What have you got up there, wee one?
Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear.
I could guffaw a thousand times, nevertheless I would never be able to express my feelings enough. Now, here’s a tricky question: Who’s the lucky one?
Caption this!
Emma Watson the Kitty-Murderer
Another piece of rubbish I did some time ago. This time it’s a parody of thread I once read on the IMDb Emma Watson discussion board. The subject was really hilarious, so I decided to take the mick-nick-lickey out of it. Voilà, enjoy!
http://ma-wo.deviantart.com/art/Emma-Watson-the-Kitty-Murderer-61266384
The Last Weekend
Boohoo everyone. It’s my last weekend of zee holidayz! Oh woe is me!
Back to school, oh shite. *sigh* I actually like school (please don’t hate me), but holidays are better. And harder to let go. Plus, school is full of bastards and not the nice ones. And by not-nice bastards, I mean really vicious, heinous bastards. The kind I like to shove in an oven, burn the living skin out of and eating on my mothers birthday. Those kind of bastards.
But, whatya gonna do? Nothing! So I might as well accept it or at least burn down someone’s house. Hmm, I might do that later today.
In other news, I’ve finished watching American Psycho. ‘T was a very strange and disturbing film, possibly even more disturbing than Clockwork Orange. But considering my 12 attempts on getting through the first half hour of Clockwork Orange, American Psycho is in fact not as disturbing. Furthermore, I enjoyed watching Christian Bale running naked armed with a chainsaw, minus the fact he was a deranged killer chasing after a hooker.
That’s enough for today, my poodles. Cheerio for now!
Not-So New Year’s Resolutions
Welcome to the year 2008! At least it is where I am, it might not be January for you yet.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the past 12 months, I’m sure someone up there gave their best to make you happy. Then again, that’s hardly believable.
Moving on, here are the Not-So New Year’s Resolutions or Very-So New Year’s Revolutions!
1) I will attempt to start smoking in order to fit into a group of “cool” kids who’d sooner see me cross the street to polish their shoes blindfolded.
2) I will wait for the appropriate moment (preferably on Friday after Mother hands over my pocket money for the week) I will pack my bags and move out of my parents house, hoping never to see them ever again. I will move to a container called “Trash Co.” with a man called Patrick Hateman, who apparently is interested in executions.
3) After learning that ignoring insults and petty name-calling is a waste of time and after Patrick taught me a few tricks from past experiences, I shall now wait naked outside my teachers house on New Year’s Day with a chainsaw. Hopefully he has the blinds or at least the curtains shut, so that I may surprise him when sawing off his 11 fingers.
4) Now that I know that there is no God (thanks to Him not helping my teacher as he was screaming for Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus while I was mercilessly “cutting him a slice of sausage”) I shall burn down the church with red wine, three candles and lots of bread.
5) Instead of going on a diet and visiting the gym, I’ll let Patrick literally hoover the fat off me, however excruciatingly agonizing and tormenting it is. Will then use the fat to make soap and sell it to expensive cosmetic stores.
Well, that’s it really. I hope you weren’t expecting much, cos there you have it! At least I fulfilled one of my Resolutions!
Poem 003: Christmas 2007
What is there to say, on this fine Christmas day?
Is it not as dull as the rest?
Every day is ever changing, except the grayness remaining!
But what has it to impress?
What has Christmas to prove, to celebrate?
What shall I rhyme next, please not ‘masturbate’.
Damn, something broke my concentration,
No, it’s not masturbation.
It’s another pointless Christmas show on TV.
Is this to celebrate the birth of Jesus C?
What’s the point with all this Christmas-ing
I don’t love Christ, though he looks rather nice.
But Christianity in general is not my thing!
I don’t do it for the presents nor the shows,
Anyway, on C-Day TV blows.
But it’s the family and friends that I appreciate.
With them, Christmas is worth the wait.
But hell! These shows are so shit!
Eastenders gives me mental fits!
I’d sooner blow my brains to bits!
Now I’m off to bed to rest my head.
Remember all what I’ve just said!
Christmas is a time of giving, ma daars.
Do as Jesus does and as Jesus saars.
Remember to have endless fun.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Pull your trousers up, boy-o!
Caption this pic!
I think it’d be best if I say nothing more to this subject…
Heroes: Slashfiction
Paire, Sylaire, Petrillicest, Mylar, etc..are all just further examples of really hilarious pairings.
And some take said pairings far too serious. I, on the other hand, laugh my buttocks off of them.
Furthermore, I shall parody these so called “’ships” and hope you take pleasure in them.
WARNING: THOUGH ALL NAUGHTY WORDS HAVE BEEN REPLACED DUE TO POSSIBLE READERS OF MINOR AGE, SOME WILL BE OFFENDED. PLEASE UNDERSTAND THIS: PARODIES ARE MEANT TO BE LAUGHED AT. SERIOUSNESS IS NOT RECOMMENDED HERE. SO SIT BACK, RELAX AND ENJOY. AND HAVE YOUR SICK BAG OPEN JUST IN CASE.
Slash 001: Peter/Nathan (Petrellicest)
“Nathan? Nathan, where are you?”
The figure fumbled around, looking for the light switch. It spoke once more, this time with a vague concern, “Nathan, I mean it. Stop kidding around, we need to head off now!”
Suddenly, an even taller figure crept from the shadows. The outline of this person seemed to trace stark nakedness; a view one would do well to embrace.
“Peter, I’d rather stay here. We’re alone at last!”, replied the person.
But this reply did not satisfy its receiver, Peter. Instead, he was rather confused and said, “Nathan, I think the swimming pool is about to close. It’s dark and there’s nobody here. We have to hurry! I’ll be late for my knitting class!”
Nathans answer was simple, “I told them to leave us two alone for a while.” He took a step forward and switched on the light. Nathan saw his brother standing before him, confused and concerned.
“Nathan, put something on. You’re starting to creep me out”, huffed Peter after eyeing his brothers amazingly long milky bar.
The moment was tense. The silence was unbearable. The chemistry was to die for. Nathan took a few more steps forward. His bare feet splashed in the puddles of water. The impact echoed through the empty room.
Yet Peter stood there without moving a muscle. Only watching and thinking, he was. Pearls of sweat indicated his discomfort. But there was something else, a strange glint in Peters eye, a sign of luring captivation.
“Peter, I want you. I don’t care how wrong it is. You see me before you as I am. As I always was. As I always will be.”
“I want you too, Nathan!”
That was enough talking. Nathan approached his younger brother swiftly and they met together in a rather wet and passionate kiss. They made their way towards the diving-board, still unified in their lustful game of tonsil tennis. They were still playing whilst climbing the ladder. It was difficult, but they made it up there together.
“Nathan! What about your job? Your reputation? Your family, Nathan!?”, inquired Peter.
“Don’t worry about all that. Let’s just get this over with and we’ll never speak of it again.”
Peter agreed and the second round began, this time a step under the waistline. Nathan was fortunate enough to find himself already ready for action, but his brother was yet unprepared. It took him a while (the space on the diving board was rather confined), yet the two brothers were able to pull through and push in.
This new match was really an exciting one. There was no referee, thus making the game boundless and without rules. Their only spectators were their very own reflection on the water down below. The diving board bounced and bobbed and the two grown men would spring up and down synchronously. Their groans would echo throughout the room. Then their sweaty, old-fashioned derrière-romp came to a climax. Nathan and Peter literally yowled and bounced up into the air, off the diving board and into the water. All Peter could say was this, “Thank Mother for that!”
Comic 001: A Sylaire Story (Sylar/Claire)
A comic I once did…so long ago…
http://ma-wo.deviantart.com/art/Sylar-in-Da-Catamapillar-70382161
Poem 002: Avril Lavigne
Some call her Anvil,
Some call her Anvil La Giver.
Also known as Viva La Linger,
Or Vaginal Liver.
Whatever her name,
Whatever her cause,
We shall forever hate her,
And bash without pause.
For she is a poser,
A loser, a hack.
Even when hosting free concerts,
Fans demand their money back.
She has no boundaries, no limit, no touch, no edge,
No talent, no brains and an ignorance without end.
I wonder and ponder,
What we did to deserve,
To even have heard of such a vexatious swine,
Such an insolent turd!
Bashing and blundering,
Blasting and boffing,
Kicking and knocking,
Oh how we reserve,
To hate such a twit,
She deserves such a kick!
Oh how much justice such would serve!
You call yourself a Rock Princess,
Well let me get this off my chest,
I shall put you to the test,
Shall prove you are nought but pest,
You are cocky, snotty, smug and vain!
Bloody hell Avril, you are such a pain!
A pain without reason,
A pain without root.
You deserve not even your face,
But your head is worth the shoot.
When loading one’s rifle,
You must remember to think,
To save just one bullet,
For shooting that ninc*!
*Ninc = Nincompoop
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