Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Fester Fastrousers' Tales of the Terrible

Halloween again, every peadophile's favourite festival. Last year I went to see the West Hollywood Halloween Parade. To be fair I didn't notice any peadophiles, but I think pretty much every other form of deviant activity was catered to - I recommend it if you're in the area. Halloween also represents the season of 'horror' films. Lot's of blood, some incredibly stupid teenagers and the cinematographic equivalent of jumping out of a cupboard and saying boo. It's not exactly Hitchcock, is it? The trouble with most modern horror films, apart from that the situations are so unlikely, are the protagonists. They're always so amazingly stupid that I end up hating them and rooting for the monster/serial killer, which renders their eventual butchering somewhat less narratively effective.

How about some horror films about a situation that is, in fact, genuinely terrifying? Here is a run-down of truly fear-inspiring moments.


7) "This is the Dean of Students. I'm phoning to discuss the University's policy regarding sexual harassment, particularly in the classroom..." - Bloody Hell, another morning wasted in some compulsory 'seminar' whilst some menopausal hippy talks about objectivisation of women.

6) "I did what last night? You're crapping me! Jesus, you're supposed to be my friends, why the hell didn't you stop me?" - As Alfred Hitchcock himself knew, true suspense lies not in the outcome but in the build-up. Nothing beats that visceral descent into despair as the hazy memories of one's actions the previous night gather themselves like flocking birds into a coherent picture of public shame and possible criminal proceedings.

5) "Hi, Mr. Fastrousers? This is Wayne from the Bank of Phukett and Rhunn. I've been reviewing your account activity and..." - Bugger, I knew I should have dealt with a Swiss bank, that's a nation that truly understands the importance of discretion in financial transactions. They also appreciate the importance of rank: it's Captain Fastrousers to you, you pimpled oik.

4) "You will be able to come to our wedding, won't you?" - A nasty spectacle indeed, watching yet another hapless idiot walk gladly into Cupid's very own Dungeon. It's like that scene in horror films when the naive, curious teenager insists on investigating some dark, forbidding cave alone. 'Don't do it!' I cry, but they never listen.

3) "I went to the doctors today. This is a little awkward, but you haven't noticed a burning sensation when you pee, have you?" - It's bad enough having to get a penicillen shot in the arse from some sexless nurse who believes in 'abstinence-only sex-ed', but having to track down all my partners from the last six months is positively grisly. I pay Trojan to avoid this kind of thing, for chrissakes.

2) "Do you love me?" - Errrrrr...... (for extra fear-value this should be asked during coitus, rendering a dignified escape extremely difficult).

Finally, coming at #1, the all time horror classic...


1) "I'm six weeks late" - JesustittyfuckingchristwhatthefuckamIgoingtodoareyousureohshitohshitohshitAAARRRGGHHH!!???!!

The very latest in quality porcelain-ware

Apparently, fat cunts now need to use a special toilet. I have in the past been accused by a large woman of being 'fattist'. "No love" I replied, "I think you'll find that you're the fattest"*. The accusation of fattism may or may not have some justification, after all not everyone is blessed with my natural athleticism and boyish, ageless charm. Nevertheless, irrespective of the state of your thyroid, it takes a special devotion to the art of troughing in order to justify the need for a specially-designed $1400 khazi. In addition to its ergonomically-designed wide-capacity seat, the Great John includes side panels to the seat, an extra set of floor anchors, and is tested for loads of up to 2000lbs. I couldn't find any information regarding the flush mechanism, but I would imagine that anyone who needs a 2000lb bog is likely to be dumping some pretty ghastly loads into the damn thing. Not so much 'dropping the kids of at the pool' as 'dumping the nuclear waste into the ocean'.

All this scatology is reminding me that it's soon Halloween, the season of slutty costumes and top-decking under the guise of 'Trick or Treat'. For you foreigners who don't know what 'top-decking' is, it's that lovely old British custom of going to a friend's house and crapping in the toilet cistern rather than the bowl. Bets are placed on how long it takes the homeowner to work out why the smell is worse after flushing than before.

It has become my mission to introduce these wonderful traditions to my adopted land.

* This gag won a lifetime achievement award for 'exceptionally long service to humour' at the recent Cannes Prix de Concours des Blagues et Conneries'.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Polish police end nun rebellion

Excellent. I have been campaigning for some time now that the risk posed by rebellious nuns be fully recognised. Finally the Polish authorities have led the way by showing these habit-wearing crones the smack of firm government. Oh, I know some of you out there will think that I'm being a little harsh. After all, I hear you ask, what harm can these people possibly do, cloistered as they are in their urban asceticism? Plenty, is the answer. It starts of with a couple of AveMarias here, a few shelters for 'fallen women' there, and before you know it they're terrorising the entire ecumenical structure. (Priests, as we know, are frightened of women generally, and nun's specifically). They say that nuns are the Brides of Christ: he clearly had a strange taste in women, Mary Magdalene aside.

The Polish authorities deployed 150 police, armed in riot gear and brandishing ladders, to deal with the 65 guitar-wielding anchorites. A wise precaution, there's nothing more dangerous than a cornered abbess and I for one wouldn't expect a fit, highly trained young policeman to go up against them with anything less than 3-to-1 superiority. A well-aimed rosary can be deadly.