek vindication from. When really we shouldn't.
The trendies and all their associated sychophants will no doubt turn their backs to all you who disagree and seek to puncture their egos. But then think about it. Not really that bad a thing...World still turning? Check. Loads of cool wonderful things in life to charm the senses. Check. Yep, sorry trendies, you and your moronic opinions, it turns out, aren't actually needed here. We manage just fine without you. Fuck off then.
Bisson
* 'With-it'. Def: Attempt to be cool and completely knowing in what your doing, when in fact all you are producing is a load of cunt.
This is Horseshit!
Y' know I want to have a gander at a subject that has been referenced, touched upon, shouted hopelessly at in the dark vastness of night and created much bad vibes and karma and yet has come to have an all important need to be dispelled for the dangers it presents to those who believe in it, the general waste of time it represents and the fact that on all levels it is bollocks.
I of course refer to what a woman wants in a man. As a civilian Leo, my ego permits me not to lie down and accept this state of affairs as it is. The wounded leonine will claw at that which pains it, but knows well enough to strike at the falsehood, not the effect. But enough of this high-falutin' as I never moved beyond miming on the recorder, never mind the flute, well...
What do women want? Well, ignore all the stuff you've been told over the years about women wanting poets, musicians or artists. Nevermind that they want somebody sensitive, that particular load of old stale tripe got shot down decades ago. No, artistic types are all really keen for a while but you wouldn't bet the rest of your life on them. The handsome, cold shoulder types last a bit longer but unless they're prepared to give up on this artistic nonsense, well, where's the security eh? Where's the love? Love is all around us, you just won't find it in relationships.That is the falsehood there.
Hang on let's shake it up here so we're all sitting a bit more uncomfortably. How about a dose of 100% reality amongst all the fiction and bollocks which I have made up...well, nearly reality. Gives the appearance of reality there...
As much as I complain about women's choices in terms of the male heffalumps they go for...True on many occasions there is the pained cry of "Yikes!! Him????!!!!"
But there are things to be borne in mind. Firstly, we all have this perfect image of ourselves until proven spotty and 'orrible. In civilian life I am no exception. In that case, mine is 10 x 10; ten stone lighter and ten years younger. So it is quite a shock when I look in a mirror...
"Augh!! It's one of those fat bastard slobs who steal all the great women!!"
It is only after I have punched this overweight slob and stare uncomprehendingly at my splintered knuckle that any sort of realisation sets in...
Having a good civilian memory for certain things hurts as well. The slights you remember as if they just happened. So sharp and real, it tends to be:
"Mutter, grumble, unfair..."
Which needs and indeed should be followed by:
"Dude! That was ten fucking years ago!"
"Actually it was 20, leave me alone...Sniff."
Heh.
Selective civilian memory is where YOU forget the bits where YOU fucked up.
"I did that?! What a dick! I don't remember...ah well."
Then 2 minutes later, the civilian turns and it's:
"How cruel the women are to a sweet guy like me. Fucking...misogynist rant and etc, etc."
Of course it is so cruel to yew, civilian Bisson. You and Pol Pot just never got the breaks eh?
So I'm a cyber dick and a civilian dick. What a catch! Why are the good ones still single?
In my defense, my QC crys: "Ah but he has a bit of zip to him though! Poet, interplanetary dreamer..."
Yeah. Not the sort of guy to go around Tile Market on a Saturday though or raise a kid or converse politely in polite company about polite things. Not really stable, reliable, improving or growing...all the sort of schnizzle women need. That is why they go for the guys with the pronounced eyebrows who moo at the TV.
Dopes then? Yeah but you can RELY on them! 100% guaranteed sperm donor and shopping assistants. The final word in 'lady-nip'.
Raising kids? My idea of that is to tie a kid to a flagpole and raise it to the top where it's out of the way and not bugging me. Child protection and the feminine population would not appreciate this in the slightest, though I might be in with the chance of pulling a fleg protester with that one.
Yes, for the civilian as Frank Zappa so acutely observed; as you try to impress them with your interplanetary dreaming, you will be easily overtaken in the dating stakes by the dope who goes 'Moo'.
Frank put it much better though. Basic lesson is the same as in true.
So are we all learning anything? Probably. Maybe the lesson we can take today is put neither gender on a pedestal. Men and women are equally fucked up. Heh!
Bisson
I of course refer to what a woman wants in a man. As a civilian Leo, my ego permits me not to lie down and accept this state of affairs as it is. The wounded leonine will claw at that which pains it, but knows well enough to strike at the falsehood, not the effect. But enough of this high-falutin' as I never moved beyond miming on the recorder, never mind the flute, well...
What do women want? Well, ignore all the stuff you've been told over the years about women wanting poets, musicians or artists. Nevermind that they want somebody sensitive, that particular load of old stale tripe got shot down decades ago. No, artistic types are all really keen for a while but you wouldn't bet the rest of your life on them. The handsome, cold shoulder types last a bit longer but unless they're prepared to give up on this artistic nonsense, well, where's the security eh? Where's the love? Love is all around us, you just won't find it in relationships.That is the falsehood there.
Hang on let's shake it up here so we're all sitting a bit more uncomfortably. How about a dose of 100% reality amongst all the fiction and bollocks which I have made up...well, nearly reality. Gives the appearance of reality there...
As much as I complain about women's choices in terms of the male heffalumps they go for...True on many occasions there is the pained cry of "Yikes!! Him????!!!!"
But there are things to be borne in mind. Firstly, we all have this perfect image of ourselves until proven spotty and 'orrible. In civilian life I am no exception. In that case, mine is 10 x 10; ten stone lighter and ten years younger. So it is quite a shock when I look in a mirror...
"Augh!! It's one of those fat bastard slobs who steal all the great women!!"
It is only after I have punched this overweight slob and stare uncomprehendingly at my splintered knuckle that any sort of realisation sets in...
Having a good civilian memory for certain things hurts as well. The slights you remember as if they just happened. So sharp and real, it tends to be:
"Mutter, grumble, unfair..."
Which needs and indeed should be followed by:
"Dude! That was ten fucking years ago!"
"Actually it was 20, leave me alone...Sniff."
Heh.
Selective civilian memory is where YOU forget the bits where YOU fucked up.
"I did that?! What a dick! I don't remember...ah well."
Then 2 minutes later, the civilian turns and it's:
"How cruel the women are to a sweet guy like me. Fucking...misogynist rant and etc, etc."
Of course it is so cruel to yew, civilian Bisson. You and Pol Pot just never got the breaks eh?
So I'm a cyber dick and a civilian dick. What a catch! Why are the good ones still single?
In my defense, my QC crys: "Ah but he has a bit of zip to him though! Poet, interplanetary dreamer..."
Yeah. Not the sort of guy to go around Tile Market on a Saturday though or raise a kid or converse politely in polite company about polite things. Not really stable, reliable, improving or growing...all the sort of schnizzle women need. That is why they go for the guys with the pronounced eyebrows who moo at the TV.
Dopes then? Yeah but you can RELY on them! 100% guaranteed sperm donor and shopping assistants. The final word in 'lady-nip'.
Raising kids? My idea of that is to tie a kid to a flagpole and raise it to the top where it's out of the way and not bugging me. Child protection and the feminine population would not appreciate this in the slightest, though I might be in with the chance of pulling a fleg protester with that one.
Yes, for the civilian as Frank Zappa so acutely observed; as you try to impress them with your interplanetary dreaming, you will be easily overtaken in the dating stakes by the dope who goes 'Moo'.
Frank put it much better though. Basic lesson is the same as in true.
So are we all learning anything? Probably. Maybe the lesson we can take today is put neither gender on a pedestal. Men and women are equally fucked up. Heh!
Bisson
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