Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Shooting people - Cost effective?

I was a little stuck on what to write about today, so I asked for a bit of help from my Facebook friends.  Benji Hardcore came up with an interesting topic, his words were; ‘Why don’t you do an in-depth report on how it is more cost-effective to beat people to death rather than shoot them’.  He then added; ‘Use it or I will’.  So I thought ’screw you Ben-der Hardcore, it’s my topic now’.

I don’t really know how ‘in-depth’ I can get on this particular subject but I’ll have a bash.
To be fair, I have never owned a gun, nor have I ever shot anyone.  I have been informed by my local dodgy dealer that I could get a gun from Manchester for about £150.  It would probably be a modified replica but no doubt it would be good enough to ‘pop a cap in yo’ ass’.  However, I would then have to buy ammunition for it.  Ammo is pretty expensive I’ve heard.

So say I’m just out to get one person, it’s going to cost me like £200 to get the job done… quite expensive really.

If, on the other hand, I decided instead to just jump the cunt on his/her (I don’t discriminate when it comes to beating people) way home from the kebab shop on a Friday night, I could do that shit for free.  The only problem is that I then have to clean up, I mean, there’s going to be bits of face on my hands and clothes, which means I have to work out how to use the washing machine.  I guess I could get my Mum to do it though…

Anyway, to me, free definitely sounds better than £200.  So in this case I would have to say that shooting would not be cost effective.  Win for ‘just beating people’.

Does this translate to the military?

Hmmm… Now, our military is pretty big and they don’t use dodgy guns bought from ‘Big Dave’ who lives in Manchester, they are packing the real shit.  I mean there must be millions of pounds worth of guns within the British Armed Forces.  Although, it would be rather a lot harder to ‘just beat’ someone who is packing an RPG or who is strapped with plastic explosives.  So paying for the guns is probably worth it.  Win for ’shooting people’.

If however both parties involved in the fighting agreed to ‘just beat each other’ everything would be better.  It would be a totally fair fight, and also a lot cheaper for everyone.  No need for guns, tanks or armour.  Everyone could just meet up on a neutral piece of ground and have a massive fight.  Not only would it save both Nations money, it would also be truly awesome.  I would pay to watch that.  ESPN could PPV that shit.  Win for ‘beating people’.

So there we go.  In summary; just beat people.  Unless they are packing heat, in which case ‘bust a cap in them yo’.

This is a re-post from my new blog <--- Check that shit out. Seriously.

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

Celebrity Deaths - We have a winner

Naturally, first up is the bit where we wish all our readers a very happy new year.. and all that.

Next though, it seems Adam is 2009's Celebrity Death Predictions winner. So, very well done indeed, you cheating bastard.

So, for our first post of the year there is good and bad news. As you can tell, things have been winding down here, because the written blog will be ending soon and will simply remain here as a shrine to our genius. The other news is that we shall live on via the medium of video/internet TV!

This is still being worked out, but expect us on your screens in the Spring.

Note, how I didnt specify which was the good or bad news? I'll leave that up to you.

Saturday, 24 October 2009

I'm here, again . . .

Why hello there, lads and ladies.

Fully aware that I rarely post, and that to be honest few people give a shit either way, I'm slightly dubious about inflicting my own uneducated views of the World around us upon you. But seeing as how I have this medium to do so, (cheers for that one Ben, my old mucker), I'm going to do so regardless.

Firstly, I have become an avid X Factor pervert. I initially began watching it religiously last year, as a way to keep my Missus on her toes, as it gave me the perfect excuse to letch at the rather delectable Miss Tweedy (Cole, my arse).
That said, only this year have I started to really appreciate what some people on this programme have to offer.
As far as I am concerned, that Essex bird Stacey Solomon is the proverbial mutt's nuts. Her rendition of Coldplay's "The Scientist" is without a doubt one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard performed. It is not like to me to speak in such terms, just ask any of my entourage, but if that was released as a single it would storm the charts. Absolutely amazing.

There are certain events happening in circles closer to my own heart, or at least closer to my own profession, in the media. I refrain from commenting, partially throuigh fear of reprisals, but mostly because this is not really an appropriate forum.

Recently I have simply been getting on with life, which is hardly worth a mention here.

However, what is certainly worth a mention is the fact that it seems I attract nicknames like a tramp on the streets of Blackpool attracts the attentive conversation of Ben and myself, particularly when suited and booted, and bored whilst waiting for out turn in a cash point queue.

To date I have attracted a series of nicknames in my unit. Rather than be known by my usual tag of Sheepay, a pseudonym that my significantly embarassed better-half is still attempting to get to grips with, I seem to gain prefixes relative to whatever depraved act I have recently been documented as committing.

I arrived at my unit in the company of a good friend, also known as Dan. It was decided early on that two young men named Dan must be referred to as "The Two Dans," a collective term that still rears its ugly head from time to time.
And so, Dan 1 and Dan 2 were given due designation. I began this term as Dan 1.

A few weeks into this post I was given the task of laying a makeshift (read: highly illegal, unauthorised and cowboy effort) telephone line so my boss could take all those important calls. This involved tapping into an existing line, routing it through to his office.

To ensure everything was as tidy as possible I taped the line along walls to keep it away from prying fingers. If there is one universal truth then it is that ANYTHING can and will be destroyed by a bored squaddie, so everything and anything is kept as far from them as possible until needed. Bloody louts.

This particular taping tasking required me to be on hands and knees, a position which became the centre of firstly ridicule -

"Fnar Fnar, polish my knob while you're down there, Dan 1."

and slowly led into physical abuse, with every single comedian putting the boot in. As the new lad, and extremely junior, it was par for the course. Until, of course, it was par no more.

After being subjected to a dozen or so physical attacks I began to lose my almost infinite temper. One poor lad, Steve, was to be the recipient of a retaliatory effort not quite comparable to the storming of Normandy, but monumental nonetheless.

Having watched everyone else walk past and give me a nudge, and having watched me roll arse-over-tit in a hilarious fashion once more, Steve decided it was his turn.
My apoplectic rage manifested itself in the form of pure aggression, which was a surprise no less for me than for he.

Turning swiftly, I avoided his ill-timed kick, shot upwards, grabbed the nearest object and swung for his head.
I'd picked up the desk in-tray, and the ancient, brittle plastic shattered into a hundred pieces over his skull. The tray was not heavy and he was unhurt, but shocked beyond measure. He could not have looked more shocked had I slapped him across the face with an erection.
The surreal nature of the attack proved too much for Steve and the congregation, who to a man bent double with laughter.
From that moment I was to be known as "Evil Dan," although it was noted that anybody who wished to have a go did so whilst I was out of reach of stationary.

Next time, the origins of the nickname "Gay Dan." I may even include a poo story for you.

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Youtube should stick to video hosting

I've been meaning to write this piece for years, but have never got round to it until now.

If we've learned nothing else on our voyage of discovery together, and we haven't, we've still learned that the internet is populated in the vast majority by cretinous, egotistic morons with too much time on their hands. The end result of which, is youtube.

As a resource, no-one can argue that youtube is great. We use a fair amount from the 1% of its content that can't be described as "shit" on this very site, and it hosting these clips on our behalf is most helpful.. but..

Leave aside all the shit videos.. and there are plenty.. for just a second, and let's concentrate on some real issues here.

Just like with blogging, youtube is useable by all, which menas there is absolutely zero quality control. Could you imagine if TV channels were this hit and miss..and miss.. and miss?

I can't play professional football because I'm lanky, lazy and hopeless at football, Hugh Fearnley-whittingstall can't be a model because his face is on inside-out, and no-one wants to see a video of you jumping into a river from a bridge.. because you're a twat. Life is unfair, I'm sorry. It's just you're ruining the internet and so now trying to find some useful resource is quickly becoming impossible, beneath layers and layers of pointless 5 second videos and the insane ramblings of a million people who could be medically diagnosed as idiots.

A perfect case in point is a series of videos released by a group of Republican Americans, whom we know to be misguided at best, and fanatically cretinous and vile at their worst. This short series of videos, delivered on behalf of some mad man, by a woman with unlikely hair informs us that the British Government is actually in cahoots with the Dutch in an Anglo-Dutch empire, whom control America's leaders like puppets to force through a green, liberal agenda. The goal of which she describes as "obvious". I promise you, it isn't. Turns out you see, that the goal of this coalition and its tireless work toward hydro-electric dams, solar powered badgers and cars that run on tears of joy is.. genocide.

Quite how this is all linked she doesn't say, nor does she tell us quite how all this green movement results in genocide. I learned somethig though, that my most fervent wish is that she has since been locked away and quietly murdered.

This is truly just the tip of the iceberg, US site "The Onion", really does a far better job of mocking such people than I ever could;

Deeper investigation of Youtube's content unveils a long list of hate filled comments to innocent users, blatant lies, idiocy of epic proportions and most alarmingly, truly amazing levels of arrogance.

Random people simply arguing the toss about concepts of which they have no real knowledge, from who would have won the cold war had it got nasty, right through to time travel and a deep space exploration.

There I was watching a European space agency video on deep space propulsion, only to be told helpfully by a user named; reachingskies , that the video was "unrealistic" and then another moron chipped in adding that he could think of two better forms of deep space propulsion. Well, thank God they were there to clear that up for me, for a second there a collection of the World's most pre-eminent rocket scientists almost had me duped. Luckily, the users of youtube were there to keep me on the straight an narrow.

So, the message of today's update is, in summary, "It's all completely hopeless".

Try and have a good day.

Hitler - Complaints

Ok, so some of you don't seem too happy with us allowing Hitler into the fold. We were going to address these concerns, but it turns out that Hitler is launching his own PR campaign...

Realisation of the obvious - #1

Ben and Jerry's Ice cream. It's pretty fucking expensive.

Saturday, 12 September 2009

LifeGauge - A Hardcore Effect Experiment

Life, both yours and mine, is nearly always broken down into statistics.

We heard recently for example that the average woman will spend one year and four months, or 12,012.92 hours, of her life crying. Teenage girls clocking up an impressivly emotional two hours and thirteen minutes a week crying like.. erm.. a girl.

Men spend over a year of their lives somewhat more constructively by looking at women they don't know when they shouldn't be.

Women earn the equivalent average of $1 million less than men in the same job over a full working lifetime, and we're told that an average person eats 10 spiders in their life, while sleeping. Yet, none of those examples feel like a tangible fact, you still don't really appreciate the gravity of facts like those, so, since this life assessment lark is all the rage I've begun work on my own little project.

The Hardcore Effect Pile Of Crap.

Over the next twelve months, I will be monitoring [because I'm curious about it] how much time I spend doing stuff I really don't want to. The rules are really quite simple;

-Work is not included, and so time measured can only be taken from what would otherwise be free time.

-I must express clearly that I have no wish to participate in said actvity.

-The moment I begin to participate in such a task in anyway, the clock is started. My free time has been priced at a rather paltry £2 per hour, which is a fucking bargain.

-Money earned over this period must then be spent on crap. The rules for selection allow only items that are random, pointless, broken or hideous.

-Every month, these items must be placed into The Hardcore Effect Pile Of Crap to be photographed, prices must be recorded. Thus progress is monitored.

I started today, after I was dragged to Lancaster to go shopping, which is the fifth worst thing that can happen to a man after serious testicle trauma, catching ebola, being set on fire and catching a bus. Thanks to inexplicably bad traffic the whole debacle took an impressive 5 hours, which earned me ten pounds to spend on utter crap.

I chose to put a tick next to the random party today and decided to find the most out-of-place and pointless item I could. How the winner ended up in a branch of TK Maxx in Lancaster I will never know, but, today ladies and gentlemen I came home with the away shirt of Austrian Premier Division football team, Red Bull Salzburg. It's a bit rubbish and has made me truly happy.

Thursday, 10 September 2009

New Blogger

Hey, once again its time to add to our team, Please welcome Hitler.

Yes, you thought he was dead, but it turns out thats just rumour and hearsay. Adolf will be chipping in with occasional posts from time to time, first up though is a video contribution.

Hitler has fit in with the team surprisingly well, being consumed with rage is what we're all about. However, it seems some announcements about the forthcoming Command and Conquer game have upset him even more than usual. Enjoy.

Friday, 4 September 2009

Meet the team: Adam

Dr. Adam Jagermeister Gruppenfuhrer Brainspiller M.D. 1987-

Originally named Jurgen Von Gayhair, Adam actually came out of a kinder egg his parents bought from a covered market in Slough. Despite this, and the firm belief he holds that he is a 6ft 5" black man in a white guy's body, Adam did go on to make us all proud and gain a variety of doctorates including, amongst others;

Erotic Massage
Advanced piss artistry
Hair bleach: safe use and storage
Insults and casual violence
Bouncer provocation
Rocking out
Jellymould manufacture
and Feminism
for bastards

Also the proud owner of a 2:1 in shut the fuck up, whatever that may be.

A connosieur of incredibly shit cars, Adam's previous car history reads like a What car? guide to looking a right dickhead. The most treasured of these former motors was the white Mk 1 Ford fiesta that could just push 70mph, whilst giving you an electric shock and shuddering as if re-entering the Earth's atmosphere.

One of Adam's biggest secrets is that after a few beers in a evening, he has an uncontrollable fetish for brightly coloured jukeboxes which contain the American Head Charge album "War of Art", however, as yet he has only actually made love to one, which he described as "The shizzle".

Adam's spare time is usually spent indulging in one of his many hobbies which include wanking, bribing nightclub security staff with chips and drinking Jagermeister until blind, then vomiting on a roundabout.

Known to genuinely believe that a group of homeless people is actually known as a "wankfest of tramps", Adam freely admits to a deep held respect for the hobos of Britain which resulted in his founding of the charity "Wank a Tramp", where drunkards are encouraged to give a little love to the more neglected members of society.

Co-wrote with Benji the bestselling book "Trick ass bitches: An illustrated history", which enjoyed a massive sales boost after the pair appeared in a double-action naked centrefold in Practical Pimping Magazine. A fall from grace followed, which saw Adam arrested as a sexual deviant. Originally sentenced to 3 days and a spanking, his sentence increased after an incident during room inspection which saw a large prison guard thrust his face close to Adam's and say in what he probably thought was a menacing voice "Sort your cell out!"

Adam looked back at him for a second then replied in a tender whisper, that was audible half way across the jail "You look like a girl, if we were alone in this cell I'd bend you over the table and fuck you" Then he pursed his lips into a little kiss. If nothing else showing the wit, class and intelligence that landed him a slot writing here.

This incident was later documented on his number three single "I Shit On You", a rap recorded to a imple drum beat and an audio recording of him actually taking a shit. Sheepy was the producer, naturally.

So, armed with this knowledge, please enjoy his ramblings. . Or he'll fucking nut you..or shag you.

Thursday, 3 September 2009

A brief note on future reviews written by us

When I was perhaps 18 or so, My all-consuming passion in life was to lead a lifestyle beyond my means. I have no doubt that I am not alone in this.

I would get paid on a Friday and by Sunday be hopelessly poor again until Friday came round thanks to weekends spent drinking far too much with a group of friends, then getting overpriced taxis home.

Naturally this lifestyle was never particularly cheap, and so I went down the old road of credit cards and unauthorised overdrafts.. thats the kind that come with a £30 charge, presumably to pay the extortionate wages of some bloke who approves or denies such requests.

Of course, borrowing for beer is unsustainable and eventually the time came to pay all this cash back. This, however, was not really of concern to me.. because I was drunk. I decided, in a quite logical way that I owed a lot, but in small sums to various debtors who were all threatening to have some bloke come over and remove my TV, my magnificent collection of utterly disgusting porn and my kidneys. I decided that these threats were empty, it would in effect cost them more than I owed to clear it all legally and pay the burly morons to rock up to my door. I was right.

It was 2 years before I grew up and cleared many of these debts for which I was threatened almost daily with legal action for, and I now live damn near debt free. Why is this?

Well, at the time I got many letters from various account managers and bank types declaring they were "concerned" and any variation thereof, to note I'd done nothing about my debts. Truth is they could have put "angry", "suicidal" or "vomiting with blind rage".. the fact remained, I had their money and I wasn't going to do anything about it.

Until one day, I got a letter from Capital One, saying they were "disappointed to note". Thie changed everything, because you see, they were disappointed. This means THEY had high hopes for ME, THEY thought better of ME and I had let THEM down. Some months later I was clean and clear and I'll never go back.

When most people think of the strongest word in the English language, they instantly think of the word "cunt".. or at least we do. Yet, that word is really more shocking than strong. Disappointed wins hands down, so I don't like using it.

Yet here I am finding myself noticing increasing numbers of people, situations, events and news items that warrant me dropping the "D-bomb". The purpose of this piece is to illustrate that if we ever describe something as "disappointing", avoid it like the plague. Sadly, you'll be seeing it plenty in the coming months.