Two boobs good, four boobs better

What’s hot

Jennifer Ellison

What ever happened to Jennifer?  Once upon a time she was in every lads mag around, and calendars and less than reputable websites that would feature “genuine” nude pictures of her.  Now she’s starring in washing powder adverts trying to understand why another former soap actor has bumped uglies with her sister and her ma.  I’d say it’s to do with the fact that there’s probably a strong family resemblance.  Put it this way, if her brother and her da looked like her, they’d be in trouble too.

Come back Jen!

Holding up queues

Sure, being in a queue that doesn’t move is more frustrating than a screaming hot bisexual nun.  But being the one holding the queue up gives me a horn I could bludgeon a lion and a grizzly bear to death with.

It actually nearly pushes me over the edge to hear sighs from behind when I say “Oh, and while I’m here…”

Rainbows

What’s that?  I can hear Paddy making some kind of homosexual joke right now.  But I’m not talking about the majestic colours and romantic feeling in the air when one appears.  I smile inside thinking about a little leprechaun hiding at the end of it with his crock of gold that he won’t share with anyone, like an Anglo banker.  Then I ponder.  Sure, he’s rich but is he truly happy?

Living in a house made of majestic colours and romantic feelings, who wouldn’t, right?

Pete Versus Life

If you haven’t yet caught onto this gem of a sitcom, you should.  It’s just brilliant.  It’s the best comedy on Channel 4 since Father Ted.  And no, we haven’t been told by some PR company to plug it, I think it’s genuinely mega and have it on a Sky reminder.  You should too.

If you have the time, sit back and catch the entire first episode, HERE.  If you’re not sold I’ll eat my left nut.

What’s not

That fucking Polar bear freezer pervert

We usually give a few different things that are not hot in these things, but there’s just the one this week.

One so mind numbingly cuntish that it deserves to be in the “not” bit all on its own.

Here are a few things I’d do if I found a talking stuffed polar bear in my freezer waiting to berate me for not buying over priced Birdseye products:

• Calmly take him from the freezer and stick him head first into my preheated oven along with my Lidl fish fingers
• Sell him on the Russian black market.  A normal performing bear is one thing, but a talking polar bear with an apparent degree in nutrition?  Gold.
• Rip his fucking head off, turn the cunt inside out and use him for lining in the cat litter tray

A bit much?

I don’t think so.

It’s like the marketing department of Birdseye finally realising that a pedo boat captain isn’t selling us shit.  Then they figure they can just tell us that because we copped on long ago that they sell us shite for the privilege of paying through the nose because of their high advertising budgets just like this and refuse to give them any more money that we’re cunts?

Get ta fuck and then get ta fuck again you horrible sound like a sex pest who’d have his hands down his pants while molesting a bag of frozen peas soon to be extinct thanks to me leaving the water running when I brush my teeth wank bag.

Get ta fuck all over again.

I need some more Jennifer Ellison to cheer me up again.

That’s better.

Thankfully, the 80′s revival is on it’s last legs.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved the nostalgia factor as much as the next man but enough is enough.

Ireland’s biggest and best 90′s band, Pump Up The Jam, agree and together with Boob.ie, they are offering a lucky reader 2 complimentary tickets to “Pump Fiction”, their Pulp Fiction themed night on the 25th of September in The Sugar Club located on Dublin’s Leeson Street.

This promises to be a balls-out fantastic night, kicking off with 90′s Karaoke at 9pm, followed by a “Jack Rabbit Slims Twist Contest” and then topped off with a fantastic live performance by none other than Pump Up The Jam themselves.  And if you still aren’t satisfied (you greedy bastards) then there is a DJ on afterward who’ll play 90′s music into the wee hours to keep you happy!

For any of you who have never seen Pump Up The Jam live, you don’t know what you are missing.  I was at their Baywatch themed night last month and it felt like I was right back in my local disco lined up against the wall, trying to pluck up the courage to ask a girl to “meet” me.  Great crowd, great music and a great venue.  What more could you ask for?

Some of you stupid fuckers paid in or around ONE HUNDRED Euro to see Guns ‘n’ Roses as a nostalgic trip down memory lane.  Hang your head in shame!  Pump Up The Jam are the ULTIMATE nostalgia trip bar none!

The band cover all of your favourite 90′s classics and you could easily be mistaken to think that you are listening to a CD.  They really are that damn good.   From 2 Unlimited to MC Hammer, it’s all there and it’s still as fucking excellent/cheesy/rocking as you remember.

So dust off your Eclipse Jeans, Gore-Tex and Naff Jackets get down to the Sugar Club on the 25th.  Tickets are a steal at 10 Euro or if you want to immerse yourself in the spirit of the “Pump Ficton” night, you can dress up like a Pulp Fiction character and get in half price!!!!  So there is no excuse to not join the boob.ie crew and pump the fuck out of the jam!!

To be in with a chance to win two complimentary tickets, just add a comment underneath this article, or on our Facebook Page telling us what your favourite 90′s lyric is and why!!!  The most original/funny comment will pick up the prize.

It couldn’t be more simple!

HOT: The Return of the Premiership

After a hugely disappointing World Cup, the premiership is back with a vengence.  Already we have had four 6-0 victories and the usual suspects are leading the group.  As always, it will be December before we really can take notice of the league tables, but ominously, Chelsea are looking dominant.

The transfer deadline is fast approaching and there will be undoubtably a few surprise signings as the managers try desperately to tinker with their ensemble cast of overpaid, dogging, serial rapists.

And the fact that Liverpool are still shit makes it even better.

NOT: Shit “Reality” Television Dominating The Media

The phrase “When it rains, it pours” is not just applicable to the floods in Pakistan this week.  We had the return of the X-Factor, the build up to the finale of Big Brother.  You couldn’t pick up a paper or turn on the telly without being informed of every miniscule detail of a day in the life of some attention seeking fucktard.   Sadly, I do actually watch these shows, but with every viewing, a little bit of my, already dimished, self respect disappears.

Big Brother started as an interesting concept.  Part social experiment, part voyeurism, it was fresh and intreiging. Sadly, that was 10 years ago.   Now it is a vehicle for “KRAZY” so-called individuals, so desperate for a glimmer of fame and a feature in OK magazine, that they are willing to prostitute themselves under the guise of being “up for anything”.  Big Brother dies this year, and I for one, will not be mourning.

The X-Factor came back to our screens, surrounded by controversy.  “Louis Walsh Threatens to Quit” barked the Irish Mirror, “Cheryl Collapses” howled the Irish Sun but the most recent and laughable story was the revelation that, SHOCK, HORROR,…..sometimes the contestants voices are altered to suit whatever Herr Cowell decides he wants the public to think.  The only shocking thing about this news story is the fact that the media thinks that we are unaware that the winner is predetermined before the show airs.  You have to admire Simon Cowell, but only in the same way that you admire Hitler.

HOT: It’s Back to School Time!!

It’s that time of the year that strikes dread into anyone under the age of 16.  You can’t walk though any shopping centre or any town without seeing “BACK TO SCHOOL” emblazoned in 4 foot high writing in every window.  Nothing could be more terrifying to a child (other than maybe a picture of Fritzel holding Fred West’s knob while he’s bumming Barney the dinosaur who has a speach bubble proclaiming Santa isn’t real)

Those little bastards have 3 months off for summer, no rent, no bills, not a care in the world.  Except school.  And now it’s back.  Not so fucking chirpy now are you, you little bastards!

NOT: The Recession Obsession

It’s been a couple of years now since we were all told that we are all doomed.  We get it!  Nobody has money, nobody has a job and we are all fucked.  Grand!  Let us get on with it and please shut the fuck up about it.

We’re being told now that Ireland’s credit rating has been downgraded, Anglo Irish are being opposed by the Green Party and NAMA is crippling our economy.  I might be showing my ignorance but I have no idea about what all that actually means to me.  I am trying to be interested but genuinely I dont really understand.

During the Celtic Tiger, I didn’t have a pot to piss in.  When the downturn began, I didn’t have a pot to piss in and now, during the recession, guess what?  I still don’t have a pot to piss in.  I just wish to fuck that people would shut up about it unless they have a solution to the problem.

It’s like being in hospital with a terminal disease and the doctors coming into you every day and saying “Hello Mr Dunne, I just want to remind you, you are dying, and you are slightly worse off today than you were yesterday”.

Shut the fuck up.

HOT: 90′s Revival

10 years ago, we had the 70′s revival, where every nighclub or concert had a Disco theme, films like Boogie Nights were feeding the nostalgia and Flares and big collars were all the rage.  Then in the last couple of years, we had an 80′s revival where we all allowed the most horrific fashions and music to rear their ugly dayglow couloured heads and take over every facet of our lives. 

Sure, I got caught up in both of these nostalgic periods but as I was only born in 1981, I could never fully appreciate them as I never lived through them.   But now, finally we are embracing a time that I can relate to.

It makes me a little sad that my teenage years are now classed as RETRO but fuck it, I made a right bollocks of them first time around, it’s nice to have a second go.  There are a couple of upcoming 90′s night around Dublin and we here at Boob.ie (and by “we”, I mean “me”) are championing the 90′s revival.

Stay tuned to this site for upcoming competitions where we will be inviting you to throw on your two tone eclipse jeans, scanda jackets and boiler suits and dance like drug addled chimps to the best tunes ever!!!

NOT: Ryanair

I would like to reiterate what my colleague said here: http://boob.ie/2010/08/man-facts-10/

It’s a mess of an airline really.  It’s a great idea but genuinely, they couldn’t give a fuck about their customers.  I will continue to use them but only cos I am a cheap bastard but I will never have a good thing to say about them.

And it is because hundreds of thousands of punters are as stupid and as pikey as me and share my attitude, that Michael O’Leary and Ryanair will continue to smile smugly and spit on our backs as they fuck us roughly up the arse.

With no lube.

HOT: THORPE PARK

I’m not going to go into complete detail about my love for Thorpe Park.  There will be a full and detailed recap of Boob.ie’s weekend of debauchery that included beers, tears, cheerleaders and rollercoasters.

But if you haven’t been to Thorpe Park yet, you don’t know what you are missing!

Not: Trying to Lose Weight

Why are all the nice foods fattening??  I used to be a skinny little runt when I was growing up.  When I was in my mid-teens, I used be a ridiculously skinny 25 inch waist.  Then all of a sudden, when I hit my early-mid twenties, overnight, I became this blubbery quivering mess.

I love beer.  I absolutely adore it.  I love takeaways too.  But these two bastards are the main reasons I am the way I am.   I need to exercise and I need to stop drinking and eating crap.  It’s a shit state of affairs but it needs to happen.

It’s a simple equasion though.  Use more calories than you put in your body.  Sounds so fucking simple doesn’t it.  Eat healthy and exercise.  Can the average bloke like me or you do it?  That’s what I am going to find out.

Starting on the 7th of September, for the sake of the readers of Boob.ie, I will go against every instinct I possess and will begin a month long trial, seeing if I can lose weight and tone up.  I will be either cutting down on all my favourite vices and reporting in every couple of days to let you know what the update is.  And believe me, if I manage this, then any one of you fuckers can do it.

So that’s my little recap of what has been floating my boat and indeed, sinking my battleship this week.

If you want me to include something in next week’s edition, either drop a comment below, go over to our forum or email me at paddy@boob.ie and let me know what’s tickling your fancy

What’s hot

Hot Goth Chicks

Nothing is hotter than a girl with dark eye make up on, boob tattoos and more piercings than a side show nipple.

Ok, so they’re probably Emo chicks and we don’t really know the difference.  Apart from maybe that true goths are goths because they’re uglier than Mary Hearny’s soul.

If they be emo or alt or whatever, we salute them.

Grrrrrrr-uffff!

Limbo

We reviewed this game last week.  We’ve been playing it ever since.  It’s creepy and scary and the most addictive thing we tried since heroin.  Download the free trial on Xbox live and you’ll be hooked.

Plus it’s kind of satisfying watching the little dude die in so many creative ways.  Like our Cucipher told you, put down MW2 and grab this one.

Belly button smell

You know you’re due a shower, your crotch is getting a little slimy.  But you know that satisfying way you have of unwinding after a hard day in front of the tv and scratching out the contents of your belly button?  We know it’s not just us.  You’ll find the usual bits of fluff and gritty stuff you can’t explain.  But what is up with that smell?  You should be repulsed, but it’s so epic in its epicness that you just have to grin a big grin of manly achievement.

Be warned though, pick your nose after without having washed your hands and you’ll be smelling that epicness until your brain blocks it out like the worker of a pig slaughter house.

Giving stuff up

Whether it’s smoking or looking at jailbait through your shades as you stroll through the shopping center, there’s no better way to feel good about yourself.  You’ve conquered something that had control over you, or could have sent you on a register.  Either way, now that you’re off the fags and you’ve bought a white stick to stop people commenting on your wandering eyes, you’re a better and happier man because of it.

What’s not

Proper goths

No real person friend having, greasy hair having, Temple Bar clogging up on a Saturday afternoon doing, sulking around like the world is your problem noncing cunts.

Get ta fuck, we’d rather have a fake goth emo round for a cuppa anytime.  In fact we’d rather have a ginger colony round for tea and biccies instead of you.

Do one.

Spamming

Other “Irish Men’s sites” trolling forums and boards posing as random people looking for opinions of the “new site they just came across”.

Have some self respect.

The New Scrubs

Ok so it wasn’t mega brilliant to begin with, but now that they have no Janitor and they’ve just gotten rid of Ted it’s lost all appeal.  JD and Dr Cox will be on their bikes pretty soon too.  On the plus side they got rid of Carla.  Still, it’s like when Saved by the Bell went to college.  Just sad.  We weren’t angry just disappointed.  Like a foster parent with a gimpy kid.

Incest

For no other reason than I don’t have a sister and all my decent looking cousins are all getting married off.

Fuck.  Sake.

What’s hot

Underboob

There are many ways to enjoy the humble cleavage.  Whether it’s a straight on sly look at what’s in front of you.  The side boob of some hot dudette on a beach in a bikini.  Of course the underboob is something that most of us will never experience out in the real world.

I did this week.

It was the old lady who runs the local newsagents and I caught an eyeful when she was up on her step ladder getting me some bonbons.

Maybe it’s better that underboob is confined to special occasions.

Candwiches

Think a prepacked sandwich from the coffee shop just isn’t convenient enough?  Maybe you need your sandwiches to have a longer shelf life?  Maybe you need to stock your nuclear bunker?  If you answered yes to any of these questions then the Candwich is for you.

So is sitting on the toilet to void your bowels of everything you’ve eaten in all past lives too.  But it’s a small price to pay for being able to tell your grandkids that you once at a sandwich that came from a can.  You’ll be a legend.

Lasandwiches

Never mind a candwich, get yourself the new lasagne sandwich from Tesco!  It’s aimed at students apparently but given the kind of shite that we lot shovel into our mouths when we’ve a few on us, we can’t really blame them for at least trying to sell this to us.  It’s got more fat per serving than a sniff of Mary Hearny’s g string, but let’s face it if lasagne on a sandwich is what you’re after you won’t be giving a shite about that.  Next up we’d love to see crisp sandwiches, pot noodle sandwiches and mashed potato wraps.

Living healthy is for the weak.

Jobs with hot chicks

Not many jobs to be had out there these days.  You could get a summer job on a bog somewhere for 20p an hour and all the red lemonade and custard cremes you can gorge on, but it wouldn’t exactly make you leap out of bed with anticipation of your day ahead.

These jobs might though.

All the usual jobs are there that you’d expect to be surrounded by hot girls in.  There is one missing though and I’m pretty sure that I saw it on a job site somewhere – “Discerning and picky gynaecologist with extremely high standards wanted”.

My CV is on the way already.

What’s not

Muffin Top

Girls, we love you in all shapes and sizes, we really do.  But for the love of Jaysus, whatever your size, wear the right clothes.  There’s nothing worse than seeing a sexy lady, no matter the size, squeched into clothes that a Bratz doll would feel are a little tight.

Before you call us sexist, it also goes for men.  Sitting on your front porch in nothing but a vest with your belly hanging out is no good either.

Earwigs

Despite what the internet tells me about these things, I’m not convinced.  They say that earwigs live in damp areas outside the home.  Bollocks I had one crawling all over my arm last night before I knew what it was.

I know they crawl into your ears when you sleep and eat your brains like zombies of the insect world.  Plus they have that freaky fork thing that they stick up in the air like they’re waving their mickey at you in defiance.  Get ta fuck.

Kids off school

Can’t go anywhere during the summer without being bombarded with sniffling, whinging kids.  I used to enjoy going to places, now I can’t go anywhere without hearing over compensating parents in the supermarket asking little Fintan and Soairse what they’d like for dinner.

“Chicken bourguignon Daddy, with the garlic French beans”

Get ta fuck you little cunt.  When I was your age I was crying at the checkout because me ma wouldn’t get me Jelly tots or a Curly Wurly.

Get ta fuck back to school.

What’s hot

kayden Kross moonlights as a French Maid, sometimes

Kayden Kross

Done more porn films than I could watch in a month of Sunday’s.  Although that wouldn’t stop me giving it a go.

Watching her having to keep her job as a French Maid by noshing her boss off is probably against some kind of labour laws in this and most countries.  But you could always say that she was bent over without any knickers on if you found yourself in a tribunal.

And if the judge was also a hot lady type person, you might be able to convince her to take you and your maid in to her chambers for a stiff talking to.

Actually, stuff the month of Sunday’s lark, I’m off to give myself some friction burn.

So in the words of the internet youngsters these days,

fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap fap SSSPLUUUUUUUURRRRT

Pranks that get everyone

We love it when national radio programmes, celebrity Twitter and Facebook accounts are nearly creaming themselves to the thought that yesterday was the day that Doc Brown and Marty travelled to their future in.

It was a hoax, and made even better when some people declared “It must be true, I’ve seen that film more times than I’ve fed my children”.

They didn’t travel to July 6the 2010.  They travelled to October 26 2015.  Even we knew that and we’ve only seen the film about 120 times.

Suckers.

Watching a parent finally snap

“Mammy I want some sweets!”

“No not today, sweetheart”

“But MAAAAMMMYYY!”

“No darling, maybe tomorrow”

“MMAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMYYYY!”

“Stop being silly, we have to go now”

“I WANT SWEETS”

*Mammy bends down to whisper in the ear of the child, we all know that threat of father getting home is being issued*

*Kid is having none of this nonsense*

“NO!  I don’t care – I WANT SWEETS NOOOOOOWWW!”

*Mammy proceeds to slap the arse and back of the legs off of the child in only the way a stressed to the max Mammy can.*

*All witnesses rejoice*

I have to say though if it was my child I’d have given it a back of the hand with a triumphant “Shoruken!”  Then I’d buy the Jelly Tots he was after and nyom them myself.

What’s not

Compo ads

I got compo because the bear I was fighting didn't tell me he was a bear

You know the ones, they usually come on during Jeremy Kyle or Ready Steady Cook and tell people that they can sue because of their own stupidity.

“I was walking down a stair way made of ice and motor oil while carrying an open basket of live Piranha’s.  I slipped on the motor oil and slid down the rest of the ice stairs like a bob sledding team under the supervision of John Candy and then the vicious fishes gnawed my scrotum and nose off.

I got 23 trillion pounds and all I had to do was call some injury lawyers and exaggerate my injuries while saying that absolutely none of it was my fault.

Not only were my legal fees also paid, but now my employer has to train people properly how to carry live carnivorous fish down a tricky to negotiate stair well.

Score.”

Get ta fuck you ‘orrible cunts.  If someone asked me to carry a basket of flesh eating fish down a slippery stair way, I know what I’d tell them.

Cookery programs

Simple recipes?  Stuff you’ve got lying around the cupboards?

I don’t have sushi rice and seaweed rolls lying around the house and how come even though you don’t cook sushi, my kitchen looks like a bomb had a bukakke party and is a little bit on fire?

Oh, and you might want to mention in your little program that you have a team of immigrant cleaners to pick up after you.  In the meantime we’re left scrubbing the kitchen when all we really wanted to do in the first place was have some spaghetti hoops on toast.

This is why we eat Pot Noodles before having a wank to Nigella.  It’s just easier and much more satisfying.

What’s hot

Keeley Hazell

I mean, just look at her.  Lad’s mag fave Keeley is by far one of the sexiest woman around today.

If I was ever stuck in a lift with Keeley, the Gardaí would have to be waiting outside with the rescue crew with a pen and the sex offender register for me to sign.  No messing about, just sign it and head door to door with a smile on my face to inform the neighbours that I was a dirtbird.

You would too.

Mandles

Found these things on Firebox.  Candles that a man can have burning in his pad without fear of giving the impression he’s on the prowl for penis.

They come in Corona, Corona Light (if you are on the prowl for penis), Carlsberg and Sol.  Recycled from old beer bottles and scented with Lemon and Thyme to take the smell of feet and self loathing out of your gaff.

Good times.

Cheap sweets

Remember being on your way home from school with the 50p your parents had given you for a new copy buke and a pencil?  It never got spent on stationary.  Heading to the local newsagents to get a handful of 10p Mint Crisp, Macaroon and Kalypso toffee bars.  You could also opt for the Dan bar, Wham bar, Roy of the Rovers or a Refresher bar.  Genius

How much are they now?  A fuck load more than 10p.  And if you’re not old enough to remember old money then you don’t know what we’re talking about.  Which means that if you ever have one of the above artificial treats you’ll probably explode in a flurry of ADD hyperness.

You have to try it.

Shouting at the tv

“DON’T GO IN THERE YOU’LL GET YOUR FACE EATEN OFF BY THE EVIL MONSTER!”

But you know what?  They’ll still go in there and act all surprised when their face is chewed off by the evil monster.

“DON’T GET IN THE CAR WITH HIM, HE’S ALL RAPEY!”

Yet they’ll still get in the car and end up on the business end of some unwanted penisage.

If only these people could hear us.  Especially if they’re black or an unknown actor.  There’s absolutely no point in shouting at the unknown black actor.  His ass is out of there first.

Random facebook groups

“Let’s turn our beds into bunk beds so that we have more room for activities”

“I say no to drugs, but they don’t listen”

“After saying “what?” three times you just have to nod and smile.  It’s the rules”

“Don’t see me, don’t see me, don’t see me……. HEY, there you are!  Fuck!”

“Saying “EA Sports, it’s in the game” along with the guy who says it in the game”

“It’s not personal or anything, but you’re just a cunt”

Serving no other purpose than making you chuckle for a minute, clicking the “like” button and then completely forgetting all about it.

What’s not

Bad boob jobs

Just look at that.  Lads, I think I’m safe in saying this for all of us.

And for any ladies reading – don’t do it.

Boobs Au natural are the only way to go.  Whether they’re big or small be proud of what you have.

If you don’t you could end up with boobs that look like socks full of custard because the surgeon forgot to order the saline that week.

You might as well go the whole hog and get a penis so that you really look like that cheap ladyboy porn star.

Offering people something and they take some even though you really don’t want them to

This deserves a useless Facebook group all for itself, and it probably exists.

But you know when you’re really enjoying something, like a packet of Rolo’s because you haven’t had them in yonks?  You look around and offer “Anyone want one?”  Sure, one person saying “Ooh Rolo’s haven’t had them in yonks” and grabbing one is fine.  But when every cunt dips their paws into the foil leaving you with only a couple left it’s enough to make you want to snap their neck and fuck the twitching corpse.

I like Rolo’s.

Watching a movie with your parents and a sex scene comes on

Doesn’t matter if you’re a kid and were allowed to stay up late or if you’re just over visiting and your mother has the latest subtitled Dutch arty film on.  The site of a threeway that is essential to the plot is enough to turn everybody’s attention to the Lidl special offer leaflet that’s on the coffee table.

Who’s hot

Rosie Huntington-Whiteley

Who is she?  Well ever since Megan Pouty Mc No Talent fucked up the easiest gig she ever had acting beside a robot and some transformers by slagging the films off in interviews, lovely Rosie is taking her place.

So with the third Transformers being written by actual writers and not Michael Bay and Cockface lebeef apologising for the last one as well as the last Indiana Jones film, it might turn out to not be a steaming pile of donkey sick.

If Rosie looks half as hot in the film as she does here, I’ll go and see it regardless.

Emma Watson

Remember when it was wrong to watch a Harry Potter film and knock one out to Hermoine in her school uniform?  Not any more baby!  Ok so it’s been ok to think about her that way for a while now, seeing as she’s 20.  But she’s still in the uniform.  Although it still may be wrong to knock a sneaky batch of knuckle babies while watching a Harry Potter flick as there’s always the chance of that poxy ginger showing up and ridding you of your wood.

It may also be wrong because Harry Potter films are for kids and virgins.

Although having said that there is some pretty funny Harry Potter parody porn doing the rounds.

“Erectus magnificus” and so forth.

Charlotte Church

Now that she’s dumped that rugby cunt, I can finally get down to business.  All I need to do is find out where she lives, and rummage through her rubbish until I have enough information to seduce her without completely creeping her out.

I reckon it could be done.

I’d just have to stop myself from spurting a manly load all over myself from just hearing her accent.

Something about a chick with an accent just does it for me.  Plus I reckon she could deepthroat a golf club.

Which would be about a golf club’s length more than she’d need with me.

Honesty, it works great.

Who’s not

Sandra Oh

Deny it all you want but chances are there are a good percentage of you who are waiting until next week to find out what happens in the season finale of Grey’s Anatomy.  This week some nutjob shot the place up good and proper and got quite far without someone, anyone calling the fuzz on his trigger happy ass.  Anyway, as much as I enjoy the show, I can’t help but think of an inverted pelvis everytime I see Sandra Oh come on the screen.  Plus, she has a thing for ginger nuts.  For shame, Sandra.  Between you and Mr Ed Sarah Jessica Parker, she’d have more chance of getting a rise out of me.

Twink

“Dear Erections,

It was awfully nice knowing you, we had some laughs.

Sincerely,

Every dude ever.”

Imagine her giving you a lap dance to the tune of “I touch myself” if you really want to banish those vagina bothering erections.  If that doesn’t do it, imagine her in a see through body stocking having a margarine fight with Pat Butcher.

That’ll do it.

Rumer Willis

Who the fuck is she?  Well, imagine if you took the genes of two of Hollywood’s once most attractive people, Demi Moore and Bruce Willis.  You’d be forgiven for thinking it would produce offspring so bonerific that scientists would have to be employed to come up with some sort of boner forcefield, right?

Wrong.

Check her out.

Suppose she would be hot if she didn’t have a jawline that Desperate Dan would feel emasculated next to.

When they come around to remaking Demi’s flog GI Jane, and they will, they’ll get her to play the lead role.  Imagine her with a shaved bonce.

The immortal line “Suck my dick” would have you dropping to your knees out of fright.

What’s hot

Whippy cones

Wanna feel that giddiness that you get when you hear the ice cream van, or when you’re in the shop and you spot someone asking for a 99?  Embrace it and get one yourself.  Complete with Flake, sprinkles, chopped nuts, chocolate sauce and raspberry syrup so artificial it would stain the lava lakes of hell.  Lick it before it drips all over you.  Or don’t and feel like your 6 again.

Sniffing a girl as she walks past

There’s not a man alive who doesn’t do this.  You spot a hot chick coming towards you on the footpath and you wait just until she’s gracefully floated past you before stretching your nostrils around her wafting scent.  HooHaa!  If she’s got flip flops on too the combination of the passing sniff and the flip floppy sound may be enough to make you light headed as the blood rushes elsewhere in confusion.

Finding money you forgot you had

Ok so the recession took everything off us and we should know where every penny is, but you know that feeling when you put on the pair of jeans that have been on the bedroom floor for a week, stick your hand in your pocket and pull our a fiver you forgot was in there?  Or a tenner?  Or the fabled €20?  It’s like the feeling you imagine you’d have while being handed the winning lotto ticket while getting a blowjob from The Little Mermaid.

Hearing a cry of pain from another room

You hear a crash and then the air everywhere is turned a bright shade of blue as you hear the cries of bad language that would make Roy Chubby Brown cringe.  Try as you might to stifle a giggle you just can’t.  Maybe you should be concerned and rush to see if they’ve really hurt themselves.  But if they have time to curse the universe and its ma, then they have time to take themselves to the A&E.

What’s not

Wasps

Fuck off you buzzy cunts.  Hover around the window before sauntering like you own the place only to sit your fat hole on my Whippy cone.  Waving and shouting doesn’t move you and you seem to forget the way you came in.  A faceful of Wasp spray and look who suddenly remembers where the fucking window is?  Get ta fuck.

Inflation

Ok so prices can’t stay the same forever, but 75c for a packet of King?  65c for a packet of Jonnie Onion Rings?  Back in our day they were 12p and 10p respectively.  I blame the foil freshness conspiracy.  We never had that when we were young.  We had stale Jonnie’s and we loved them.  Fucking kids don’t know they’re born these days.

Being caught staring

Like a child being caught with their hands in the biscuit tin.  You don’t feel guilty for trying to take the biscuits, you just feel guilty for being caught, and a little ashamed and a little disappointed in yourself.  Mostly because at this stage you should be great at copping a stare of a nice cleavage, but when it’s your cousin and it’s your nana who caught you it just doesn’t sit well.  Until you’re alone later and you use it to your advantage!

Cyclists

Not the people on their way to work, or the shop, or everyday stuff.  We embrace a healthier lifestyle.  The cuntnuggets in the stretchy pants and the wrap around shades who “organise” a group cycle around local roads, cycle in three’s and have the cheek to scream at drivers who don’t overtake when it’s obviously unsafe to do so.  Hey, what’s the first thing to go through a cyclist’s mind when I plough through them all laughing like a maniac?  His arse.  You’ve been warned.

Hyper kids

Hey, want to bring your kids to the restaurant, pub or beer garden?  Want to let them run around unsupervised while you get pissed?  Sound like a plan?  It does to every parent where ever I go.  Fair enough, here’s my plan – Next time one of the little shite factories runs past me squealing and knocking my pint over I’ll stick them in a crate marked “Gary Glitter, care of Cambodia”. How’s that?  Sound fair?  Does to me.

What’s hot

Investments

No not the kind that leaves bankers rich and you in a cardboard gaff with wall to wall corrugation.  The kind of investment of staving off all other males and their advances on the two hot chicks at the party who have said they like to kiss each other “for shock value”.  We couldn’t give a flying donkey spunk why they do it.  Adding WKD and Captain Morgan to your list of investments for the evening and you’ll have a spank bank that other men will give their left nut to see for themselves.

Sexy dream time

It’s not your fault that you dream of those sexy girls doing sexy things to each other.  It is your fault that you haven’t had a wet dream since you were 12 because you’ve wanked your balls into nothing more than dust filled peanut shells.  So when you do have a sexy time dream, you try to make the most of it.  Your missus was going to wash the sheets anyway, right?

Ice cream meets pavement

We may have mentioned this one before, but there’s no other event in this world that will make you feel giddy with joy than seeing a toddler lose their 99 to the pavement.  There’s also not a high speed camera in existence that can catch the moment that utter enjoyment transforms into world shattering loss.  Your eyes catch it though, and in glorious slow motion.  The ensuing screeching and bawling that would normally grate your soul are like sweet music to your ears.

Pixie Lott

Catchy music, not a bad singer and she’s totally wanktastic.  Nuff said.

Being bare arse naked

Lying on your balcony or in your garden taking in the rays and even getting an all over tan because you’ve shaved your happy trail off with her lady Gillette because she’s blunted your razors on her manky pits.  Even just walking around behind closed doors in the nip is magnificent.  Not to be tried in the local playground, no matter what the weather is like.  You could catch a chill.

What’s not

Nicotine Cola

Wake up in the morning with a head on you like Worzel Gummidge’s arse.  Staggering downstairs you reach for the nearest liquid to hand, your trusty can of carbonated saviour.  Two gulps in to that warm flat left over from the night before you realise that it’s the can your mate put his fag out in when your missus complained about the stink.  Any ability you had at preventing your hangover vomiting goes out the window, literally.

Shaving

Well excuse me, society but I’ve rather become accustomed to looking like a hobo’s undercarriage.  I’m for re-writing the rules for interviews and social etiquette.  Men’s razor’s should be used for one thing only – the balding up of wimmin’s pink bits.  Let’s face it, by the time the ladies have finished with our blades they’re fuck all use for anything, let alone going near our pretty little faces.

Sexy dream time ending

So you’re in the middle of your first wet dream in over a decade and just as the ladies are moistening themselves up, they look you in the eye and purr “Why don’t you…. why don’t you…. why don’t you….” Only to be woken up by your better half shouting at your drooling erect form on the couch shouting “Why don’t you ever take the rubbish out, you fat sad loser?”. Fuck.  Sake.