Saturday, August 29, 2009

The Day the Earth Stood Still - Utter shit

This movie could have been a two hour-long story about people dying, bombs exploding and women getting their tits out. Instead, it turned out to be a boring documentary about how shit an actor Keanu Reeves actually is. The man is a walking plank. Throughout the entire movie, the only expression that graced his face was one that made you wonder whether he was about to squat down and take a shit or not. The main woman character in the story is a single mother / best scientist in the whole wide world. She cries alot. Her son, an annoying little fucker who nearly gets them all killed, will periodically make you raise your hand as if you’re going to give the television screen a backhander.

The story starts off with Reeves walking around the Antartic for no fucking reason. While messing around in the snow, he happens across a large glowing ball of light. He then decides that the best thing to do with a large glowing ball of light is to hit it with an ice pick and stick his hand inside. He dies. Fast forward a few decades to the present day and everybody is getting worked up over some sort of object that is speeding towards earth. The object turns out to be yet another ball of light. The ball lands in the middle of New York City and onlookers are shocked to find out that the object is in fact, some sort of alien spacecraft. More shocking (to me at least) is the fact that it’s carrying a bad actor on board. So out steps an alien version of Keanu. He speaks like a lobotomy patient and can never give a clear answer to any question asked, which is perfectly normal pattern of behaviour for any alien that flew millions of miles to get here... right? Anyway; Keanu is here to make us change our ways. We are killing the planet and we must stop. If we don’t stop; all human life will be exterminated. Blah blah blah, Keanu sees a child cry and decides that humans aren’t that bad afterall. He then leaves. Something I wish he could do in real life. In conclusion: this movie is so bad that they should have charged everyone who didn’t go and see it. Don’t go and see it.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Children screaming, having fun... It's the season...

I'm sitting here trying to channel my hatred for children into one single coherent blog post, and all that I can hear right now is my dog barking out back, begging for me to test out my new shovel on his face. I'm serious. That little mongrel had better shut his face.

This afternoon, I was finally getting around to writing a ransom note to the parents of some girl that I acquired in Portugal a few years ago, when I was interrupted by a group of children a few houses down. They were screaming, having fun and being little brats. So it got me thinking. If I were to inject some ice cream with rat poison and I accidentally threw that ice cream over my wall, and my next-door neighbour's wall, and their next-door neighbour's wall, could I be charged with murder, or could I argue that I am the greatest man alive and therefore well above the law?

These children were literally screaming at the top of their lungs. It's as if Freddy Kruger and Michael Jackson had a love child and that love child suddenly appeared in their garden with a big dirty grin on his face. I could picture them smiling and running around and having fun and screaming and drinking their lemonade and screaming some more and then smiling and having even more fun. Now I know why they invented the belt. Little fuckers.

And where were the parents while these children ran around and screamed as if they were being murdered? I swear to God. Parents who refuse to put manners on their children should be fucking hung up and shot and then beaten with a shovel that has just been used on the skull of a barking dog and then pissed on. The lazy fucking bastards. If you can't handle your children, do what every other sane parent does and put the little fucking demons up for adoption. Don't let them run around with their snotty noses, screaming and shouting. Punch their lights out.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

What people really mean when they say "Ah Sure"

"Ah sure."

I just spent ten minutes complaining to you about something or another; so in order to not sound so negative (which I really am because I often cry to myself when I'm alone), I let off a casual-sounding "Ah sure" in the hope that you overlook everything negative that I've just focused on for the last ten minutes and still think of me as a martyr who doesn't get weighed down by the pains of everyday life.


I just spent ten minutes listening to you bitch about everything from the price of milk to how bad the weather is and I really don't want to give you the go ahead to continue this depressing conversation by feeding into it. So I'm just going to say "Ah sure" and hope for the best.


I just came in your eye and I really don't care.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Have you ever

gotten so lazy that

Friday, July 17, 2009

Peter Harvey is a hero

There, I said it. Not too smart now are you little Johnny? You should have shut the fuck up when I told you to. Little brat. Maybe a good old fashioned coma will teach you a lesson or two about respect.

Every school should have a picture of this guy hanging in the lobby. The man should be cloned and an army of Peter Harvey's deployed (with truncheons) to bring justice to our education system. If you don't agree with me you are wrong. This guy is stronger than Chuck Norris, which admittedly isn't saying that much because Chuck Norris is a gigantic pussy.

Peter Harvey jokes:

Talk about police interference! Mansfield science teacher, Peter Harvey, has been questioned by police for conducting a perfectly legitimate science experiment. He and his class were trying to work out the force and weight ratio required against bone and soft tissue, in order to stem the flow of enough neural energy required to be the cheekiest cunt in the classroom. The result being quite a lot of force was required.

"Hello Class 3C, I'm Peter Harvey your new science teacher, and today you're going to learn some fucking respect."

Peter Harvey... Putting the 'dent' in student.

Hi, I'm Peter Harvey, welcome to 'Are You Harder Than a 14-year-old?'

Thursday, July 16, 2009

I ate Michael Jackson's corpse

I was busy scratching my balls the other day when I suddenly heard a group of children playing and having fun outside my house. At first I just stood in the window swearing and shaking my fist for a bit, but then I realised that my vicious Rottweiler dog "Shitter" hadn't been let out in a few months............ so I laughed to myself and figured that I'd go and shout at him instead. Shitter was always angry because I was always hitting him with stuff. I went out into the garden and picked up Shitter's Rock, as I called it. Shitter's rock was a huge boulder with blood stains all over it. I had managed to get it up to shoulders height when I flung it straight up into the air as hard as I could. Shitter, being the type of dog that has to catch anything that is up in the air, with his face, rocketed out from his shed and dived straight towards it, mouth open and teeth showing.

After cleaning up all the blood with a power hose and dragging Shitter back into his shopping trolley, I made my way back into the house, only to find out that I am the most awesome person in the universe and that everything I say is always right and that anybody who feels as if they need to have an opinion that is different from mine is a Communist. After ringing up an ex girlfriend and threatening to burn down her parents home, I decided that I'd have some food, so I poured salt on my hand and ate it.

The end.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The MTV generation needs to die


Date my mom:
This show basically follows one handsome guy as he takes three separate mothers on three separate dates, and then chooses one of their daughters at the end. Obviously the show is heavily influenced by that one dimensional housewives tale that tells us that all women will eventually grow up to act and look like their mothers. What a crock of shit. Unfortunately this show is flawed beyond repair; as the mothers are never worthy of the label MILF and there are no gang bang scenes. The guy is usually a cliched looking jock with a strong defined jawline, who has a cringe-worthy love for making shallow soundbyte remarks that aim to highlight his sensitive side. The mother's are all wrinkly losers who are obviously going through a mid-life crisis. With that crisis being the menopause. The thing that annoys me the most about the mothers is that they usually spend their entire time on camera trying make us, the unfortunate audience, believe that they're still hip and with it. The daughter is usually a slapper who takes money for hand jobs. This show is so flawed and insulting to watch that if it were ever aired in North Korea, we would no doubt have a nuclear war on our hands. If another lifeform across the galaxy somehow managed to pick this shit up, they would destroy their own planet just to ensure that they'll never have to come into contact with us. I should really point out the fact that shows like these are scripted and acted out by C-Class actors. If you think that this is "reality TV", you need to stop what you're doing right now and kill your parents.

Pimp my ride:
The only thing good about this show is the end result of the modified car and Xzibits childish laugh. The same kind of laugh that a young boy lets out when he's pissing off a cliff onto a group of elderly people. Unfortunately, in order to view these "good bits", you have to sit through twenty minutes of cheesy acting and unfunny jokes that make you want to kick a disabled person in the leg. How much does it cost to hire somebody with a sense of humour for fuck sake? HOW did these writers get a job with MTV in the first place? Do they have a fucking chimp as a HR manager? HOW is MTV so detached from reality? I don't know either! It's absolutely incredible. I'm astonished. I really am.

A bunch of slappers on a bus. Unfunny. Shit. This show should never be aired again. The people responsible for it's existence should be hunted down like the dogs that they are and shot. Enough cliches to make you turn off your television and pick up a book. Crappy actors. Bad lines. Everything is just so bad that I'm beginning to think that there is a saboteur within the ranks of the MTV hierarchy. It's that cheesy.

Yo Mommo:
Holy shit. This show is so bad on so many levels that I won't even insult your intelligence by explaining why. If you've never seen this show; don't. If you have seen this show and think that it's funny, I don't want you on my site. Or the Internet.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

English people are shit

I was on holidays not so long ago when I found out that England is actually a real country. I rang home, shouting and hollering down the phone, pausing only to spit on the ground in disgust; while trying to tell anyone and everyone who would answer my phone calls that these lager-filled ogres who collect ASBOs as if they were Pokemon cards actually exist.

For many years I had thought that this rock off the east coast of Ireland was just a fictional land mass, dreamt up by Irish parents in order to scare their children into acquiring class. And an education. And manners. But to my dismay, I was wrong.

In one restaurant, I had to listen to one English group ranting and raving at an extremely polite Asian waiter, who in my opinion, was doing a pretty swell job, by virtue of the fact that he hadn't brandish a sawn-off shotgun yet and blown the miserable wretches and all their bitching and moaning to hell.

Mid-order, this group of loud-mouthed louts decided that the most logical thing to do would be to change their minds. This resulted in confusion. A sense of confusion that was of course blamed on the Asian waiter, who by the way, spoke far better English than any of them. I sat there with my fork gripped firmly in my hand, wondering how long it would take a person to gouge somebody's eyeball out and shove it back down their neck; only to come to the conslusion that it would take somewhere inbetween three to ten seconds, depending on how sharp the fork was and how many times the person in question had come into contact with English people.

Long story short because I'm tired; the majority of English people are loud mouthed scumbags who need to realise that nobody really cares about their opinion and that they should fuck right off. And die. In a fire. That is fueled by petrol.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Two video games that never made it onto the shelves due to the fact that the human race is one big steaming pile of shit

Grand Theft Auto wasn't originally meant to be called Grand Theft Auto. No. When I first came up with the concept for the game (a fact that I can't actually back up with anything other than my fist), I had a far more thought-provoking title in place. It was called Rape Rape Rape. But Rockstar, the thin-skinned team behind the production of the infamous games series, decided that my title was just a little bit too high brow for some members of the general public. That and the fact that a game where the main character spends his days trying to rape women would surely cause a few ripples here and there.

Call of Duty: Columbine was another game that I had tried to get onto our shelves. The idea behind the game was to put the user in the seat of the shooters who had carried out the Columbine Highschool Massacres, as I felt that the duo had gotten a bum rap for doing something that was purely natural to all teenagers with a penchant for automatic weapons and general mass murder. But no siree; the rest of the world wasn't having it. And so once again, my creative genius was drowned in a sea of faux morals.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Stand clear. Luggage doors operating.

I hate traveling by Bus Eireann. Not just because of how delightfully charming the bus drivers are, but because every time I do travel on the shit tanks that they call buses, it feels as if I'm on a daily outing for old age pensioners. They clog up the queues, coughing and chatting and politely nudging you out of the way, as you stand there wondering if a prison sentence is a fair trade for the things you'd like to do. Then, to make matters worse, they sit beside you. Not because there aren't any other seats, but because they know that invading your personal space will most definitely get your back up. It's a conspiracy that sprung up in bingo halls all across the country in the late 80s. Annoy the younger generation as much as possible and they'll be less likely to travel by bus; in turn making Bus Eireann a mass moving old folks home. It's a takeover. An invasion. And most frightening thing is; it's already happened.

Even worse is when they sit on the opposite side of the bus and stare at you, with their hands resting politely in their laps. Old women are the worst for this. They smile at you, but not in a nice way. No. It's an evil smile. They know what their mission is. It's you, and more importantly, your annoyance.

Is there any wonder why Bus Eireann drivers are so pissed off all of the time? They practically spend their days transporting the entire elderly population of Ireland all around the country. And while I don't have the sources to back my claims up (Wikipedia didn't have an article on this), I'm willing to bet that more bus drivers kill themselves every year than any other kind of profession.

Moving on from old people: Why the fuck do Bus Eireann feel the need to have the heating on during the summer? I know that Ireland isn't exactly Barbados or anything, but that still doesn't mean that we should be cooked alive. Last Summer, at the end of May, I had to stomach a one and a half hour bus drive where the heating was on at full blast and the sun was glaring in through the window, turning the bus into a factory for human sweat. To make matters worse, somebody in the back of the bus decided that it would be a pretty good idea to vomit everywhere. I felt as if I was on my way to Auschwitz.

In conclusion: Old people are shit and so is Bus Eireann.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Help me catch a paedophile

Ok. Well. Maybe not catch him (assuming that he is a he, and not a she). But surely somebody somewhere has an idea on how to ruin this person's life? With extra emphasis on the ruining? We can get to the justice part later etc.. yadda yadda yadda.. bleeding heart liberals... etc etc

Let us just focus on the dismantlement of another person's life.

Here are the user details of somebody who landed on my website, searching for the keywords: "child sucks cock"

Judging by the fact that this person is using Internet Explorer 7, I'd have to assume that they're not so "up with things" when it comes to computers, as anyone who is anyone (i.e. me) will tell you that Firefox (maybe even Opera for some pasty-faced rebels) is the favourite amongst ardent interbutt users. Maybe they didn't think that Googling around for child porn would put them at risk?

Also, the fact that they're from New Jersey makes me pretty sure that they're a fully fledged paedophile. Sources for such a fact? Me.

So... any ideas?

Update: All of his details have been forwarded to the Plainfield Police Department in New Jersey, who by the way, seemed pretty happy to have the information handed to them.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Questionable search results

This morning, I decided to take a look at what people were actually searching for when they found my website on search engines such as Google and Yahoo. Please note that I use the word "website" instead of "blog" because the word blog makes me die inside.

1: i hate children
It looks as if I'm not the only one who despises those little fuckers. God give strength to the pour souls who were driven so demented by their evil offspring, that they resorted to crying into their computer screens and frantically bashing away at their keyboards; all the while knowing that the only friend who will ever listen to them is Google.

2: cybering on omegle
Was somebody searching for a handbook on how to have cyber sex on Omegle? Is there a market for this?

3: you maddy mccann
What? Is somebody trying to communicate with Maddy via Google?


Why thank you. I do try to!

5: somebody somewhere is working harder than you
You've come to the wrong place.

6: Maddy McCann
It's hard to believe that it's been nearly three years now. Best dish washer ever.

7: sexy fat men

8: insufferable arsehole
You found me.

9: child sucks cock (no joke)
Even amongst the respected paedophile community, I'm a rising star! Seriously. It never fails to amaze me how sick people actually are. Well. Yes it does. Actually.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

How Grand Theft Auto helped me clean the streets of hookers

  • Drive around in a police car looking for black people to beat up. Remember; all black people do drugs and are therefore criminals. Extra points for finding Rodney.
  • Pick up a hooker, drive towards a cliff and then jump out just before the car goes flying over the edge. Repeat this process until the streets are clean.
  • Recreate the Ipswich incident by going curb crawling for prostitutes to murder. Use a knife; it's funnier.
  • Never EVER let a civilian escape. I remember chasing one bitch nearly five blocks on foot. I beat her to death with a baseball bat and reversed over her in a taxi... just to be sure.
  • The guys you see preaching on the street every now and again? Beat them until they're writhing in agony on the floor. Then wait for the ambulance to arrive, kill the driver, steal the ambulance and finish the job. By job I mean preacher and by finish I mean run over. Multiple times.
  • Punch an elderly woman in the face, wait for some random male pedestrian to White Knight himself into the equation and then take out a shotgun. If only the graphics in the game could portray the look on his face now.
  • Kick a taxi and call the cops. What will happen is that the taxi driver will get out and try to fight you, the cops will show up shortly afterwards, see him hit you and proceed to arrest him. Once they put him in the back of the cop car, steal the cop car and bring him for a ride around town. Think of every taxi driver who's ever been a cunt to you. You'll know what to do.
  • Steal a fire engine, go on a city-wide rampage and crash into every single car on the road. Seriously, you haven't seen a car fly until it's been hit by a speeding fire truck.
  • Get a rocket launcher, aim just below your feet and let it rip. Sure you'll be killed by the resulting blast, but the fun part about all of this is watching how far your body will fly.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Adverts for shaving products - Creativity just suffered a stroke and died.

If there’s one type of television advert that I hate the most, it has to be the one trying to peddle some sort of shaving product. You know the ones where a guy with a chiseled jaw gently caresses the side of his face, while he smiles at himself in such a fit of self-love that you half expect him to start licking the mirror and rubbing shaving foam on his nipples. Fuck off. If somebody caught me smiling at myself in the mirror, they’d probably think that I was doped up on Meth. Who the fuck molests their face for five minutes after they shave? Nobody. Except rapists.

Why do these guys always have to be topless? Are men somehow incapable of not getting foam on their clothes? Can’t a guy shave with a T-Shirt on? Sometimes it’s too cold to be standing in front of a mirror with no top on. And what’s with the towel? Did he really take off his pants just to shave? Or is the advert trying to drive home the point that you shouldn’t part with your stubble without taking a shower first! It’s actually unbelievable how crap and brainless these adverts can be. Lord only knows what goes through the minds of the people who get paid to come up with this shit, but if I was forced to take a guess, I’d have to say nothing.

Oh, and let’s not forgot the randomly placed woman either. Who the fuck is she and why is she annoying me while I shave? This is “me time”, so get the fuck out. I don’t care how good looking you think you are; if you bother me while I’m shaving I’m going to deck you one. You wouldn’t like it if I burst into the bathroom and started hugging you while you were shaving your legs, so why the double standards? Sure, some may argue that this is just a psychological ploy to get men associating such and such a product, with an attraction from members of the opposite sex... but then again, I could refute that point by arguing that somebody who is stupid enough to fall for this kind of bullshit shouldn’t be allowed to have a razor blade in their possession.

What I can't understand is how these companies continue to pump out shitty adverts such as this one, without having at least one person tell them that they're writing department is about as creative as a child molester in a playground.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Sling it over your shoulder...

Is there anything more manly than a guy with a jacket slung over his shoulder?

Just look at him. He's about five minutes away from cracking open a bottle of Stella Artois and punching somebody in the face. Look at that smile of his. That smile is confirmation that he knows he's much more manlier than you. You could train seven days a week; but the sad fact is that you'll only be a shell of a man in comparison to him and his shadow beard. Look at how he rests his free hand in his pocket, as if to insinuate that he could beat you five ways from Sunday with no arms and still have the energy to go shopping for a new jumper afterwards. With a masculine jaw like that, it wouldn't surprise me if he spends his spare time doing press ups with his chin. He also probably chews tobacco, shaves with a screwdriver and bullies Chuck Norris. If this guy could find enough time out of his busy schedule of walking around with a jacket over his shoulder, he'd probably put an end to every conflict in the Middle East and invade Russia. During the Winter.

No seriously. Why is it that men who carry their jackets always look like fucktards? It's just one of those things in life that makes me grit my teeth and nearly choke in anger. I see a guy with a forced scowl on his face and a jacket over his shoulder and all I want to do is kick him square in the jaw. And it's not just the jacket either... no. It's also that tough guy walk that they try to pull off. That Jack The Lad stroll where the legs make long pronounced steps and the shoulders wobble gently from side to side. Oh the rage. I feel it.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The country is fucked - complaining will fix it!

Ok, so our country is fucked, the government are a shower of cunts and to make matters worse, Ireland has turned into a nation of complaining fuckheads. If you think that any of the other political parties are good enough to do a better job, well then you're clearly even more retarded than I had first thought. Enda Kenny? Fuck off. Eamon Gilmore? Go away and stop talking to me.

No. Extreme measures are needed to put this place back into shape. With those extreme measures being me, which admittedly means that we only have to take one extreme measure and not a whole host of them. Here are my proposals.

  • Every single politician in Ireland will be rounded up, shot with their own shit and then deported.
  • Anybody who has ever thought about becoming a politician will be rounded up, shot with their own shit and then deported.
  • Old people? Rounded up, shot with their own shit and then deported.
  • Criminals? Forced to kill each other in a mass battle royal that will be aired live on RTE. The last survivor will then be rounded up, shot with his own shit and deported.
  • Everyone will be forced to smile. Anyone caught frowning or engaging in a conversation about the recession will be forced to eat their own shit, vomit it back up into the barrel of a gun and then wait to be shot with it again! What comes next should be obvious by now.
  • The Corrs? You betcha!
  • Gok Wan will be smuggled into the country, shot with his own shit and then deported.
  • Ronan Keating? As good as gone.
  • Matt Cooper? Bye!
  • Gerry Ryan? I will personally do it myself.
  • Prime Time will be banned.
  • The state will start to sell it's own brand of cigarettes. Smoking will be made mandatory. Ash Ireland destroyed.
  • Any fucktard wearing a Concern vest will no longer be protected under law.
  • Children will no longer be allowed to have any fun.
  • Fair City will be replaced by an hour long picture slide show of me.
  • Gay Bryne will be politely told to shut his cunt.
  • A tax on stupidity will be introduced.
  • Corporal punishment in schools and in the home and on the streets will be revived and put back into legislation.
  • Homeless people will be eaten.
  • Rapists, paedophiles etc; all sent into space to become the first people to land on the sun.
  • If problems arise, Ryan Tubridy will be sent to rescue them.
  • If Tubridy runs into problems, Pat Kenny will be sent to rescue him.
  • This process will then repeat itself until everybody on Irish television is gone.
  • Fanny packs and flip flops banned. Period.
  • Liverpool fans will no longer be referred to as real people.
  • Anybody who holds up queues or walks slowly in front of others will be sold to Somali pirates.
  • Skangers and chavs alike will be forced to eat soap.
  • Boy racers will all be rounded up into concentration camps and gassed. No exceptions.
  • Pissy male bus drivers who bitch all day will be told to stop menstruating in work.
I'm far too busy to finish this but if you reckon that you have something to add to this, drop a comment.

Monday, April 27, 2009

RTE apologise for sketch about boy with cancer.

Are we paying RTE to be a shower of pussies?

Oh no, look, we insulted somebody, we had better apologise right away. Yes siree. Just tell us what you're offended about and we'll bend over backwards and let you shove one up our ass. You can even slap a bum cheek or two if that's what you're into. Actually no, don't use any vaseline. Just stick it in. Go on.

What a pack of fucking wimps. And the people who took the time to complain about something that obviously wasn't supposed to insult anyone in the first place? They need to be deported. Shot or deported. Shot.

I hate children - and you.

Here are a few submissions from children that I've gotten over the past week or two. I usually delete emails from children and burn their letters. But this time I figured that I'd show the world the kind of mindless shit I have to put up with.

Hi Hellbrain. My mummy said that you’re a liar and that Santa Clause does exist and that you’re just mean and horrible.

Sandy, Age 8

No offense Sandy, but your mother has been filling your ears full of shit. How do you find it inside yourself to go along with this crap?! Are you really stupid enough to believe that a fat guy named Santa makes presents and then just hands them out for free? If so, I hope that you’re not planning on going to college or anything... or school for that matter. The fact is; nobody is kind enough to hand out stuff for free. When I was young nobody ever gave me anything. I was told to go play by the reservoir. And I did. I didn’t have shitty make-believe friends that squeezed down my fireplace. I had a dead rabbit called George and a sock full of rocks that I hit other kids with who were happier than me. Think about it Sandy! Just think about it! Reindeers can’t fly, and if they could you’d probably have PETA and their army of unwashed hippy vegetarian teenagers bitching about animal abuse, picketing the North Pole and generally ruining everybody else’s fun. And what about the elves Sandy? Who would pay them? If Santa existed, he wouldn’t exactly be the wealthiest man alive now would he? The idiot hands out stuff for free for crying out loud! How on earth could he be? So who pays the elves for their year-long labour Sandy? Nobody? Do you agree with slavery Sandy? Do you believe that small people should be made to work all year long for nothing? What a mean little girl you’ve turned out to be.

Mr Hellbrain, here is a poem that I wrote you:I seen a bluebottle, It flew in my house, It was black and blue, Smaller than a mouse.

George, Age 6

If you ever send me shit like this again I’m going to find you and ship you off to India to make sweaters. What the fuck are you doing wasting your time writing poems about fucking Bluebottles? All Bluebottles do all day is eat shit and lay eggs that eventually become maggots. If I was your father and I had found you writing this crap I would have locked you in the cellar.

I hate bloggers - and you.

A blogger is somebody who believes that his or her opinion actually matters. What a bunch of cocks.

"Oh look at me, I'm commenting on current affairs. I'm talking about politics. I'm outraged at the latest scandal to grace the front of our newspapers. This will get me brownie points with my readers. Because they're outraged too. I'm shoving as much penis into my mouth as possible. Look. It's all going in. All that penis. In one mouth. Om nom nom nom nom. I could go for seconds. So I will. Om nom nom nom nom. More penis. Right in my mouth."

I repeat; what a bunch of cocks. I can't wait for the day when the Irish government finally passes a law that makes blogging illegal; punishable by a public lashing. At least then we won't have to put up with their forced bitching.

Yea yea, I know. I can hear your incessant moaning already. "But Hellbrain, you're a blogger too! OLOLOL" No, no I'm not. In actuality, I'm a bit like Blade. There's enough blogger in me to make me immune to their bullshit, and enough humanity in me to make me not want to lick balls all day.

My interview with Bock and Medbh (Part 2)

Following on from part one.

Bock: You actually went through the bother of editing my websites header... all for some stupid joke about me molesting children?
Hellbrain: Yes.
Medbh: Look Hellbrain; how about just letting me go? I won't say a thing to anyone! Do whatever you want to Bock! I don't care. I just want to go home.
Medbh: Bock, only a few minutes ago you were imploring him to beat me.
Bock: Oh... a feminist AND A LIAR are we?
Medbh: You stupid sexist bastard; if I remember correctly, your exact words were, and I quote: "You fucking tell her. Slap that bitch."
Hellbrain: Ok, I've had enough. The both of you need to shut the fuck up right now.
*Brandishes a gun*
*Ding dong - the door bell rings*
Hellbrain: Hm. Excuse me for a second while I just have a quick check to see who that is.
*Runs upstairs and opens the front door*
Hellbrain: Ah, Twenty. Twenty Major, me auld pal. And to what do I owe the pleasure?
Twenty: Hi Hellbrain, how's it goin' bud? I just popped around to ask if there was any chance I could have my angle grinder back?
Hellbrain: Oh, your angle grinder.... so you're not here to have a chat then? No?
Twenty: Well, I'm a little busy you see. What with work and the blog and all. You understand, right?
Hellbrain: Of course Twenty, I'm a busy man myself.
Twenty: So, are you finished with the angle grinder?
Hellbrain: Well, I'll probably need it for another day or so. You see, I'm working on something important in the basement.
*The sounds of Bock and Medbh screaming for help in the basement start to shake the house. Twenty looks startled.*
Twenty: Oh right. No problem. I'll be going so.
Hellbrain: Oh, you don't have to Twenty. You really don't have to.
Twenty: Oh no no no, I'm a busy man Hellbrain. I had better be on my way.
Hellbrain: I don't think you understood me Twenty. Me and my friend here *waves gun*, would prefer it if you stayed.
Twenty: Shite.
*Basement door swings open. Medbh and Bock are surprised to see Twenty walking down the stairs.*
*Hellbrain appears behind Twenty, holding a 9mm gun to his back.*
Bock: Oh bollocks. We're all going to die.
*Medbh starts to cry - because she's a woman and they always cry first.*
Twenty: How the fuck did I end up in this mess?
Medbh: I can't believe this. I really can't believe th-- *pauses to wipe away tears* WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT FROM US YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!
*Starts to sob uncontrollably*

To be continued - DUN DUN... DUN!

Friday, April 24, 2009

How to respond to women

Woman Statement #1: Why can't you be more like that?
Answer: Because I'd probably have to quit my current job and become an actor who stars in shitty unrealistic Rom-Com movies where the main male character plays the part of a walking vagina.

Woman Statement #2: We need to talk.
Answer: Correction. You need to talk. I need to finish playing video games where I get to sell drugs and mow down pedestrians in a fire engine.

Woman Statement #3: You're such a typical man.
Answer: Hence the penis.

Woman Statement #4: You never listen.
Answer: I'll listen as soon as you stop talking.

Woman Statement #5: I'm not upset.
Answer: I didn't ask you if you were.

Woman Statement #6: FINE!
Answer: Glad you see things my way.

Woman Statement #7: Does my bum look big in this?
Answer: Stop fishing for compliments.

Woman Statement #8: You can't have your cake and eat it!
Answer: Then what's the point of having cake in the first place?!

Woman Statement #9: And who is she?
Answer: My next girlfriend if you don't shut up.

Woman Statement #10: You got it in my eye you bastard!
Answer: Learn to swallow.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

My interview with Bock and Medbh

Hellbrain: Hey guys, thanks for coming on the show.
Bock: We're not on a show Hellbrain. We're in your basement.
Hellbrain: Ah well, thanks for coming anyway.
Medbh: We. Didn't. Come. Anywhere. You fucking kidnapped us.
Hellbrain: Ah cmon now Medbh me auld mucker; you've been known to make unfounded accusations in the past, so why don't you just quit your whining? Alright?!
Bock: Damn straight! You tell her! YOU FUCKING TELL HER! SLAP THAT BI--
Bock: Yea... well... he was right about the unfounded accusations part. With you calling me sexist and all.
Medbh: ....
Bock: Just saying.
Hellbrain: Yea, about that Bock; why do you actually care?
Bock: What do you mean?
Hellbrain: You do say in your tagline that you've been offending everyone since 2006, so why do you care about somebody calling you sexist?
Bock: Look Hellbrain, I offend people in a subtle kind of way.
Hellbrain: So subtle that they don't even know that they're being offended?
Bock: You gottit!
Hellbrain: Interesting.
Medbh: He hates wome--
Hellbrain: Did I say that you could speak?
Medbh: How dare you! I have every right to express my--
Hellbrain: No! No you don't! This is my bas-- my show and you'll speak only when I tell you to speak! Isn't that right Bock?
Hellbrain: Oooh... someone's a little angry! Medbh, can I ask you a question?
Medbh: What.
Hellbrain: If you're so equal... then why are you a woman?
Medbh: You fucker. You misogynistic fucker. You will go to prison for this. I'll see to--
Hellbrain: Yea yea yea, I'm not interested in listening to you menstruate.
Bock: Hahahaha!
Hellbrain: Did I tell you that you could laugh Bock?
Bock: No but I found it pretty fun--
*slaps Bock*
Hellbrain: I'll tell you when to laugh you censoring bastard.
Bock: What?! I never--
Hellbrain: You blocked me from writing on your blog! Didn't you?
Bock: You were being a troll!
Hellbrain: Oh it's so easy to throw around such a label isn't it Bock!
Bock: You said that old people should be deported.
Bock: No you didn't!
Hellbrain: I did, I sent you an email the next day telling you that I was sorry for being such a nuisance!
Bock: No, no you didn't! You sent me an email with the word "fucker" copied and pasted into it a hundred times!
Hellbrain: Oh. My bad. I was supposed to send that one to my mother.
Bock: ...
Medbh: ...
Hellbrain: Anyway Bock, what do you have to say about allegations that you regularly have sex with minors?
Bock: WHAT? I've never even heard of such allegations!?
Hellbrain: So you're saying that you don't engage in intercourse with young boys?
Hellbrain: Oh, I guess my redesign of your sites banner is out of the question then?

Read part two >>

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Beat your kids so I won't have to.

Bock sucks cock.

And lots of it.

With the tagline "offending everyone since 2006", you'd think he'd be a little bit more open to criticism.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Maddy McCann and our economy - name two things that have been raped.

It's true. No more jobs are left. As these refusals show.

Dear Mr Hellbrain,
Thank you for showing an interest in our company. Unfortunately however, we do not have any available positions for somebody who is ‘highly qualified in the field of woman beating’. Here at Cosmo, we strive to create and maintain a diverse multicultural environment that provides opportunities to all of our employees, regardless of their race, gender or sexual orientation. It is our belief that although you clearly have the skills for the job, your attitude towards women, children and those of other races is so unbelievably sickening and out of touch with the modern world that our HR manager actually rang home to see if her kids were ok after reading your job application. With all of that said, we would like to wish you the best in your future endeavours and ask that you do not attempt to contact us again.

Sandra Casey

Dear Mr Hellbrain,
We regret to inform you that the vacancy in our company is not open to people who consider “rape” as an “extreme sport”. Maybe you shouldn’t have included that in your hobbies section? We would also like to inform you that we have forwarded your CV and the accompanying opening letter about the sex worker in Amsterdam to the local Gardai.

John Doyle

Dear Mr Hellbrain,
Although I did find your article interesting (in the sense that I didn’t sleep last night), I just don’t feel as if the world is ready to hear why Josef Fritzl should be on the front cover of Time magazine.

Martin Summers

Dear Mr Hellbrain,
We do not consider “kidnapping Madeline McCann” as an accomplishment that is worthy of being noted on a professional resume. Regardless of whether you were joking or not; we regret to inform you that we have no place for the likes of you in our company.

Jane Dwyer

Dear Mr Hellbrain,
I’m very sorry Mr Hellbrain, but I’m pretty sure that our school board will not allow the designation of a Corporal Administrator “of Pain!!11!!1”, as you so colourfully put it; so there was really no need for you to waste your time by sending me the blueprints of a mass concentration camp for children. Also, as somebody who has a keen interest in architecture, I would just like to say that a “wall built of feminists” would be structurally unsound.

Frank O Shea

Monday, April 20, 2009


So, I was tagged by Maxi Cane, who figured that it would be in the best interest of my mental health for me to take a break away from the War Against Feminism (WAF - Sign up).

Anyway, here are the rules:

1) Put the link of the person who tagged you on your blog.
2) Write the rules.
3) Mention 6 things or habits of no real importance about you.
4) Tag 6 persons adding their links directly.
5) Alert the persons that you tagged them.

  • I kick my small dog when I get up every morning and then smile to myself later on when other's are commenting on how vicious he's after getting.
  • A small boy once jumped into my garden to retrieve a football. So I took him inside and ate him.
  • When I'm using a public restroom, I usually make it my business to piss all over the toilet seat. I'm also the guy who writes other people's phone numbers on cubicle walls and references them according to generic phrases such as "cock fun" and "ring her she swallows".
  • I'm an Atheist. Not because I have any strong anti-religious views, but because I'm simply too egotistical to worship anything other than myself.
  • I can't count.

Satan is a pussy. Worship me instead.

Don’t you just hate those pretentious angst-riddled teenagers who say that they worship Satan in the hope that others will view them as dark and grim? It’s just a pity for them that the dark being they supposedly worship is a just few career moves away from having his own fashion show. Read on. I’ll tell you why.

Have you ever seen those Biblical paintings of Lucifer as an angel? You know, the ones that show him before he grew a tail and started walking around on hooves? They leave one in little doubt as to who was the first ever meterosexual. Clean shaven, wavy long hair and a bare chest that looks as if it’s been waxed. Meet the Lord of Darkness; with the word darkness obviously acting as a metaphor for male ass.

Back in the beginning when God told Lucifer to pack his shit up and get the fuck out of his house, what did Lucifer do? Did he turn around and tell God to go and fuck himself? No. Did he start a rising? No. Instead, he went off somewhere deep underground to sulk like a big raging Emo. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he also started to dress up like a furry. And what does the common furry do you might ask? He wears animal suits and let’s other men give it to him from behind. Way to go Satan! Take one for the team!

When the Lord of Darkness finally decides to stop being a big girls blouse down in hell, he pops up to possess a few people. But who does he choose? The most useless age groups he can find: Elderly people and children. Now don’t get me wrong or anything. I’m all for old people and children getting harmed; I just don’t see them as beneficial targets for somebody who wants to take over another person’s body. You could at least aim for the odd martial arts expert or war-ravaged commando. At least they might be of some use, unlike the others, who spend their time vomiting in bed, regardless of whether they’re actually possessed or not.

Just this morning, I interviewed one of the world’s leading experts in Theology, Dr Ian Pittsberg, and proceeded to ask him if there was any substance behind my theory.

Me: Hi Ian, thanks for giving me the time of day to talk to you.
Dr Pittsberg: Oh no problem at all Mr Hellbrain. Quite frankly, I’m in debt to you after the wonderful job that you did with my kids. Now they come straight home after school to do all of their homework. Although I have noticed that John does spend a lot of time looking at the poker through the corner of his eye. I must ask, what’s your secret?
Me: I use the very latest in child psychology. That’s all that I can say.
Dr Pittsberg: Oh.... right.
Me: Anyway Ian, I was just wondering. Was Satan gay?
Dr Pittsberg: Yes.

So there you have it folks. Even the experts agree with me.

Another thing that reinforces my theory is that new meg of his. You know, the curly one that makes him look as if he’s from San Francisco? Now all he needs is a Hawaiian shirt and a new exotic nickname such as Fernando. I can see him now, dancing away to Cuban music and sipping martinis. What a pussy. No wonder he’s in my closet folding clothes with Chuck Norris.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

A few things that annoy me

People who chew with their mouth open need to be kicked in the spine. End of story. There is nothing more annoying than having to listen to some somebody smacking and crunching and gnawing on their food. The sound of their saliva mixing with their food; those short deep breaths that come out in between swallowing. It all makes me want to shoot up a post office. The sound of somebody biting into an apple alone sends me into such a rage that you could actually fry a full Irish breakfast on my forehead. If somebody starts eating a packet of crisps while I'm trying to watch television, I usually tighten my fist, grit my teeth and picture myself doing the fucking Riverdance on their face.

You know that "Not Responding" message that you see every now and again whenever your computer freezes? Yea well it's those two words that have led to Bill Gates being put on my list of people who need to be tarred and feathered in public. It's pretty safe to say that I have no patience for anything, let alone a slow computer (tell me to buy a Mac and I'll slit your throat) that doesn't work as quickly as it should. The last time this message reared it's ugly head, I picked up my computer and fucked it out onto a motorway, causing a fifty-car pile up that killed thirteen people. Originally only ten people had died, but a few more were added to the toll when I found out that three Liverpool supporters were among the wounded.

Why do so many people love horses? All a horse ever does is take huge shits and stare at people. What fucking good is that? They also require a lot of care, which basically means that they're a species of pussies. There's also something about the length of a horse's face that makes me want to punch it. I don't know why. It's just that feeling I get.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

My "Sent Folder"

Have you ever taken the time to browse through your sent folder? It’s a great way take a quick look back on the past, as certain emails will no doubtfully trigger a few memories. Both welcome and unwelcome. Either way; they always help put a few things in the present back into perspective. Anyway, I thought that I’d share a few gems that I found in my sent folder.

Dear Mr Gok Wan,

I am writing to you to apologise for my behaviour last week. Please take my word for it when I say that it was all just one big misunderstanding. You see, I had recently just bought a second hand book on Thai massages, and in one of chapters, they explain how relaxing it can be to have a masseuse gently caress the side of your face with their fist. The cock-up arose however, out of the fact that the word gently had its first letter worn away, leaving behind the pseudo-word “ently.” Of course, seeing as the words fist and face were being used in the exact same sentence, I automatically assumed that the original word was meant to be “violently.” I sincerely apologise for breaking your glasses, your nose, your cheekbone, your spine and for biting your minders ear when he saw it fit to drag me away. Please understand that I was only trying to help you relax. Anyway, I hope that you get out of hospital soon. I heard that they began to see signs of life yesterday. That’s good. Hope you get well soon.

PS: Just wondering if you could possibly drop the charges?

Your pal,

Dear Mr Dog Whisperer,

Firstly, allow me to tell how much I enjoy watching your show. The first episode, where you tried to break out completely blew me away and left me on the edge of my seat.
Anyway, I am writing to you to ask you to help put an end to a dispute that has arisen between me and a friend. He has told me that I was not watching your show and that I was in fact watching some fictional show called Prison Break; and that you would never condone animal cruelty. He has also threatened to ring the relevant law authorities if I continue to try and stab my dog with makeshift knives made out of tooth brushes. He reckons that my misunderstanding arose out of the fact that he had recorded the show over one of your videos. I told him to shut his mouth. Please get back to me as soon as possible.

A big fan,

Omegle - tonnes of fun

Last night, I stumbled upon a website called Omegle.
Basically, it allows two random strangers to chat with one another.

Connecting to server...
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi
You: hi
Stranger: u ok
You: asl
Stranger: 30 m liverpool
You: ooooh sexy
Stranger: u
You: 54 m Pakistan
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: huohuo~
You: hi
Stranger: i come here the first time ~
You: yea im new to the internet too
You: is this google
You: can i search from here
You: how can i send an email
Stranger: what `s meaning?
You: am i on the internet
Stranger: send an email?
You: is this facebook
Stranger: yes ~
Stranger: no ~
You: im new to this
Stranger: me too
You: this is my first time on a computer
You: how do i send an email
You: is this google
You: how do i search
You: can i book one way tickets from here
Stranger: no ~you can`t
You: i thought this was the internet
Stranger: it juat a page you can talk with the stranger
You: do i give you my credit card details?
Stranger: no ~haha
You: how do i book for tickets then
You: the internet is a lot harder than i thought
You: is this facebook
Stranger: no ~
You: then what is this
You: i thought i was on the internet
You: or is it called the world wide web
Stranger: how old are you ?why you the first tough the internet?
Stranger: this is the page~
You: Oh
You: So I can only book train tickets here?
Stranger: how did you come here?
You: Or am I thinking of a different Omegle
You: I found a computer open
You: And this was on
You: I asked the women in the cafe to help me but she ignored me
Stranger: no ~~~~~it just a page that you can chat~
You: So now here I am trying to book online tickets with you
You: Does your airline cover accommodation?
Stranger: ~but I cannot help you~
You: Why I have all my personal details with me and I have a credit card
Stranger: yes ~but i am in china~
You: Why can I not book a ticket
You: Do China's airlines offer good prices?
Stranger: i don`t know~if it offer ,how can u book it?
You: i thought this was the internet
You: why arent you taking my booking
Stranger: yes it is
You: i will ring your manager
Stranger: i don`t want to talk to you again~88
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hola!
You: ola
Stranger: como estas?
You: What
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hellier
You: Greetings dear sir or madam.
Stranger: Sir it is =]
You: I have a business proposition for you.
Stranger: Oh yes?
You: My father, a Kenyan prince, was killed not so long ago. Before he died, he left over 5 million dollars and three wives in a bank account.
You: The three wives have no doubtfully starved to death but there's reason to believe that the money is still ok.
Connection imploded.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: oi!
You: oi!
You: asl?
Stranger: 20/m/usa
Stranger: u ?
You: 57 M Bangladesh
You: Wanna cyber?
Stranger: dayum get the fuck off you faggot
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Connecting to server...
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi
Stranger: where are you from
You: hi
You: where are you from
Stranger: hi
Stranger: where are you from
Stranger: ?
You: hi
You: where are you from
You: ?
Stranger: hi
Stranger: where are you from
Stranger: ?
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi any girl who want to talk?
You: asl
Stranger: 24/m/ india
Stranger: u?
You: 14/f/usa
Stranger: want to talk about sex?
Stranger: ?
You: You sick fuck.
You have disconnected.

Connecting to server...
Looking for someone you can chat with. Hang on.
You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
Stranger: hi
You: Hello, I have come here today to talk to you about Allah.
Stranger: thats okay
Stranger: what else do u wanna talk about
You: Allah.
Stranger: u can get ALLAH deese nuts!
Your conversational partner has disconnected.

I ask anyone reading this to try it out for themselves and post the resulting chat log here. The sicker/funnier/whatever the better.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Feminists of the world; I apologise

I would like to take this time to reflect on my previous blog post. Truth be told; I went a little over the top. I was being completely immature and probably even a little bit sexist. What with all the references to women making sandwiches and all. And I'm truly sorry. Seriously. I am. Women shouldn't be subjected to this kind of crap. And women certainly shouldn't have their faces covered by boxes of cosmetic products. So, as a good will gesture from me to women all over the world, I have decided to try and fix this vile marketing campaign with my brilliant Photoshop skills.

Although crudely done; I think my point has been made pretty clear. Showing a woman's neck with a piece of metallic-looking cloth wrapped around it (chains anyone?) obviously symbolises the systems goal to try and strangle all femininity. It also represents the enslavement of women. I even bet that those misogynist cunts had a man holding the other end of that cloth, just for kicks. So, I've gone right ahead and taken matters into my own hands. I've used THEIR box against them and covered it up. Hahaha, take that you chauvinistic pigs! You didn't think that you'd have your own weapon of sexism used against you did you? Haha, swivel on that one.

As you might have noticed, I've also taken the time to enlarge her breasts. You see, I reckon that her breasts looked a little bit too small in the original picture. This was probably because the man decided to shrink them. Why? To symbolise conformity of course. Yea! US MEN DON'T HAVE TITS SO WHAT MAKES YOU UPPITY ENOUGH TO THINK THAT YOU CAN! Well ha! Jokes on you now Mr Male Pig! Mr Poopy Headed Sexist Face! I've done the opposite and now her breasts are larger than ever! That'll teach em to stop treating women like objects.

Thursday, April 16, 2009


I had the utmost pleasure of happening across a feminist's blog yesterday while searching for angry middle aged women on the Internet. I took a quick look around and realized that the site wasn't really about feminism or the moral crusade for sexual equality; but instead, it was about one woman's mission in life to become the first ever person to have a period on the Internet.

The bitching and the moaning and the whining and the oh for goodness sake woman, will you ever just shut the fuck up. It's women like this, who consistently search for sexist innuendo in ad campaigns and television shows, that end up pushing women back. Not because of "the mans" inherent need to keep "the woman" in her place, but because people simply just hate anyone whose primary focus in life is to complain. Feminists such as this one are like any other kind of fundamentalist being; one-pronged, short-sighted incessant little creatures that simply don't know how to operate as normal individuals without tarring everything in life with their political agendas.

Now I know that seems a little rich coming from somebody who writes as if he was trained in a secret base camp for misogynists, but I write with my tongue stuck firmly in my cheek and if you're not bright enough to see that, well then I care very little for you or your opinion. Not that I would have cared either way but that's besides the point.

I generally like poking at extremists for my own amusement (and for their own good), and in this case, there would be no exceptions. I made my quick introduction to the site by seeking to engage her in a mature intellectual debate about feminism, by commenting on her newest post (at the time) about an upcoming TV show that would star a feminist as the main character. My pressing comment read something like: "And who besides feminazis, would watch such a show?" Overwhelmed by my masculine intellect and wit, she proceeded to warn me that men with penises were not welcome on her blog and that some waiter dude called Manuel who gets shafted every night in work (his words, not mine) would see me to the door if I continued to be a male. It was then that I quickly scurried to try and mend the rift that was ever growing between us by contributing to the thread with my version of how I thought the show should start off.

*start of scene one*
*main character is making sandwiches.*
*end of scene one*

All in that order. But no, unfortunately she wasn't having any of it, because a few hours later, I checked back and was shocked to find out that she had completely proved my feminazi jibe wrong by....

deleting my comment.

So, being the calm and collective individual that I am, I politely raised my concerns with her about how I thought that she was being a little too restrictive, by commenting on one of her newer posts about an ad campaign that covered women's faces with boxes of tinted moisturizer.