Taliban Fighters

One thing that’s always troubled me is ‘What motivates someone to join the army?’

The common answer seems to be the desire to serve your country. Surely the safer option would be to join the navy. I’m not sure of the exact stats, but I’m fairly certain that the Iraqi and Afghan Navy are pretty low in numbers. You can still serve your country in relative safety. You’ll get free accomodation and your wages will be paid by the taxpayer. You’ll be like a single mother without the stigma attached.

Another advantage would be that you still get to blow the complete shit out of stuff, but you get to do it from a safe distance.

The War being fought in Iraq and Afghanistan reminds me very much of the conflict on the forest moon of Endor. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular conflict it involves the primitive Ewoks taking on the technological Empire. Replace Ewoks with The Taliban and Stormtroopers with the UK and US Forces and I think we can all agree the similarities are striking. Okay, The Taliban aren’t as cute, they don’t live in trees and I think Ewoks have a better record on equality, but they are technologically primitive compared to our own forces, but still pose a significant threat.

The thing about joining the army is that you can’t pick and choose who you’re fighting against. When you join up you must surely realise that you could end up embroiled in a war that your heart’s not really in. You can’t go “Y’know, I’m not really into this War on Terror thing. If we get into a War on Top Gear or a War on Stephen Baldwin, then give me a call and I’ll be on the frontline.”

If you’re visiting this site then you are probably one of 3 things:

1. Someone I know
2. Just been watching Laura Robson in some tennis match and in your depraved search for pervy shots of her, you have stumbled across Lethal Haystack’s Bukkake story
3.Some Eastern European spambot trying to spew untold amounts of perverted links directing us to filth and debauchery of a disgusting nature! Seriously, the thought of women writhing about in lesbian ecstacy,exploring each other’s bodies with the help of a variety of toys, food and garden machinery, their swaeting bodies……..is erm, yeah, disgusting

The thing that gets me about spam is the lack of effort that goes into slipping through the net. It’s always things like.

“Hi, just wanted to say that I liked your article and will be visiting more in the future.”

This would be potentially acceptable if it wasn’t for the fact that their name is usually something like hotdribblinggrannies.com or HowIlost30lbsinthirtyseconds.com

Occasionally they are written in some amazing language that in some cases is a joy to read. Sometimes I’m happy to let spam through if I think enough effort has been made. This is one of my absolute favourites so far..

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I’m sure you’ll agree that that is absolutely beautiful. It was some spam that was submitted onto a story about Lottery presenter Jenni Falconer accidentally touching her anus while wiping her arse, so yeah, a ‘precious topic’ indeed.

Someone once joked to me “I love kids, but I couldn’t eat a whole one.” I pointed out that if you had a decent set of knives and a good size freezer, you could probably polish one off over the course of a week. What’s the rush with finishing the lot off in one sitting. They called me a sicko! Hang on a minute! I’m not the one who started a conversation about eating kids!

Are dogs man’s best friend? If I had a mate that did a big shit on the landing, I’d be asking serious questions of our friendship. If I introduced my best friend to the wife and he started to have sex with her leg, I might have to pull him to one side for a chat. If I went with my best friend for a walk in the park and he rolled in some shit and then tried to lick my face I’d probably have to insist we went our seperate ways.

Can I have a cup of coffee, please?

What kind?

Erm, the hot, black kind that goes brown when you add milk.

No, I mean do you want a Latte, Cappuccino, Espresso, Espresso Lungo, Espresso Americano, Ristretto, Macchiato, Doppio or a Mocha?

I just want some coffee mixed with hot water.

Okay, I’ll do you an espresso. Do you want it fair trade?

For fucks sake! No, I want the people that grew it to have been tortured to within an inch of their lives and for every single member of their family to have been shot. I would like the land that they live on to have been stolen and bulldozed. It would also enhance the flavour if I could be satisfied that they got paid virtually fuck all. Now give me the fucking coffee.

Okay, so here’s the new category that I’ve added to enable me to fulfil my resolution to update the site daily……when I say daily, I probably won’t bother at weekends because quite frankly I’ve got better things to do.

Anyway, I’m not here to pass off what I write as the truth. If I’m honest I don’t really know much about anything so I’ll be making most of it up.

Also I find it impossible to write seriously about anything. I think I have some rare form of tourettes that manifests itself in what I write. I once wrote a speech to read out at my Grandad’s funeral. It included two jokes about Night of the Living dead and one about Fred West. When I read out the line “My Grandfather was a keen handyman, he set up a workshop in the basement and would spend a lot of his time fixing and building. Infact he spent more time in the cellar than Josef Fritzel’s daughter,” a hush filled the room. The reception I got that day was deader than he was.

If anyone has any suggestions about topics that they would like me to cover then feel free to comment……..hang on for that to work people would have to be reading this shit. It’s a crazy thought.

The site has been running now for just under a year, and in that time we have seen the traffic increase from fuck all to barely fuck all. We have a loyal band of readers, most of which work in the same building as me, so we’re pretty much just chatting amongst ourselves.

Of course I’m eternally grateful to the people that contribute stories and features to the site, but these contributions are few and far between. I fully appreciate that people lead busy lives and don’t have the time to regularly contribute. It must be difficult to drag themselves away from putting teabags in ashtrays, watching Cash in the attic, or whatever else the unemployed fill their fruitful and creative lives with.

I would like the site to be updated on a daily basis, so have decided that I am going to write absolutely any old shit to achieve this objective. I will of course try not to bore you with details of what I’ve eaten for lunch or what I’m watching on TV, but I will instead endeavour to provide you with thought provoking and insightful writing that will spark intelligent debate and……….yeah, I ‘ll be telling you what I ate.

Anyway, all of this is part of my new year’s resolution to be more creative, disciplined and eat less pies. So I look forward to talking to myself over the next year.

Happy New Year

Jed

It’s that magical time of the year when we all come together to celebrate the birth of our Lord and Saviour, Father Christmas, who was born over 2000 years ago under a christmas tree in Bethlehem.

Some people, crazy, crazy people, will have you believe that Father Christmas is actually the devil, because Santa is an anagram of Satan. These same people probably believe that God is a canine, because his name is an anagram of dog. I must admit that the thought of God scraping his arse along the carpet and licking his own nuts, is a happy one. I would imagine that God could do the latter anyway. What would be the point of being an omnipresent superbeing if you can’t suck yourself off?

Today is Christmas eve. A time for last minute shopping and preparing yourself for talking to relatives that you have absolutely fuck all in common with. You know the sort of phone calls, speaking to your parents and they say “Just have a word with your Auntie Mary.” I had a telephone conversation with an elderly relative that I hadn’t seen in years and her opening line was “Haven’t you grown!” We’re on the phone! How mental are you!

Anyway, I’d just like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read the stuff on here, the people that have left comments, good or bad and of course the people that have contributed to its content, flammableBen, spacey, Lethal Haystack, Thomas Aquinas, Dr Christie Jones, Rufus DeBerg, Dave, Morgan Freechild and Barry Scott. Most of all though I’d like to thank me for being so amazing, fashionable and handsome.

Happy Christmas

Jed

Next up in our spotlight on despotic dreamboats is our very own BNP (British National Pin-up), Naughty Nick Griffin.

50 year old Nick is capable of setting your pulse racing and making you sweat, unfortunately if you’re a muslim this will be because one of his henchman is chasing you with a baseball bat.

Favourite colour: White

Hobbies: Inciting racial hatred and holocaust denial

Turn offs: Foreigners, homosexuals, lefties

Turn ons: Totalitarian, autocratic dictatorships

Hubba! Hubba! Hubba! Attention all women! Grab yourself a fan, pour yourself a cold drink because things are about to get HOT! HOT! HOT!

We’re going to bring you prime BNP beefcake! Klu klux cuties and a selection of the finest right wing romeos around. Forget nail bombs, these guys are sex bombs!

Yowzer! Yowzer! Check out this hunk! His smouldering eyes will set your heart on fire! And if you’re black, probably your house aswell!

Favourite colour: White:

Hobbies: Terrorism, intimidation, lynching, murder and burning crosses.

Turn offs: Mainly African Americans, Jews, Homosexuals and Catholics.

Turn ons: Good sense of humour.

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Today’s paint-off sees twinkle toed celebrity Lionel Blair take on co-founder of the cubist movement and one of the most recognized figures in 20th century art, Pablo Picasso.

Picasso has weighed in with this painting that he has called Three musicians. The painting with its richness of feeling and balance of formal elements, represents a classical expression of cubism.

Lionel has entered this painting that he has called Give us a cock. A bleary eyed Blair (pictured with his painting) had clearly spent a lot of time on his painting. “Sorry I look so haggered, but I’ve been up half the night touching up my cock” He confessed

Art critic Peregrine Falcon, was almost paralysed with praise for Blair’s painting “Incredible!” He blurted.

He wasn’t so impressed with Picasso’s effort. “It’s a mish mash of fuck all” He blasted slamming his fist down into a nearby cake.