Friday 30 May 2014

Magnificent Maleficent...



Bibbidy bobbidy boob




Bibbidy bobbidy boob



Push 'em together and what have you got?
[kle'varj]
Bibbidy bobbidy bewbs






BEWBS!






YES, I KNOW THE SONG IS FROM CINDERELLA, AND MALEFICENT IS FROM SLEEPING BEAUTY, BUT HOT DAYUM - IT'S ANGELINA JOLIE AS MALEFICENT, SO BEWBS!!!!

Thursday 29 May 2014

Journolixym...

No blog today, for I has had an idea!

Today's blog was to be on the newly discovered Gospel Of Barnabas which will probably end up in the Apocrypha, as it suggests Judas was crucified, not Jesus. And tomorrow's blog would be about Amityville, having just been subjected to the Lovebug Starski video (which had the Stauf Mansion in the video, not the Amityville house. Stauf's house is on a hill, Amityville isn't).

Anyhoo, people keep badgering me to do faux news articles and horrorscopes. I did a Daily Fail one recently as a test, and that worked OK. So I thought today's news about the 1500 gospel discovery would work well in that format.

So... blog split!

News type stuffs go on me website, normal bloggery on here. 

Right, now to create a new webpage... not sure when that'll be published. Might create a few articles first. We'll see...

[Edit 30.05] Feck it - did the Gospel last night/early this morn, & knocked up the Amityville one. News page published and can be found here

Wednesday 28 May 2014

Alice presses down on Wall's...

♪ "...With her spatula
In case the spitting sausages
Fall out the pan and on the floor
Alice serves up sausages
She cooks them in her frying pan
She serves them with some eggs and bacon
Cure her pounding hangover
Today..." ♫

Right, ranty times once more!

Wall's make sausages and ice-cream. Funny Feet, Sparkles, Cider Lollies, Feast and succulent sausages. They are NOT, I repeat, NOT manufactures of fashion disasters.

Like the onesie. Unless you're about 3yrs old, you shouldn't be poncing about Primarché in a romper suit.

But that is not my main issue today. Oh dear me, no.

It's the advert and the following competition.

It's not just the dumbed-down-for-fucktards mode of speech by the twatarse with the irritating voice: "Introducing the wall'sie, onesies you can wear down the shopsies" (which makes one want to punch the odious narrator right in the tits), but then goes on to claim: "One for the Goths - cheer up mate!"

Now, here is a pictorial representation of the aforementioned "Goth", and a prize of the so-called "Goth Onesie":
Hold up a minute..

Where's the Goth demonstrating the gothic onesie prize?

Nowhere to be seen!

What we do have is a bloody chavvy EMO in a Heavy/Death Metal onesie, embarrassing the Goth scene with their miserable mopings!

This is like saying "Win a Hip-Hop Hoodie" and having a Onesie decorated with images of One Direction worn by a 12yr old girl. 

Wall's should stick to dogs in their adverts. Dogs that talk about sausages humourously, rather than delving into the world of fashion and getting their musical genre's all incorrect.

In fact, I do believe that Hate Crime was expanded to include us Goths - surely telling us to "cheer up" is abuse! Just because Wall's are incompetent at distinguishing Goths from morose muppety EMOS, it shouldn't mean we should be tarred with the same brush! 

Sue Wall's, says I, and feed me compensation in the form a lifetime's supply of fried sausages for tea!

I am, however, intrigued by the blurred out onesies in the background. If misrepresenting Goths wasn't bad enough, it appears that the other 4 options are Stephanie Off Of Lazytown Onesie, Sad Golfer Onesie, Bearded Tranny In Tights And Padded Bra Onesie, and some form of Yellow Caped Crusader Crossly Crossing Arms Onesie.

Well, now I'm not sure which I'm more enraged about! Melancholic EMO miseries masquerading as Goffs, or the fact that the Stephanie Off Of Lazytown Onesie does have the pink hair alongside Rotten Robbie the golfer...

...I think that Batbloke's yellow cape has a blue collor may edge it in the annoyance stakes, as it's too much We wanted Batman & Bananaman, but can't afford the rights, so combined the two to make Batanaman, which has no rights attached. probably.

I don't have a problem with the bearded tranny one though - it is, after all, quite accurate and would blend in quite well in the City Centre.

But claiming that outfit is a "goth" onesie... well, that grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous EMO of yore was ne'er a goth. Nevermind nevermore...

Bloody EMOs, coming over here, stealing our genre title, supplanting our music with their metallic noise, imposing their foreign rituals of self harm and taking over the space outside The Forum, bringing the atmosphere down with their sullen silence in solitary isolation in their groups, being all youthful and have never even heard any actual Goth music. 

Goth onesie my best hat.

Tuesday 27 May 2014

Sumer Is Icumen In, Chris is 92...

Happy Birthday Siouxsie Sioux!

Well, I would be about to embark on a listening of Mantaray, The Scream, Juju or my Greatest Hits DVD...

But it's also Christopher Lee's Birthday! 92 today! You wouldn't think it, but Christopher Lee is 92 years old!! 

And what landed on my mat this afternoon?

Only The Wicker Man: The Final Cut on Blu-Ray Steelbook!

So guess I'll be a-watching that in a minute then!

I would have posted a video link of the most terrifying moment in film - Christopher Lee painted up in a dress and long black wig, dancing along to Procession - but StudioCanal have blocked all videos on the web :(


So you'll have to imagine it - and as ever, by imagining my pictorial of the Londinium Opening Ceremony is animatory and listening to the music on the youtube...

Monday 26 May 2014

That's not real cream, that's FOOL'S cream...

"I scream, you scream, and everyone's creaming it off down in Cornwall..."

So, this fair morrow I was off watching time-wimey exy mensies, which was cool, but then I went off to the Longwater fête in Costessey. 

Now, Sarah Connor famously carved "no fête" on a table in the Mexico desert, because she was fed up at the lack of local banditos having a shootout over a piñata whilst guzzling down Tequila and  trying not to spill Chilli Burritos all down your poncho. So son John read it, and realised she meant "no fête except that what you make for yourself" and had buggered off to do a car boot with Miles Dyson. Or do Mike Dyson on a car boot. Either way, she intended to prevent him creating an assassinatory machination of murderous cyborgian hoovers.

Anyhoo, whilst tramping about the fête and mingling with various groups of aquaintances¹, I came upon another revelation.

Queues at food vending venues are exponentially proportional to the volume and quantity of purchases!

Now, this came about due to yet another poor quality food service and pissmidget queuejumping twatwankers. To whit², queueing for ages to get a maple syrup & bacon waffle, waiting impatiently in line, and as the people in front are being served, some baldy fat cunt walks up to the front as if perusing the menu board, and as the chef hands over the chocolatey waffles - the portly pigfucker just orders his vast tonne of grub, the greedy fat cunt, much to the chagrin of all those in the queue. And he got served too, the selfish cockgobbling twatbag!!

Anyhoo, when lardbucket fucks off, protectively clutching his multiple snacks and wolfing them down as he barges through the busy thoroughfare, I finally gets to be served:
"I'll have the Americano - mmmm, maple syrup and bacon!"
"Sorry mate, ain't got no bacon!"


Well, I would have made complaint, but as I'm in all manner of doghouses at present for legitimately complaining, I kept me great fat gob shut tight, stropped off, and went looking for ice-cream.

Now - if you want an ice-cream, and there's no queue - you wander up, buy an ice-cream, done.

If there's a person just in front, they will buy 2 ice-creams.

If there are three, each will buy three. Eventually. For each will stop to persuse the pictures of the ices on display before deciding on 3 99s. 

If there's four people in the queue, you then note each order more than 4 ices, spend ages umming and ahhing over the menu, then spend ages going through their change to work out what sizes they can afford. And it's always loose change - never notes.

There was a fair few in front of me, and I noted each was buying multiple multiples of icey treats.

The couple in front of me bought 10 ice creams. TEN! TWO people, bought TEN! You know how long it takes to work out the cost of 10x £1.80, then slowly use the slow sludge dispenser, recieve each and holler out for someone to push through the throng and retrieve their ice-cream, and once all ices dispensed then start counting out your coppers?

Fucking ages!
And the Red Bull flavour ice-cream wasn't worth £2.30, I'll tell you that for nowt!!

Still, quicker than the bloody waffle stand, that cooked waffles to order. Two at a time. Then spent time trimming the waffles with scissors before spending ages slowly decorating the delicate creations.

And after they'd finished shaving their vadge and facepainting on a vajazzle, they spent ages cutting the edges off the brevilled batter and applying various adhesive liquids and toppings.

But a fun day out though... despite having to purchase a Shania Twain CD in front of my friends, and ruining all my street cred.

Yeah, I'm an old-school Goth... and I likes Shania Twain too. So ner.

¹ MAKING SURE I SPEND TIME WITH EVERYONE, SO NO-ONE FEELS LEFT OUT, SNUBBED, IGNORED, AND GETS ALL HUFFITY WITH ME, AS IS THE CURRENT TREND AT THE MOMENT. HOWEVER, I DID MISS OUT THE PHWOARDER, THROUGH NO FAULT OF MY OWN. BUT ON THE PLUS SIDE, ANOTHER OF THE TRIPLICITY OF ULTIMATE PRETTIES WAS PRESENT, SO... SWINGS AND ROUNDABOUTS, REALLY. WELL, CENTRIFUGAL WALLS OF DEATH & CALLIOPE CAROUSEL HORSES.

² TO WHO? TO THE STALL WHO WERE OFFERING £3 TO STROKE A BIRD. ONLY £3 TO RUFFLE AN OWL'S FEATHERS, WHICH SEEMS PRETTY CHEAP COMPARED TO THEM LADIES TRAINED IN THOSE ARTS THAT AMUSE MEN YOU SEE ON CRIMWATCH AND THE BILL. 
THEY DID HAVE A REALLY CUTE LITTLE OWL THOUGH. LOOKED LIKE A FLUFFY PENGUIN. I WANTS ONE!
"BUT XYM, THEY'RE NOCTURNAL. THEY'LL KEEP YOU UP ALL NIGHT"
"I WOULDN'T MIND A BIRD KEEPING ME UP ALL NIGHT" ETC ETC...

Sunday 25 May 2014

And young ones, shouldn't be afwaid...

Whoo-hoo! Yet another fabulous Jacquard Anthems night!

And Xym is hot (allegedly). Hawt to teh Pretties (apparently). He got it a-goin' orn (or so they say).

Go Xym!

AND I didn't upset anyone! No awkward ruckus, no fractious brou-ha-ha, no spoilage whatsoever!¹

AND the trim slim Xym looks younger too!

How old is Teh Xym?

Early thirties? Pah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!

Oh, so sorry -  you're mid-twenties then?

*spits out cider in comedy gobsmackedness with an extra chortle*

Go Team Me! Babyfaced Xlimoni with his youth and energy, throwing shapes on the dancefloor like one of them there youths with their boundless energy and pulling all the cougars!

¹ AS FAR AS I CAN RECALL. I WAS RATHER INEBRIATED. MUCH MORE THAN USUAL. I MAY HAVE OPENED MY GOB ONCE MORE A BIT TOO MUCH ABOUT THE HOTNESS OF CERTAIN SELECT PRETTIES. POSSIBLY IN THE AURAL VICINITY OF CERTAIN MAIDENS OF A HIGH DEGREE OF PHWOARIVITY. ALSO, ONE SUSPECTS ONE HAS ELOQUENTY VOICED HIS ADMIRATION OF HIS TOP TRIUMVIRATE OF TOTTY, AND HOPES SAID ADORATION DOTH NOT REACH THE EARS OF SAID SEXY SIRENS, FOR THEN ONE WOULD HAVE TO TAKE TO HERMITUDE AND VANISH FOREVER FROM THE SOCIAL SCENE FOR FEAR OF FACING AFOREMENTIONED WONDEROUS WENCHES KNOWING THAT THEY KNOW XYM IS CARRYING A TORCH FOR THEM AFORE MARCHING WITH THE TORCHES THEY CARRY FOR ME - ALL AFLAME AND SETTING THE CASTLE ABLAZE AND FLAMBÉING XYM ALIVE IN HIS ÆRIE. OR SOMETHING...

Saturday 24 May 2014

Did not, am not, I've just come to get me dignity back...

Urghle.

Oooh me belly.

Right, now. It appears one is in that there doghouse once more (thankfully wivvout Danny Dyer, the real life cockernee from Sahrf Lahndahn End, innit).

For one went to sample the Spanish delights of Tapas (you mean Taypas!).

Oh dearie lordy me...

First shocker was the single shot with diet coke for a whopping £5.10 £5.10!!!! For a single shot with diet coke!

And it rapidly went downhill from there...

So I ordereded Pie. Pælla, that is. Squiddy, Prawny, Musselly seafoody pælla.

Not only did the useless staff just dump everyone's meals randomly over the table, causing much hassle in transference, but they mysteriously took some back away with them, and left diverse nameless dishes about that required much prodding and poking to identify.

And the garlic bread was burnt.

And the "pot of hot stew" was an ashtray filled with a splodge of tepid... something...

But the the pælla arrived...

First thing - 2 great huge fuck off prawns sat atop - full prawns, that is. Eyes glowering from a sea of manky oil filled rice. Shells glistening with a overabundance of oily gloop, legs a-plenty and detatched 'tashes all over the shop!

Marco Pierre White would be having a right old strop - unshelled prawnage, leaving the shitsack in? Disgusting! Mussels - yeah, you expect them to be in a shell, but Prawns should be prepared properly in the kitchen! You don't ask for Roast Pork and get an unshaven pig's head plonked on yer table, do ya!

So, they were cast aside!

"Just twist them, Xym, and take the meat out"

Tried that. Failed. Squirmy slippery shell stuck fast. So it was taken apart from me by others.

And I chewed upon said rubber.

So I tried the raw aubergine plonked in the centre. Chewy. Ever so chewy. So chewy, in fact, it had to be removed from mouth and hidden amongst the shellings!

Try the small prawns... not so bad.

Try the squid. Rubbery. So much rubber. Not like proper calamari. 

Try the mussels - best bit so far! Yums!

Try the rice... where to start? The blackend, burnt onto the pan in the microwave bits around the edges? The orangey gloop of mush in the centre? The central ring of what looks like rice?

Start at the outer edge and work in.

Mmmm... luke warm crunchy rice....

Oooh, a central ring of tasty rice in a pleasant sauce...

Now for the pool of ricey gunk in the centre... ewwww. Cruncy bits of shell. Long strings of tough sinewy ropey stuffs. Odd areas that taste of lumps of metal. Odd mismatch of bizzare 'orrible flavours!

Nasty!

Wish I'd had the tenny portions of pots of stuffs instead. 

But nooo - I had to ruin the night by being served the worst pælla in existance!

But, as ever, I exude misery that permeates the very fabic of everybody's psyche, and am now public enema number one. 

Again.

Half one in the morning, and I'm curled up on the sofa with my stomach churning over with shooting cramps and hoping I haven't got food poisoning as I try and sort out my iPod that has suddenly decided not to synch, and I'm getting it both barrels off 2 of my harem harping on at me!

Maybe I should stay away from Social Intercourse once more, as it seems no matter how hard I try, I'm always in the wrong. 

So, no more meals out for Xym. No more engaging in diverse discussions. No more helping people out or being there for them, no matter how Pretty they are or how much I love 'em.

The Xym is done trying to please people, supporting them, and generally being their whipping boy when they have no-one else to vent their spleen upon.

So, no, Xym ain't no-one's friend. He looks after himself, like everyone. Xymni is Xymni's friend...

Friday 23 May 2014

Solway First...

So, today is the 50th anniversary of the Solway Spacebloke!

Now, way back in The Sixties, tree hugging hippies were all the rage, and were often found high off their nut drawing down the moon all nudified on mountaintops.

And on 23rd May 1964, the smoking of certain substances and the strumming of sitars invoked ye muʃik of ye ʃphereʃ, opening up a gateway by invoking the transperambulation of pseudo-cosmic antimatter (precipitating a flexi-tagenital spatial interflux within the symbiotic parameters) and allowing interdimensional picnickers to photobomb human picnickers having a picnic!

And here we see the Visitor From Beyond, all hot and sweaty after translocating into a new realm.

And caught on camera scratching his bollocks.

What an embarassing moment - you travel all the way to an alternate dimension, and your wang sits uncomfortably within your spacesuit, and as soon as you adjust your hose to a more relieving position, someone takes a photo of you!

On the other hand, of course, it could be some interplanetary pædophile. Cruising the celestial highway for the youth of the species like a grooming galaxian Gary Glitter alighting on the nearest habitable humanoid planet and getting their jollies by pleasuring themselves behind underage indigenous lifeforms, their excitement heightened by the risk of photographic fathers capturing their onanistic orgasm on camera.

And what recompense does the child get for being forced into having to cockblock cock from camera?

An ice-cream!

Well, a naff bunch of flowers masquerading as an ice-cream! That look says it all, really. "Yeah, thanks for that dad. Dumped in a field with some craptastic flowers in the heat instead of a Funny Feet lolly whilst a perverted pædo from Pluto pleasures his penis and jizzes all over the back of my head. Can we go home now. Please?"

Of course, the Greybeards of today will poo-pah the teleporting terror from Titan, and claim that there are no invisible spacepervs clad in spacesuits lurking being underage kids picknicking in the park.

"Of course, your average person will see a black muslim immigrant trying to invade our towns and cities with their halal invisibility cloaks that only white British cameras can see. However, after subjecting the image to rigorous scientific testing, taking into account apertures, focal distance, 1960s cameras and film, it is quite clear that the pop-up terrorist is clearly her mother standing up, and facing away from the camera. You can see details that match her dress and hair. Due to the exposure and soft blur, her hair appears to look like a visor, and the light blue dress washed out to near white. We believe the first shot, with no 'spaceman' was taken with the mother sat behind at a short distance. In the second shot, she stood, and because the father was focused on the child, he didn't notice her in the background...

...in essence, what we have here, is basically a parental picknicker picking the knickers out of Uranus her anus hungry arse after being sat on the grass."

Bollocks! What about the Men In Black? Men in Black? Mysteriously materializing Men in Black burkhas bukkake bombing bambinos with their halal ejaculate out on a picnic more like! 

Solway Firth! Only pronounced like that coz the bloke who named it had a lithp. It's actually Solway First - standing up for Solways fight against the rising tide of Muslim Ray Guns.

When will Britain First, The BNP and UKIP put a stop to these foreigners from outer space? Coming over here in their spaceships and gang-raping underage abductees whist claiming asylum because of mistreatment on Mars and claiming a second colony whilst they get free treatment on NHS for their syphillic hentai raping tentacles and getting over £50k Neptunian Nuggets A DAY in benefits because they can't work because they're on disability because they're allergic to the common cold, whilst raking in hundreds of Venusion dollars by illegally working three jobs taking up several BRITISH jobs with their multiple multitasking tentacles and we can't celebrate Christmas now in case it offends the Saturnalians and you're not allowed to deport them back to Jupiter just in case it breaches their 'Human' rights. This country is a JOKE, and I can't wait until I retire so I can leave and move to a sensible place like Altair IV #Proud2BHuman

Right, that's it - I'm off to complain to The Daily Fail - at least THEY take this problem SERIOUSLY!

And I bet that this so-called Solway Firth Spaceman Sniper shot Diana, and this was a practice run to see if he could jump through points in time before dealing the death blow and making a clean getaway to Unga Bunga land, or wherever these teleporting terrorists train these days. 

Of course - I jest. The girl in the photo is clearly sporting a "fascinator" in the shape of the top, six-packed torso of Buzz All-In. Or Louis Armstrong. Or the other bloke. One of them was doing something with her moon before they buggered off back to the lunar surface 4 years later, because it was The Sixties and things were different then. You were allowed to jingle-jangle your jewellery. 

or something.

Monday 19 May 2014

Normal service will resume shortly...

Well, me website's up and running - check out how awesome I is!



Now, I'm putting together my List Of Exciting Stuffs to go on there, and also...

...thrice today some fool has posted Nephilim videos to a group, along with the Lyrics.

Lyrics which are woefully incorrect. 

The entire opening of Dust - hardly a word correct! Phobia - Iconic lines wrong! 

I've been asked many, many times to put the lyrics up, so I'm now gonna start on doing some Neph pages.

Oh yeah.

But I'll dip in and out of here too on occassion!

probably.

Friday 9 May 2014

Busy Xym is busy...

Apologies.

Creating the content for me website is taking a tad longer than expected! Sourcing and scanning old creatives and stuff is taking ages.

My Professional page is done, my writings are done, my theatrical page is done - it's just the Creatives causing me havoc now! 

Hopefully, not long now until launch, so bare with me.

Or just bear with me, if you don't wanna nudify your body to me!

Monday 5 May 2014

TORIES FLOUNDERING AS MEAT HAS NO PLAICE IN COD'S WILL...

TORIES FLOUNDERING AS MEAT HAS NO PLAICE IN COD'S WILL!
ATHIEST FURY AS MEAT IS SET TO BE BANNED

DAVID Cameron has found himself EMBROILED in yet another food furoré last night, The Fail can exclusively reveal.

Following his recent announcement that he wished Britain to be 'more confident about our status as a Christian country', concerns have been raised that this could lead to a pigs-in-a-blanket BAN on meat in Britain thanks to CHRISTIAN lobbying groups.

UNFOUNDED reports claim that the Prime Minister is set to BAN all meat for consumption on Fridays, and if the pilot exercise is successful, the ban may be extended to EVERY day of the week.

EVIL Christians are no stranger to courting CONTROVERSY. Indeed, since their INSIDIOUS creep into English culture, most of our heritage and culture has been wiped out. The Government have kowtowed far too often under EU Political Correctness laws to APPEASE those of FOREIGN faith.

"Used to be, come May Day, we'd have a May Day procession," said a UKUNT spokesperson, "and the children would dance around a Maypole entwining the ribbons in a proper English fertility rite. Now, we can't have a proper English celebration in case it offends some Christians or Operation Yewtree. Now they want to take our meat! We should close our borders, but if they come here, they should abide by our laws and customs."

Our WEAK government has shown NO backbone in the face of religious ZEALOTRY on our shores. Already, Saturnalia and Yule have been phased out, and "Christ Mass" put in its place. Eostré has also been OVERSHADOWED by Easter, and many see this latest DEMAND from the Christian Church as being the LAST straw in the Christianitification of England.

EXPERTS investigating the theological basis of the new law point to the arcane ecclesiastical practice of not eating meat on a Friday. Professor Lucy Fayre of the Society For Biblical Scholars stated: "According to my RE teacher when I was in a CofE school, the Bible states that it is forbidden to eat meat on a Friday, and we were only allowed to eat Fish & Chips. This stems from the miracle of the loaves and fishes, where Jesus spent 40 days and nights fasting for Lent, then turned 5 loaves & 2 fishies into fish finger sandwiches for 5,000 people."

TRADITIONALLY, fish is often served on a Friday, but the omission of meat is often unobserved. Although there is no passage in the Bible specifically DEMANDING Christians eat fish on a Friday, many feel it is implicitly implied as a RELIGIOUS tenet, and BOYCOTT any venue serving meat, and thus keeping the DEFICIT increasing as businesses lose custom.

Fed up of the fictional PANDERING to CHRISTIANS, athiests took to the forums to demand this law be REVERSED. One poster summed up the new policy as "why do they hav 2 tek away or meet its DESCUSTING if christiens wont to ban beef and bacon they can f**k off bak 2 jerusalum and et all teh fish they wont this is england an im prowd to be british"

However, when challenged as to why they were not proud enough to be able to master the ability to write, spell, punctuate, gramatically construct (or even speak) English properly, they replied "im not rayshalist but this is engerlund not nazi germany we have free speach an if u dont like it u can fuk off you am a twart"

"It's ridiculous." A spokesbloke for the National Union Of Cider Refreshed Morris Dancers bewailed "Our jobs are on the line. First we were banned from our Fool having a pig bladder on a stick in case it offended someone, then we were banned from burning bobbies in anthropomorphic wicker simulacra. Now we're being banned from scoffing a cornish pasty after a hard days bashing each others stout sticks. When will these Christians stop persecuting us and eroding British tradition and heritage?"

But it's not just real ale bell-ridden flouncers OUTRAGED at David Cameron's Fish Friday policy. Mother of 8 Vikki told our reporter "Like, mah kidz, right, it's, like, their Friday Night Treat, yeah. We always go for a McDonalds, and the likkle uns well love their Big Macs innit. How do I tell ickle Beyoncé here she can't have her maccy D's and has to make do with a fillet o'fish? It's political correctness gone made! I'm voting UKUNT at the next election I am"

As the Christianitification of the UK continues, even the Great British Fry Up is at risk. Greasy spoons up and down the country are down in arms¹, as the THREAT arises.

"What about my customers?" said Mr Pigg of the Belly Buster Breakkie Café in Luton, "Every day, burly bikers and tough truckers come in for the full English. They demand the Best Of British - cheap sausages, battery hen eggs, proper English bacon from Denmark, dodgy mushrooms foraged from the abandoned overgrown car lot out back. There'll be rioting in the streets is they can only have a manky kipper risotto for breakfast. Not to mention the black meat market. Bootlegged beef under the counter, and you can bet some EU beaurocrats will be lining their own pockets, spot-checking cafés and punishing providers of meat products. Friday Fish Fines - you couldn't make it up!"

And it appears that the INFILTRATION of this law is being implemented even now. Vegan shops have already embraced this Jyhad, and WITHDRAWN all meat products from their stores. Vadgetarians, on the other hand, have been practicing Fish Friday for a long time².

In an even more EXTREME move, Polish shops have been opened in areas where there is a mass influx of Polish people, resulting in them selling only Polish products to people who desire them. Christian rights groups have expressed extreme moral OUTRAGE, citing the UKUNT mantra of "coming over here and not selling British products to British people - it's offensive. I'm not racist, but they're in Britain, and should sell British products. If they want to sell Polish crap, fuck off back to Poland and flog your crap to the Polish people over there. Not here."

But David Cameron appears UNCONCERNED about the plight of the everyday Briton, and is UNABLE to stand up against the threat of Christianity and it's demands. Once more, our EMASCULATED and powerless PM accedes to Brussel's every whim and allows mental folk who believe in Slartibartfarst to run roughshod over the ordinary British man in their MAD bid to seize power. 

Boris Johnson has thrown his support behind the Prime Minister. Ever a champion of Britain, the eccentric loon professed his love for Fish and Chips, adding that the battered repast was an iconic image of England, and saw no reason why all other white (and red) meat should be OUTLAWED with all possible haste, and Fish & Chips be the sole legal staple. 

David Cameron was unable to be reached for comment. 

¹ SO THE GREASE DOESN'T RUN UP THEIR SLEEVES

² THE DAILY FAIL IS NOT BEING CHRISTIANITYPHOBIC, HOMOPHOBIC OR RACIST -  BUT FILTHY VADGETARIANS ARE DEGENERATES (DEGENERES?) WHO CONSPIRED WITH MUSLIMS TO MURDER OUR QUEEN OF TARTS DIANA SO WE COULD OPEN OUR BORDERS TO MASS IMMIGRATION TO ALLOW MURDERERS FROM OVERSEAS TO CLAIM ASYLUM SO THEY CAN RAPE OUR CHILDREN WITHOUT FEAR OF BEING DEPORTED. AND THAT'S TRUE THAT IS, BECAUSE WE MISREPRESENTED IT FROM SOMETHING WE HEARD OFF SOMEONE WHO'S MATE SAW IT ON A WEBSITE THAT WAS DISCUSSING AN ARTICLE.

Thursday 1 May 2014

Xym's a web, any size...

No blog yesterday. No blog today. And why?

I be creating me my very own website! Dedicated to me!!

It's going to take a while to move over some of my fabulous creatives, and fill in the sections I want, so blog may be silent for a while until I finish the build.

Or I may creep back now and then inbetween!

But, looking good so far! Check out the header: