Twats & Hats...

It's deffo the hat.

The hat that inspires twats to be like that

Now, you know the trouble I used to get into down The WhatACunt whenever I wore a hat.

Hassle hassle hassle off fighty gayboy chavscum wanting to duff me up.

Well, on Sat, one of my compadrés wore a hat similar to mine, The big black hat with the phenomenally huge plumage with the skeletal centerpiece and gogglery.

And he recieved a summary punch to the gob.

One can only assume that the pissed up pugilist mistook my erstwhile compatriot for me, and tried to give him a kicking, under the misapprehension that he was me, and was after me for a previous millinery-based altercation in the past.

Or it could be that the cranial adorned one took the wanker to task for waving his wang about and widdling under a street light, like a micturating faun by the Narnian gateway to Spare-Oom. An illuminated plonker proudly presenting his pissing penis to the passing public, and took exception to someone requesting the cessation of this cesspitiful display of public pubic indencency.

But I do rather expect that my friend "took one for the team" and recieved the blow due to mistaken identity due to hattage, for many people thought he was me, and were most disappointed not to find me below my unmistakeable hat, seemingly no longer unmistakeable.

Are you stupid? Are you a stupid fool? Look at you - you can't evendrive...

How come whenever I get to the bus stop, I miss my bus home by seconds every time?

10 mins early, 5 mins early, on time, 5 mins late, 10 mins late... it matters not when I arrive. As soon as I arrive at the bus stop, it is always just pulling away.

It's like they have CCTV nearby, and purposely arrange for buses to arrive early/late to coincide their departure as I arrive.

And WorstBus, obviously, has trained it's drivers to Take A Deep Interest In BHS When Pulling Out Or Waiting By The Crossing Whilst The Lights Are Red so they can't let anyone on who they've just deliberately closed the door on. Probably cackling maniacally when they decide to depart 5/10 mins early (or running 20/25 mins late).

And you can guarantee the next bus due every half hour will take 45 mins to arrive. If at all.

That's assuming the bus even stops, because the bus stop has been filled with Taxis. Or "Fucking Taxi Driving Cunts, don't they know it's a bloody bus stop? Refusing to twatting move and fucking pulling out and doing a u-turn on St Stephen's despite that there's no u-turns allowed? Fucking bastards" as the collective of drivers said as they discussed it after boarding on Castle Meadow on their way to Vulvan Road, the driver having lamented his lot to them as they switched drivers.

What is it with selfish cunts and bus stops? Bad enough when the 36, 37, 38 and 39 all turn up at the same time at a two bus bay, but worse when cuntish cockgobblers use St Stephen's as a bus stop.

And it's always MY stop!

Oh, I see the 38 coming round the corner. Well I never! Some felcher decides to pull up right by the opening if the shelter. Stick the hazards on and pop to the cashpoint. Oh, another, and some butterball waddles out and nips into Starbucks for takeaway latté and a big bag of muffnuts, swirls, Danish pastries, and a skinny blueberry muffin (as they're watching their weight. Watching it increase, if you ask me).

Oh, some cunt has pulled in, and waiting for his missus to come out of Argos & Iceland, with a mountain of baggage that takes forever to stack in the boot properly.

Bugger, the 37 is early, and in front of the 38.

If you're lucky, the 37 stops in the middle of the road, rather than decide to simply drive on to Castle Meadow. Honk honk honk, goes the bus at the stationary cars blocking it's loading bay...

...and waits...

Honk honk goes the traffic. Honk honk goes the bus. Fuck you, goes the taxi, person at cashpoint queue, and drivers waiting to pick up their partners.

...and eventually the driver gives up and remains blocking the road, opening it's doors to allow boarding. Traffic backing up to the roundabout. A LOT of people getting off, getting on, questioning the driver, getting off again, paying with fiddly change. Honkity honk honk from the driver stuck behind & right round the roundabout. Eventually, he's off! Yay! Now comes the 38...

And if I'm lucky, the 38 stops in the middle of the road, rather than simply driving on to Castle Meadow. Honk honk honk, goes the bus at the stationary cars still blocking the loading bay...

...and waits...

Honk honk goes the traffic. Honk honk goes the bus. Fuck you, goes the taxi, person at cashpoint queue, and drivers waiting to pick up their partners and feral brood now rampaging about the bus stop and fighting in the now empty main road.
...and eventually the driver gives up and remains blocking the road, opening it's doors to allow boarding. Traffic backing up to the roundabout. A LOT of people getting off, getting on, questioning the driver, getting off again, paying with fiddly change. Honkity honk honk from the driver stuck behind & right round the roundabout. Eventually, we're off home!

Fucking Twatbadtards parking in bus stops - hanging's too good for 'em I say!!

Thoroughly enjoying pepper...

But not Pepper Potts. probably.

'twas not my day today.

Scabby scabsters five-finger discounters purloining my purchases resulting in much trekking about the city in search of elusive western heroes.

Barista bingo win - three on a row, but any erudite genitalmanly conduct of impressiveness was ruined by Starbucks spectres spilling my Gingybread latté all over me trews, and having to present myself to serving wenches all dampened about the trouserial area with caffeinated combats.

Jeremy Kyle Family At War on the omnibus. Great fat screeching fishwife with her obnoxious skinny shagpartner and brood of 8 feral offspring. All who have to have a pair of seats to each creature thing person and spread about the bus. Bellowing to each other as the brats rampage up and down and climb the poles 'accidentally' ringing the bells as the chimps run riot. Mother and son having a sweary fistfight at the back before having a kiss and make up, with Mother bragging about her pædo incest. 

Honestly, if I had my way, the parents would be thrown off the bus. Whilst moving. On a narrow bridge over a gorge. With weights attached in case they hit a river. And the kids sold off for bacon.

Today is NOT one of my better days!

Gordoors Alive!...

Oh, if Jim Morrison was alive today, he'd be rather upset to find himself somewhat entombed, which would be most distressing for him.

Anyhoo, me & my Sister went to see The Doors Alive, who are like, The Doors, but not the dead ones reanimated. In fact, they really should be called The Doors Imitating The Doors If The Doors Reformed And The Dead Ones Were Reanimated To Give The Illusion The Doors Are Still Alive. 

Or TDITDITDRATDOWRTGTITDASA for short. or something.

Anyhoo, the band itself were quite good - "Jim Morrison" sounded quite accurate, "John Densmore" looked haircutly impressive, although nothing like the modern day John Carpenter lookylikey. "Ray Manczarek" needs a new organ. Quite a few duff oscillatory tuned notes, and one hell of a misskey. Oh, and Mr Morrisson got the words of Light My Fire wrong.

But on the whole, really enjoyed it!

What spoiled it was a triplity of pissflappy cuntnuggets. 

Now, I don't mind people dancing in the mosh pit at gigs. Heck, I'm one of the first to moan about the motionless old glimmers too old to party cramming the front. What I take exception to is cockwranglers who need 5 feet of space around them.

Not because they're dancing. It's more that they're incessantly falling and recovering due to imbibing inebriating beverages, rather than actually dancing.

It began with the Tenerifie Lady, who was writhing about the railings in a MOST pleasing manner... but it was her 2 strange men causing the problem.

Constant streams of beer, lots of screaming out-of-time, staggering into people, barging about, and generally being a pair of arses annoying everyone. 

But the Cuntmeister...

...oh, this twatbag was hammered before the support had even finished. It's was so bad, he left for the bar, came back, danced for about a second and forgot he had beer, his lolloping arms casting it all over all and sundry. 

So the wankered fucker went off for more beer.

And more.

And more.

So, by the time Them There Living Porticos came on, he was thrashing about madly like Bez on a freakout. Stomping on coats, bags, feet and generally tumbling about in a 6ft area with much tuttage and exasperation from all.

Eventually, he went off for more beer, and the space filled up.

And who ended up in that space?

Me. Ousted from my prime spot at the front, and forced further into the corner.

And everyone was having a nice time.

Then arsedicker returned, lumbering and shoving till he got back to where he was. Which is now where some of us are. And all atmos is ruined as he starts staggering about.

And then he pissed his pants.

And we know this not because of his clammy bare chest or dampened low slung trews brushing up against us. Oh no.

It's the fœtid ammonial aroma arising from him. Whatever he'd had for tea, or been drinking, created a urinary miasma of such stench, even the copious quantities of eCig smoke didn't drive it out.

Then he left for more beer! Hurrah...

And came back again. Boo.

And left... and back... and...

Why is it I attract troublesome types? I must have a Fucking Cunt magnet that draws in all the ignorant, selfish, bullish, arrogant self-centred gobshites into a circle with me trapped in the epicentre?

Still, damn good show though!

The NDubz Gate...

You know when you're walking through Chav'll Thieve Gardens and you come across the abandoned detrius of unwanted rubbish?

Such as an invalided relative who's been dumped in the park coz they're too much hassle and making you pay too much Council Tax.

Which is stupid, coz chucking out your wheelchair bound Davros means their bedroom's now available, and you have to pay millions in Bedroom Tax.

But depositing the disabled in the wintery climes of the sunny park is a bit too far to walk, so you just leave them in the entrance walkway. Half way down. Facing the low stone wall.

Still, better than the pair of dumbass bitches who wandered over to Chav'll Thieve Gardens, then stood in the entrance gateway with a bike held across the opening like a gate, blocking all ingress & egress. 

Grrrr.

But all that depressive gormstery was blown from the mind, on leaving the park and seeing a Johnny Depp lookylikey opposite waiting to cross!

You know, one of them blokes who's friend has mentioned in passing "oooh, you look ever so slightly like Johnny Depp!" and they go all out to mimic the facial furniture and attire.

Which sorta fails when they are a diminutive 4ft 6in high.

Wearing a Dappy-Out-Of-NDubz hat like a twat. A twat like Dappy in that twatty hat, but trying to flaunt the Depp 'look' underneath. Imagine, Cap'n Jack Sparrow with his bandana replaced by that fucking wooly hat with the dangly furry bollocks.

Johnny Depp? Johnny Dappy, more like!

Has he got news for us...

By 'eck, we don't half get into some scrapes!

I've been compared to many peoples over the years, many inexplicable. Dustin Hoffman, Dave Vanian, etc.

But Boy George?

Now, there were many humerous adventures down the Whatacunt tonight. I would regail you with them all, but the highlight was being threatened with a duffing up by Jimmy Somerville.

We'd come out, and a triplicity of peoples somehow joined our group, one of whom bore a likeness to the Bronski meat Beater, who was clearly looking for a fight.

Presumably because his diminutive Small Town Boy Gay look needing beefing up a bit, so he was trying to be so macho. Like that Sin Eater who nobbed Simon Cowell. or something.

Anyhoo, as we made out way up King's Street, he began insulting us one by one. One of us in particular. After averting many bear fisticuffs, we managed to separate the goader & someone else.

But alas, the sarky Somerville kept on needling at Stewie, and began creeping up behind to get a fight on. 

So foolishly, everyone's favourite Chivalrous Kerniggit In Shining Ordure stepped between, to keeps them apart. But in his rage to attack, he barged past me and decided to turn his wrath upon the Xym.

"Do you want some then, Boy George? Fuck you, yeah"

Unfortunately, I was so creased up in hilarity at such an out of the blue incomprensible insult, I missed his so-called mate decide to take action, and jump on him. Upon which he fled like a little girl, and all I could think was Small Town Boy "Run Away, turn away, run away, turn away, run awaaaay", and further mirthings commenced.

Unfortunately for him, both his "mates" and someone else raced after him and gave him a right good kicking.

He wasn't so gobby or goading for a fight after that.

But he had lost his shoe, which made me laugh even more.

I should have stepped in and stopped it, but to be honest - he did deserved it. And it was well funny.

It's always an adventure when we go out.

There's a moose loose about these loos...

...and no, I don't mean drunk fugly womens in THE Whatacunt's WC!

Remember not so long back, and my fantastic Business Idea about chocolate milfshakes in toilet shaped apparatus?

Well, them damn Japanese read it and nicked me idea! a bit.

Forget bum dispensers - they have their client sit on the shitter whist eating out of bog bowls!

I know them Romans used to take a turd on the toilet whilst tasting their tempura, or whatever, but I thought we were more civillized than that!

Imagine, popping (pooping?) into a sushi bar for a soirreé, and suddenly sitting on a ceramic cesspit, when mid-Meal:. "Excuse me, I'm rather full. Excuse me whilst I log off..."

I don't want my lunch date to be dropping their knickers and scatting in the restaurant in front of me! And the afterscent - nowhere to go if you have to "give it 10 minutes, if I were you!"

One one dreads to think about public wiping! "Can we have the bill please - I need something to cleanse my posterior upon, and one is not conversant in the use of the three shells."

And I know I joked about the bumshake bottle - but this is a step too far:

I don't want my tagliatelli served in a toilet! Lookit - that Spag Bol just looks like a rather splattery deposit of diarrhoea followed by a follow-through of tapeworms making a bid for freedom!

Nice!

And woe betide you try and drop a log whilst in Nørwåy during a meal! 

For Trøll Hunters, måsqueråding ås "Møøse Hunters"² to keep the public unåwåre of secret Trøll rånges in the møuntåins, tend to miståke men øn tøilets for Trølls, I meån Møøses (Meece? Gnus?).

There you are, happily giving birth to a tarbaby, when BOOM! Dick Chaney mistakes your moonlit bumcheeks for some antlered Eurasian elk and promptly scares the shit out of you (literally) with a shotgun to the mudflaps.

It's bad enough mistaking your friend in bright orange attire for a covey of quail and shooting him the face, let alone mistaking a bare backside for an antlered deer.

Praise be hunter's don't clap eyes on some monkey lips, or they'd be at yer with their sex pistols!

¹ IT WOULD BE CALLED "STEAMPUNK ALICE'S", BE ALL STEAMPUNKY WITH TIM BURTONY MONOCHROME/ GREYSCALE WITH STRANGE LOVECRAFTIAN ANGLES AND AMES ROOM AND OPTICAL ILLUSIONS, WITH THE SERVING WENCHES ALL DOLLED UP IN SEXY ALICE OUTFITS, WITH ME AS THE MAD HATTER AND MY LOCAL SISTER AS A CLEANER, OPEN UNTIL THE EARLY HOURS OF MORN SO LATE NIGHT CLUBBERS CAN CHILL OUT WITH A CUP OF TEA.

² MOOSE HUNTERS! IS THIS AKIN TO THEM THERE "MILF HUNTERS" I HEAR ABOUT? THOSE WHO GO ON THE HUNT FOR MOOSE KNUCKLE (THE "CAMEL TOE" OF THE MORE GENEROUSLY PROPORTIONED TROLL, I MEAN, SWEDISH WOMAN [THEY'RE NØRWEGIÅN MÅC!]). OOOH - MAYBE I SHOULD RENAME MY CAFÉ "STEAMPUNK ALICE'S ALCES ALCES" AND ENSURE THOSE DRESSES ARE VERY SHORT, AND THE PANTS VERY TIGHT...

Troll a lol a lol la la lol... TAG! You're NOT it...

Why does the world have to be plagued by trolling Gormsters.

Once again, the illiterate buffoons of the eReader discussion groups are up in arms. 

This time over people using Pseudonyms. 

"Why can't people use their own names? I don't understand why anyone would want to use anything than the name they were given?" quoth some (despite having obviously false ridiculous names).

Then, one troll provided the perfect prosaic reason for their use of a nom-de-plume¹. Witness this verbose troll's supposed relevant contribution to using false names:

"I lurve you my little no voter! I bet you so cute in the morning with your little jimjams on...sitting there eating your chocopops!......dribbling little drops of milk down your new clean bib,...furry animal slippers waggling off your darling little white hairy legs....awwww! Bless! Kiss Kiss!
I imagine them (the no voters) sitting in a dark room, blinds down, with a bank of old style computers placed in a circle round a swivel chair....on top of each screen is a light..this flashes the moment someone posts on the forum...the chair with a cloaked figure slides across the room a wizened claw like hand darts from the folds of the bat like cape and a boney finger lands down on the "yes No" key...a cackle rises from the throat of a half hidden face that would strike terror into the bravest heart!......."Mwwwaaaa! the power!" in that split second an urge, stronger than cold black tea rises....and a mad dash for the toilet is called for...as two scrawny legs that wouldn't stop a pig in a passage scurry across the floor towards a cobweb infested closet...made it!"

Well, one had to make comment on such trollage. Why - doesn't this adequately demonstrate why trolls hide behind their laptops - to spew their bile and venom without fear of consequence.

And naturally, another came back with "Yeah, and you're really "The Xym" aint'cha!"

Well DUHR! Of course I'm THE Xym. A quick tour of Google quite quickly proves The Xym is The Xym². Yes, my name is slightly longer, but I am referred to as The Xym due to the singularity of Xymness. And due to the uniqueness and high esteem one is held in, one is not just "The Xym" - one is THE Xym.

But apparently, I'm wrong. Dat is mah tag, innit! 

Eh, whut? Tags are them there spraycanned graffiti names all over underpasses and desolate garage walls - The Xym is not a tag. I am human³... not a sewn in label in the seam of a shirt!

Anyhoo, I went through the Forum home page. 18 threads on there, and only 5 are unrelated to the forum.

Most of the normal, discussion threads - yep, mostly used by people with normal names. But the troll threads... oh dear. Hardly any with actual names - it's all preposterous pseudonyms. 

And the content...

...well, let's just say some people should have stayed in school. Or they're at school, trolling on their phone. Only that can explain the retardery of some of their posts.

It makes you worry about the sanity of some people. It seems they're so mentally deficient, they must stay at home in darkened rooms, deperately thinking of something "clever" to type, and the best they can come up with is the barely literate ramblings of a loon!

"Much like this blog then, eh!" ← Reader's voice

Oi! Watch it!

At least this blog allows some form of intellectual stimulation with no constrained limitations. A dedicated forum for a specific device may limit the content somewhat, but the best these gormsters contribute is stuffs like:
"complain the bewildered bugs"
"Whatever happened to "Mr Pastry?"...eric I have to ban ya...the Goodies!!!???"
""Bzzz!" say the bees."
"Gin smells o perfume. All whiskys smell diferent"

All advice which, we can clearly agree, I can apply to my Kindle Touch when I get home! And they're at this all day! 

Oh, but Amazon have a handy voting tip! You can get the trollcrap filtered out by voting posts that add nothing to the discussion as adding nothing to the discussion! Enough people vote, and the posts get hidden! yay!

On the downside, they also have a Yes option, so the trolls band together under their bridges, and block vote them back in again, so you're back with pages and pages of childish drivel.

For example, remember that trolling abuse above? 2 people, yes TWO PEOPLE have voted that as being a contribution that adds to the discussion of Kindles. To me - IT DOES NOT! It's a troll post casting aspersions on asparagus other people!

Personal abuse, or an insight into Kindle functionality that could enhance my eReading experience?

Well, at least 2 people think the latter, so The Xym must be wrong.

Unless, of course, it's one of the Troll Clan who have registered many times to fill up the forum with their gibberish, and using their alter-egos to bump up the votes on their own posts. I really can't see how some of these posts get Yes votes, when they are naught more than outright insults or childish mewlings.

I mean - honestly. They complain about people having no life, for simply spending two minutes running down a screen and voting retarded fuckwittery as being irrelevant crap. Yet they spend all day thinking up and posting incomprehensible twattery to out-incomprehense and out-twat the previous incomprehensible twatmeister of a poster!

The mind veritable boggles!

¹ NOT TO BE CONFUSED WIT' DA MODERN TRANSLATION, NOM ON PLUMS, WHICH IS TEABAGGING, INNIT BRUV, YA GIT ME BLOOD, P'TSHAW. OR SUM'TIM'. YEAHMON.

² WELL, MAYBE NOT SO MUCH A QUICK SEARCH ANYMORE. AS THE XYM BECOMES MORE AND MORE FAMED THROUGHOUT THE LAND (AS WELL AS FURRIN SHORES), SO PEOPLE HONOUR HIM BY NAMING THEIR STUFFS AFTER HIM! A CHINAMAN HAS NAMED A BOUTIQUE IN CHIANG MAI AFTER ME, AND A KOREAN HAS NAMED A MOTEL IN DAEGU AFTER ME. THERE'S PROBABLY OTHER STUFFS MY ADORING FANS HAVE ALL NAMED AFTER ME - AFTER ALL, MANY ARE THE LUSTFUL PRETTIES DOWN THE WHATACUNT WHO'VE NAMED THEIR VIBE IN MY PHALLIC HONOUR. AND THAT'S ACTUALLY TRUE, THAT IS. PROBABLY. OR NOT. AS THE CASE MAY BE. OR SOMETHING.

³ AND I NEED TO BE LOVED, JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE DOES. PREFERABLY BY CAROL PHWOARDERMAN, CLAWED EAR WANKLEMAN, HELL I'D-BONE-HER CARTER, ETC, ETC...

Only got 20 gold in my coin purse...

Clearly I haven't wakey'd up yet!

So, I was off in London (to buy Heat Magazine) on Saturday - and what a night it was!

Liqueur as ever were excellent. Only downside was one of my pet hates...

...twatbags who refuse to remove their backpacks!

All through the gig, some inconsiderate lardarse was just swirling left and right with a backpack on! Suffice to say the gormstress was unaware of centrifugal forces, and with every swing it's humpty back was clobbering peoples left and right.

Grrrrrr!

But after the gig, it was back to trad goff on the dance floor!

And poor old Fatboy Xym was hemmed into the corner by a pair of Pretties (phwoar!).. .and three humongously huge lardy blokes. One of whom is what people tend to regard as "a proper fucking cunty bastard".

But, after 4½ hours of literal non-stop flouncy dancing for myself and in absentia Sisters and Pretties, ye olde Xym had to go for a bit of a rest. With a break in the burly boppers, Xym dived though the gap to the "cinema" for a cooling down...

...just as The Fifth Element came on! What a way to end the evening - Booze, Liqueur, more boze, Tradgoff dance, more boze fer t'baby, and Milla Jovovich to round it off!

And then make my lonesome way off to the tube to come home, all widey wake after nay sleeps. I know - get on the first carriage of the train! Everyone goes to the furthest carriages so they're at the front of the station when they arrive. I can have a sleep in an empty carriage!

Oh noes! Here comes da Norwich Possé! Yikes - they've seens me, and taken the two adjoining tables. Rats cocks - now I have to stay awake lest I fall asleeps and I end up snoring and disturbing all their beauty sleeps!

Think I kept awake - not sure if I dozed off for 10 mins during The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies Of The Apoocalyse, but nayone was scowling at me for keeping them from their Morphean slumbers, so I think I gots away with it!

Anyhoo - gets back into Norwich, and it seems that my Sister has embarassed herself in my absence down The Whatacunt. Oh dear - have to keep a special eye on her next time we're out, and put a stop to any unwarrented public denuding. Still, no-one's going to remember her embarassing incident, for their main concern would have been "Where's her brother? Where's stylish Xym? Why isn't he here?".

For sorrow and disappointment of the lack of Xymonial presence takes precedence over any shaming that may have occurred.

So, I'm home and quick catch up. F1... Vettel's on pole. No point watching then. Vettel will sail to Victory as Webber's car has some 'issue' that puts him waaaay down the pack around 8th place. Hamilton will remain in 5th as Nico comes in 2 places above or behind. Alonso will either come 6th, 4th or 2nd, with Kimi either right behind or just in front. Massa will be as lacklastre as he has been ever since his accident...

Nah - sod it. I'll just have some sleeps interspersed with a bit of telly and tea, and that Thrift Shop going through me head, and wondering why no-ones' done a Skyrim version...

♪  I'm gonna pop some Draughr

Only got 20 gold in my coin purse

I - I'm a-hunting, lookin' for Alduin

I am fucking awesome

I won't wear Falmer's clothes

I look incredible

I wear this dragon scale

Forged in Whiterun by my home

Took an arrow to the knee

I know you all hate me

I work for Belathor

In the gen-er-al goods store ♪

and.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...... Yikes! Almost oversleepies afore work!

Oh wow - mine follicle arrangement is still all crimptasticly vertical, with naught but a bit o'spray to keep in place!  Showery showery - mind the perfect hair! But The Xym aches. Oh, how he aches. Get to Starbucks and get some coffee down me neck!

Piss on a Pope! Good job I can use me phone, coz me wallet ain't in me pocket! Shitnuts! Hope it's on the stairs. Or sofa. Or somewhere. and I hasn't lost it betwixt house/carpark/Starbucks and work. And I needed to draw out some money today to cover the car service tomorrow :(

And I gets to work... oh jizzflaps. Shiny lights in lift reflecting off... yeah - should have dunked me barnet, for one had forgotten it was filled with copious quantities of glitter!

Who'd be me, eh

Not me, that's for sure!

:(

Human beings? Goklayeh, ho...

With apologies to my American friends - I know you're not all like these cretins!

Ah, the good old USA.

Seems they still have Miss America over there. I think Britain banned such degredation such as Miss Britain/Miss World on the telly for being sexist - old pervy judges ogling hot babes in swimsuits and inflicting low-esteem upon Pretties by pointing out every minor flaw as some huge statement of being a fugly troll.

Anyhoo...

This year... shock horror! Not only do they have their first Black President... they now have their first black Miss America!

And America doesn't like it. No sir, not one bit.

Nina Davuluri, an Indian-American, born and raised in New York, became Miss New York before becoming Miss America. A true American living the American dream. I'm not sure when her ancestors migrated to the Land Of The "Free" And Home Of The Brave, but no matter how many generations of her linage have resided in America, she is 100% a US Citizen.

But not American, apparently.

Upon the result, lardy sausage fingered M^cDonalds fed butterballs rolled off the sofa and extracted their laptop from the folds in their gut, and took to The Twitter and The FarceBook to vent their anger: 

"I'm not a racist, but this is AMERICA, not INDIA!"

"Miss New York? Way to remember 9/11 - FAIL!"

"How can a black person win Miss AMERICA? SHE SHOULD BE WHITE!"

"How the fuck does an Arab Terrorist from Arabia win Miss AMERICA?"

"She's a muslim. How can a foreigner be American?"

"We're Americans - we want Indiana Jones, not Bindi-Anna Jones!"

And on and on they rant, showing the world exactly why other countries hate them, and proving that they're thick as pigshit racist retards.

I mean - even if she was from India, that would make her Indian, not an Arab. I guess to these 'merkins, anyone who's black and not a Negro On The Plantation must be an Arab. And therefore a terrorist.

After all, she openly bared her body in a swimsuit in the competition. I guess these Twinkie scoffing fools mistook her Bikini for a Bhurka, concealing bombs in her bikini'd boobs or something to throw down the decadent West. Wearing a bikini would clearly hint at her not being a radical Muslim, otherwise she'd be head to toe in black.

And I note that although her ethnicity is clearly given as Indian-American, somehow these 'merkins miss that second bit. You know, that bit that says -AMERICAN.

That said, maybe we should have these clueless poltroons to have their own way. Miss America should be American. Let's see how they like it...

...when not a single "white" "American" is allowed in. After all, who are the real Americans? Does the word Native in Native-American ring a bell? Let's have Blackfoot, Pawnee, Cheyanne, Crow, Apaché, Arapaho, etc - no-one descended from them genocidal terrorists that invaded The West and hounded the true Americans across the plains and interred them in the Concentration Prisoner-Of-War Camps reservations and persecuted them for generations...

Return the Land to Gitché Manitou, and let a real American win Miss America! No immigrants, no matter how many generations were born & bred in the US of A!

Or, accept that America is now a culturally diverse place, where it's citizens can proudly live in the land where they are all free, and not home of the cowardly bunch of racist retards.

Go on, America - feel beneath the white. Do you feel a redskin suffering (from centuries of taming?)

It's all lies, they're not even square...

Right,

This came up on Farcebook today.

Now, instantly I could see 40-odd squares, yet some clueless gormsters were putting waaay less than 36, which is the bloody minimum number of squares (like 1 waffle has 4 square holes, in the shape of a square, on a square waffle = 6 squares. 6 waffles = 6x6 = 36. What the fuck do they teach in schools these days?)

Anyhoo, Pedantic, insufferable, smug gits will try and act all clever like, and point out that the answer is Zero, as there are no actual squares due to deformation of potato, and therefore with no true straight lines nor 90° angles, there are no squares.

Such people need a punch in the tits for being general gobshites of smug dumbass retardery.

In the spirit of mathematical, geometrical analysis, let us presume that these waffles represent true squares. Mentally realign, and let's deduce the number of squares within.

A brief analysis in Starbucks gave me a total of 55 squares, but now I'm home, a quick stylus overlay on the iPad, and I gets at least 111. And that's without rectangles - not even rectangles in the "there are 4 sides so a rectangle is, essentially, a square" as justified by cretinous thickos.

111, Xym? How the buggery fuck do you work that out?

Yay for screen capture, for here I show you a build up of 111 squares. Apologies for lack of neatness - if I had time, I'd create a neat version in photoshop, with a nice little animatic flashing up each square.

But I gotta tart meself up for The WhatACunt tonight, so ner!

Gash in the attic...

It had to happen at some pointt.

So, you've run out of ca$h, so to raise funds you call in them there bargain cunts to ransack your upper edifice in search of loot.

And so the BBC arrive and rummage about and come across what may be a valuable old Persian Kilim....

And it's at that point you remember you really should have removed the body of your husband you murdered 30 years ago before inviting Aled Jones in to hunt for treasure.

What's makes it even better is the village in Somerset - the village of Quimm!

Now, you're probably expecting more minge based pervatoricality, but you' be wrong. For death in Quimm (f'narr f'narr), Somerset pit me in mind of Midsomer Murder, and thus Midsummer and gormsters.

Not so long back, I was despairing at the lack of gaia's seasonal phases. Now, someone else has stared being as dumb as a sett full of post Gordon Ramsey sex dwarf twin consumption badger defacations.

Anyhow, the clueless wonder was blathering on about how it's officially Summer, as 21st June is mid-Summer, like middle of Summer.

Dumbass!

Firstly, it's not mid-Summer, it's Midsummer.

Second, Midsummer comes from ye olden dayʃ, and in olde Engliʃh, mid meant ʃtart,  beginning, geneʃiʃ, etc. ergo, ye olden feʃtival of midʃummer denoteʃ the ʃtart of ʃummer!

Honeʃtly, do they teach kidʃ nothing theʃe dayʃ ?

He'll be the Xym by the kerb...

In the gutter...

Oopsie!

Looks like The Xym is out of a job soon!

Some people are right miserable, useless gormsters, who burst into tears at the drop of a hat, and complain about you because of the ingrained idiocy.

See I was extremely busy t'other day. In the midst of complicated coding, compiling and expediting, requiring a lot of concentration.

Unfortunately, some tool had the idea to roll out an office tool called Communicator, which is an instant messaging thingy. So some creting will, at the drop of a hat, send you a message that pops on on the screen and interrupts your business.

Unfortunately, I'm not very tolerate of incompetent tomfoolery from crybabies who still think The Xym is psychic.

The interruption was:
"Some user has some difficulty on some system. Can you add the user to some tables".

Which, as a request, is somewhat less than moronic. Not only do I not know what user they're blathering on about, I have no idea what this difficulty is. Nor do I know what system it is. Come to mention it, they don't even explain what tables need this user adding to!

And apparently, I'm in trub for being unhelpful!

And I couldn't have picked a worse time, coz we're about to have another reorg (who'd've thunk it!), and I'm now right at the top of the radar and the firing line of redundance is pointed at unhelpful ole me.

OK, so I may have been a bit sarcastic in pointing out that asking their request was like me asking him to change some SQL to get that report correct with the specific figures for that system on that database for a particular spreadsheet.

But no - Xym is the bad guy because some 'tard thought "someone having some problem with something and need to be added to something somewhere" is an acceptable request to me.

If you ask me, is the gobshite who pesters you with dumbass queries who should be sacked! If you can't manage to formulate your request in a fashion that can be interpreted, you deserve being made redundant.

Me - I'd've said: "Hi, User [user's name/ID] cannot [log on/process data/gets message {message shown}] when using [Name of System]. I think it's because they're [not on/removed from] table [table name]. Can you add them in please, or do I have to raise a request to your team?"

Obviously not - that would be too helpful. Clearly I'm supposed to suck it up and not challenge the vagueness of unspecified users having unspecified problems on an unspecified system, and just go ahead and add the unspecified users to an unspecified table.

So it looks like Xym's heading for unemployment when the next reorg comes along.

Still, at least them I can join the Jeremy Kyle set, which my days off have shown are nothing but staying on the dole having unprotected sex all day long with multiple partners, with the occasional break for a drugs fix.

Remember to toss a coin in my flamboyant hat when you see me huddled in the Iceland Doorway, now the other tramp has been evicted.

Mouth, mouth, let it flow out...

These are the things Xym could do without

saying

When yobs are threatening Xym

He plows on

In violent times, Xym should learn some voice control
It's black and white for yobs who really ought to know (better)
They mock Xym's voice, and take him for an Eton boy!¹
Wave them goodbye², Xym shouldn't have to stand for this.

Xym really shouldn't...

Speak! Speak!

Keep it discreet!

Xym's gob runs on like Usain Bolt's feet!

Shut up!

He's listening to you!

So shut up!

He picked a fight, and in return Xym rang verbal rings
This wound yobs up, but still Xym lived to tell the tale
The ignoramus tells the tale!

Xym! Xym! Ignorant Xym!

So said the gobshite defending his Quim!

Come on!

As if Xym's a threat!

Come on!

And when Xym's taken down his guard,

He'll attack from behind - because he thinks he's fookin' hard!

As if I broke his 'tarded heart!

'tashe! 'tashe!

Frothing the gash!

This must be why Xym is singled out!

In case

their missus runs off with Xym

as if!

Yes, another altercation down The Whatacunt at ShitPloppin' from a yobbo spoiling for a fight. And in record time too - not even 15 mins in and a laughable loon is trying to berate The Xym for their retardery!

Seems passing on the opposite side of the corridor creates such a breeze, it swayed him a bit when using the cash machine (Wot a retard! Fancy coming out to the Whatacunt with no cash in the first place!).

Later, on a return passing - you know when you can sense what's going to happen? Gobshite is deliberately blocking the door - and you just know as you pass by he's going to deliberately step back. And he did - spilling my sticky drink all over me hand and sleeve. But did I complain? Nah - just met up with other.

And then, he went all ninja cat.

We're sat in the smoking area at the far end. Suddenly - he's standing the door. Out of the corner of they eye, you see him step, step, freeze. Look around shiftily. Creepy, creepy. Eventually mouthing off something. Much of the demand "look at me! Look at me! Ya fookin' ignoramus! Oi! ya bastid!".

I tried to keep quiet, but I kept conversing with my companion... unfortunately bewailing my lot of having cockends badger me, t which he took further exception, concluding with that he "wouldn't fuck off unless you make me, and I'll fookin' have ya, ya ignorant fucker. Come on then!"

To which we pointed out we'd just have him ejected. So we just pointed him out to the doorman, and went back in, leaving him having a tantrum about how Xym should be watched.

Yeah. Right.

Laters, we're upstairs, when the creep sidles up again and starts up again with his yelling. Luckily, his missus was there and pushed him away. Then, he went into full rant mode about me doing something with his missus and how he'd take me on again. Muscling forward with outstretched arms in "come on hit me" mode. Then his missus stepped in again and dragged him off kicking and screaming like a petulant child.

Ah. THAT seems to be the problem. His missus wasn't an ex of mine. I hadn't spoken to her. I hadn't ogled her up, or even performed any comedic lecherous finger wriggling³. And yet he's paranoid about me doing something with her!

I suspect it's the 'tashe - men get all jealous that their women will all run off with me because of the melodramatic moustache of twiddly Victorian villany. or something.

Still, makes a change from obsessed gayboys pestering me coz I won't bum 'em, I guess!

¹ HA HA HA! THE KNUCKLE DRAGGING NEANDERTHAL'S VERSION OF STARTING A FIGHT WAS TO REFUTE XYMS DISMISSAL OF HIS POSTURING BY REPEATING EVERYTHING XYM SAID IN A POSH VOICE. BOTH MANCS QUERIED WHY HE WAS SPEAKING A NORTHERN ACCENT IN A POSHO FASHION - IT REPLIED...
"THAT'S HOW YOU SPEAK, THAT IS!"
OH MY WORD! SOMEONE'S BEEN WATCHING HISTORY TODAY ON NEWMAN AND BADDIEL! ABOUT 15 YEARS TOO LATE...

² *AHEM* SEEMS WHEN XYM THOUGHT HE SAID "JUST WALK AWAY. GO AWAY. JUST... GO AWAY.", ACCORDING TO ONE PRESENT, THEY HEARD IT COME OUT AS "OH, JUST FUCK OFF, YA COCK. FUCK OFF. JUST... FUCK OFF." SEEMS SOME PEOPLE NEED THEIR EARS WAXING OUT!

³ SOMETHING I HAVEN'T DONE IN A LOOOONG TIME! I HAVEN'T DONE THE RICK MAYALL COMEDY PERVE THING FOR AGES - THINK I SHALL HAVE TO SAVE IT UP AND BRING IT OUT WITH THE BIG GUNS FOR FEARME BOTTOM'S POST WEDDING WEEKEND AT RESISTANZ!

Let 'em fall if they want...

as they break their bones

'coz they can't even manage traffic cones!

So sang Lady Gaga with Beyoncé Knowles, where she kills off loads of people in a restaurant.

And how true it is, for once again the local yokels try to kill themselves by making a prat(fall) of themselves.

Duke Street Hazard - fools falling over frozen flooring...

...just like the General Lee hitting a ramp and flying through the air

See, when you're traversing the current Ice Age, and you come upon a huge patch of ice, and traffic cones block off the path so you don't take a tumble, wotcha gonna do?

Head straight for the middle of the traffic cones and walk through.

Unsuprisingly, the retards then slip upon the ice that the barrier warned them about.

Apart from deliberately ignorning the warning of traffic cones barring your way, there are even dumber dumbasses.

So. You're walking towards the patch of ice. You see a gormster in front hit it, pinwheel their arms, and get thwown to the fwoor vewwy woughly. So, wotcha gonna do? Cross the road? Dart around the ice rink into the clear bit of road and bypass it?

Don't be so bloody stupid! Of course, you wait for the slippee to arise and scramble off the ice, then follow straight onto the same slippery path and end up on yer arse!

Even when some young Pretty is constantly repositioning the traffic cones that get displaced with each cretin that slides into them. Even when she clearly says "watch out", people just ignore her, wander on...

...and fall flat on their arse!

And then come the scummy mummies with their perambulators.

Quite why these gomstresses feel it necessary to take their newborn spawn out into the freezing cold in a wheeled vehicle onto precarious pavements paved with ice is beyond me. But, against all the above visual clues and warnings, they still insist on trying to traverse the icy wastelands and almost tip your sprog into the river...

...well, a clear case of Darwin Awards! I would say it would take these dozy donuts out of the gene pool...

...if the gene pool wasn't frozen over!

"Oh, that poor person ignored the barricade and fell over. Ha ha ha. Oh, and another one! Oh, the LOLz! Oooh, better get back for the 2 Jeremy Kyle repeats on ITV2+1. I think I'll just push my pram over that same precipitous point where them people took a tumble. It's not like I'm gonna fall, break me neck and let my babby slide into the road to be run over... yeaaaarrrggh! Who put that nana skin there!"

Wot a bunch of spazmoids!

Even the filmer of this spectacle of slippery stumbles is stupid! I make it 22 clips in the video - and he put it on YouTube! At £250 for every clip, he could've made £5,500 out of You've Been Framed! What an idiot! And I think you get £250 every time they show a clip, so imagine the revenue they could've got on repeat shows and other Winter specials!

Some people, eh!

ALL the things in threads...

No, not the library - Internetz forumz!

That hive of trolls, illiterati and opinionated gormsters¹.

Now, I've rather foolishly joined forums before. And I did note that any comment is utterly assailed with a plethora of abuse from ill-informed gobshites.

There are times I truly wished I was a gormster, and could descend to the ignorance of others.

Anyhooo I dropped out, and rather foolishly joined others. Primary as a lurker to follow advice, new releases, cheap deals, etc.

But woe is Xym, for he cannot keep his great big fat gob shut!

Never mind the "Carl McCoy doesn't know his own lyrics, I know what they actually are, not what he sez they are" debacle from the Gormrazers (fucksake, they were arguing over Dawnrazor, Carl's wife Lynn calligraphed them, and put them on the official website. Apparently, those lyrics are wrong - despite sounding exactly like what's sung. Gormrazors always know better - like forming twat towers blocking everyones view and waving nemo fish about like retards).

Anyhew, one forum is dedicated a specific subject. One subject, that is, and one subject only. And sometimes it's hard to find relevant stuff on it, coz the forum is spammed with irrelevant shite.

Now, this particular subject is the Kindle. Problems, eBooks, purchasing, apps, etc.

So some woman starts a topic on "HELP! Is this dress suitable for a wedding, or is it to Office-y".

Unsurprisingly, it got panned for being off topic. Until someone said "What's so strange about this - why can't ladies have fashion sense?"

And, foolish fat boy that I am, I told them.

I happened to mention that it comes across that it's reinforcing stereotypes - that of the thick blonde bimbo who thinks only "dresses, dresses, dresses"². Why else come onto a forum dedicated to discussing Kindle to derail it by babbling airheadedly about dresses? How on earth is pondering a party dress related to a Kindle, or Kindle eBook? It's not, which makes the poster either a spamming troll deliberately clogging up the thread with irrelevant trivial tosh, or a gossiping gormster who can't distinguish between an electronic device and attire. Surely if they want to discuss fashion, they post on a fashion thread, not an eReader thread!

All couched in my usual, inimitable, flowery style.

Suffice to say I was instantly hit with abuse by a triplicity of dress obsessed ogresses.

'snot my fault they can't comprehend that a Kindle Discussion Forum is a Forum to Discuss Kindles, and not the place to witter on about dresses, boyfriends, shoes and the fact that it's too wet to put the washing out (all actual previous discussions of great import to Kindle)! You'd think they'd have the sense to take such irrelevance to some Loose Women type forum, where they can bitch about men and geeks to their hearts content, revelling in taffeta, cakes and other stuff unrelated to eBooks and their ilk that they keep spamming the thread with.

Still, as it's not relevant to the forum, I had my say and left. No doubt I'm still being trolled and slagged off, but hey-ho, if people are too dumb to understand what Kindle Discussion Forum means, and that I'm not reading it³ because it's off-topic, more fool them! Let them expunge their venom to their hearts content - keeps them off the main thread, so everyone else can see some actual topics discussing Kindles!

[EDIT] Just had a quick squit for Blog purposes - 24+ replies since the harpies first descended... dare I look at the predictable comments....

...oh go on!

...yep, about what you would expect:
● Xym is a jealous woman with shoulder chips.
● Xym is a mysoginist.
● The Xym is not The Xym, it's just a false account specifically created to post under a false name⁴.
● Why can't talking about dresses be related to a Kindle Discussion? Just because it's a Kindle Discussion Forum doesn't mean we should only discuss Kindles⁵.
● Oooh, he must be loving us airheads lezzing it up on the forum
● He's only commented on this thread - must have a thing about dresses.

And now they've progressed on to discussing their knickers. Oooh, be a devil and wear none to the party!

Yes dear, I stand corrected. Your pants at a wedding are truly relevant to a Kindle discussion!

¹ NATURALLY, EXCLUDING THE XYM!

² SEE TWO PINTS OF LAGER AND A PACKET OF CRISPS, SERIES 3, EPISODE 6. CURIOUSLY ALSO ENTITLED DRESSES, DRESSES, DRESSES!

³ WHOA - BACK UP THERE XYM! IF YOU'RE NOT READING IT COZ IT'S OFF TOPIC, HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO COMMENT ON IT IN THE FIRST PLACE!
WELL - IN MY DEFENCE, I WAS GOING FOR THE DAY'S FREE EBOOK LINK, BUT ACCIDENTALLY HIT ONE OF THE SPAM THREADS, AND IMMEDIATELY SAW PEOPLE WERE COMPLAINING WHY PEOPLE WERE COMPLAINING ABOUT THREADS ABOUT DRESSES. I FINALLY DECIDED TO SAY WHY PEOPLE WERE COMPLAINING ABOUT IRRELEVANT THREADS, THEN BUGGERED OFF OUT OF IT! MAKE A STINK THEN LEAVE, LIKE FARTING IN A LIFT. THAT'S THE WAY TO GO!

⁴ WELL, I'M SURPRISED PEOPLE THINK THAT THE XYM IS NOT THE XYM, BUT SOMEONE PRETENDING TO BE THE XYM BY NICKING THE NAME OF THE XYM WITHOUT THE XYM'S KNOWLEDGE! THE XYM ACTUALLY IS THE XYM, YOU DUMBASS'S! THE XYM DOESN'T HIDE BEHIND FALSE ID'S! NO PSEUDONYM XYM!!

⁵ UM... YES! THAT'S WHY IT'S A KINDLE DISCUSSION FORUM, AND NOT A DRESSES FORUM, YOU THICK COW!