About us

Monday, 17 October 2011


How the fuck have I not covered this self righteous, pompous waste of oxygen until now? I feel that I'm not alone in thinking that this man is the epitome of egotistical douchebag, and I'm certain that he's been setting off your smug alarms for years. Bono is lauded as a saint by some for his supposed philanthropy and selfless commitment to tackling poverty, but despite his charity work and seemingly good intentions I can't fucking stand him! These are my top reasons for hating this pretentious moron;

  • U2 fucking suck- To me, listening to U2 is the musical equivalent of staring at a man's corpse whilst he is experiencing "angel lust" (post-mortem erection). U2 songs start and instantly reach a climax akin to a corpse's flaccid penis as it struggles to reach a depressingly lifeless boner that rapidly loses strength and eventually shrivels up into an inanimate nothing. It baffles me that U2 are the highest grossing band in the world, their music is so middle of the road and ineffectual that I can't hear it, I'm only aware that it exists. U2's style of "rock music" is always used to portray cool maverick types in mundane BBC drama's, for example think Judge John Deed struggling to vault a Rover, James Nesbitt chasing down a criminal through a supermarket or a Blue Peter presenter doing a bungee jump whilst the stock riff from "Elevation" plays in the background. This type of “rock” appeals to a smug beano reading chortler “rocking out” in a depressingly comfy environment (watching highlights of Glasto on the I-player whilst their dead behind the eyes wife is asleep on a Sunday after a roast), denying their middle class sensibilities whilst listening to U2 records (which they bought on the Apple store whilst picking up the new Coldplay album) on their vacant shiny 200GB I-pod (in a leather case to avoid scratching of course).

  • Look at him....just look at him- So it's pretty much common knowledge that anybody that wears sunglasses indoors is automatically an utter cunt. Bono looks like a second rate cast off from the Matrix/a space cowboy from the future, wearing ridiculous hats, constantly draped in a leather trench coat looking like he might flash you at any moment. His flamboyant trademark image extenuates his infinite ego, the finishing touch on a self obsessed wanker.

  • Bono is coming, act busy! -"I don't know why, but we always had this belief that there was something sacred about our music, that it was almost holy." ....WHAT? This is one of many truly narcissistic statements that the deluded old fruit has made when reflecting on his impact on music, highlighting his warped view of his own self importance. You're right Bono, some of your lyrics really are holy, here's a few of my personal favourites that have got me through some really hard times...I didn't give anyone else a choice/An intellectual tortoise” I've got no self control/Been living like a mole...now”.”Grace, is a name for a girl, it's also a thought that changed the world”

    Whoah, it's like he's channelling the words from my soul, his lyrics don't even slightly sound like they were written as homework by a GCSE student. I think if we need any further proof that God isn't real then that statement has put the nail in the fucking coffin, but on the other hand you could look at it like U2's music was created by a God with the divine purpose of punishment. Have you heard the parable of the rich man that moved his money in a private jet to a tax haven in a foreign country? Look it up in the Capitalist Bible mannnnnnnnnnn! Can we just hurry up and crucify him so that he can die for all our sins already?

    "Celebrity is currency, so I wanted to use mine effectively." There is nothing more patronising than having a millionaire getting up on their diamond encrusted soapbox and try and lecture you about global poverty, it is utterly sickening! Bono has never disclosed his contribution to fighting African poverty, but throwing money at a continent that is corrupt beyond belief will not solve anything. I'm not going to deny that in 1985 Live Aid was a well intentioned concert and a historic moment in Britain, but helping to raise money for Africa does not make Bono an expert in global politics. Bono seems to get behind any bandwagon with a safe political message like “War is not very nice”, “Racism is rubbish” or “Global warming is quite dangerous” presenting himself as a cool political maverick sticking it to “the man”. He may not play by the rules but by god he gets results! In reality he should not be entertained as a political figure in any form, just an opinionated old windbag that likes the sound of his own voice and lives with his greasy head permanently inserted in his own rectum.

Bono, you have been stuck in a moment of new age bullshit and pretention since the elevation of your ego in the 80's...you still haven't found what you're looking for and you're out of control. I hope you don't have vertigo, because you are going to fall off the edge of your mountainous moral high ground and it will be a beautiful day....someday bloody someday.

I can't live, with or without you

Modern 'Art'

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Nope, it's modern art. Prepare for your fucking mind to be blown.

As the 21st Century bumbles along, there are several things that we urgently need to address in society to prevent us from certain devastation. We are in serious danger, for example, of fucking up our climate with global warming, for a while now we've teetering on the brink of being blown to bits in World War Three and if we're not careful, we may all be suffocated as we collectively disappear up our own assholes with the pretension of modern 'art'.

Take for example the above piece of 'art' created by Barry Flanagan, being displayed in the Tate this month... WHAT. THE. FUCK? I swear to fucking Lydia, this isn't a joke, this is actually being displayed as art in a fucking gallery. WHO WOULD BE SUCKED IN BY THIS?!?! Good old Barry must be fucking pissing himself laughing at the dickheads who brought this.... It's a pile of fucking sand! WHAT?!

I don't want to just pick up on this piece of shit, so let's look at some more. Next, the world famous 'My Bed' by Tracy Emin.

THIS IS NOT ART. What you've done here, is sleep in a bed and made a fucking mess. I knew a girl once whose bedroom looked like this. Piles of clothes everywhere, empty ketamine bags strewn all over the desk and a cat 'somewhere' in the wreckage. Was she an artist? Rather than slowly backing out of the door when she turned around, should I of dropped to my knees and applauded her bold statement about depression? Was she saying 'I am a product of my environment, I am depressed and this is my take on that illness?' No. She was just a lazy, disgusting, untidy fuck. Tracy Emin; This is not art. It's not even a thing. It's just your grotesque life moved into a gallery. I realise you've had a bad time of it and your depressed, but maybe if you tidied up your house and stopped living like a fucking pig, you'd feel better, yeah?

Ok, last one...

Above is 'Work No.227:The Lights going on and off' by Martin Creed. So basically, it's a room and the lights flash on and off intermittently... Wow, where to start.... I feel it's worth pointing out that this awful piece of shit actually WON the Turner Prize. Think about that for a second, it's not just art, it's AWARD WINNING art. At best this is an example of shoddy electrical workmanship, at worst it's a cunning trap for epileptics. THIS. IS. NOT. ART. YOU. PRETENTIOUS. FUCKING. CUNT. Seriously Martin, fuck your life.

The most annoying thing is that the artists of all these abominations will explain them away as something deep and meaningful with a message and snobby art cunts will listen. They'll marvel at the structure, the forms they take, the way it makes them feel and what it says to them inside. They'll stand around looking at them from all angles, squatting down to eye level with them and basking in their beauty and simplicity. They'll read in The Guardian how astounding they are and not wanting to be left behind they'll flock to the Tate and swoon of over the emperor's new clothes. They'll exit through the gift shop and buy postcard photos of them to take home and stick on their fridge full of fucking creme fraiche and organic apple juice. Mother. Fucking. Art. Cunts.

In my mind, art (and therefore artists) are divided into two very distinct columns.

One; Artists - People who can create things that others can't. Paintings, sculptures, drawings, anything that your standard mouth breather on the street wouldn't be able to replicate easily.

Two; Cunts - People that decide a real job is too hard for them and take a shit in a box and try to pass it off as a statement of the proletariat's struggle to be heard in today's overcrowded and over saturated society... Do one, prick.

Just because you own a camera, it doesn't mean you are a photographer. Just like owning a printer doesn't make you a printer, like playing in a punk band doesn't make you a musician and buying balsamic vinegar doesn't make you a fucking chef. I wish things were that simple, I do. I own a cat, I wish that meant I owned a Lion but alas, the world is not that fair. So just because you have a fucking art degree, it does not mean that you are an artist. Having been to a couple of 'End of Year Art Shows' I can confirm that Art Degrees are handed out like sweets at the dentist.

Sleeping in a bed, making a shit sand castle or flicking a light switch on and off is not art, you fucking prick.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Zombie Chic.

Wouldn't it be wicked if we were all dead?
Well… No?

Zombies… Really? Still?! It’s 2011, what the fuck is wrong with you? Surely this thing has to die (wheyyyy) soon? Movies, TV shows, computer games, photo-shoots, every fancy dress party, every Halloween, every fucking chance they get, cretins seem to delight in rolling around in flour, putting on some ripped clothes and throwing fake blood over each other.


It seems that ‘Zombie-chic’ has now crossed over from a joke into a fully developed subculture which (like most/all subcultures) is tedious to the fucking extreme.

Take for example, the ‘concerned citizen’ who took time out of his day to write to Leicester City Council and ask how prepared they were for ‘a Zombie invasion’ After the Council admitted it was not prepared for such a made up event, 150 people left their parent’s spare rooms, took to the streets and slowly Zombie-shuffled through the town centre…

I mean, haha, don’t get me wrong, hahahaha, I do bloody love a good laugh, hohoho, and this is VERY funny. Funny AND clever. Hohohohohoooo, hahahaha, Leicester, ay? The things that town gets up to… HAHAHA! SO FUNNY! I mean, that hilarious guy must have been the king of Warhammer club the next day when he told his friends about it over a mug of Ribena. I bet they all laughed so hard they had to get their inhalers out. Thank god their glasses were tied to their heads or I’m sure they would have fallen off too. Oh lord the hilarity! I can only imagine how much fun these guys had. Eurgggghhhhh, so funny.

The irony of course is that there IS a plague spreading across the world, infecting people and turning them into mumbling, slow walking, smelly fucking idiots. Hell is indeed full and the dead stupid are being spat back onto the earth to fuck up our lives and make us miserable.

Please, PLEASE stop, you fucking awful cunts.