Cruise Control For Earth

Sometimes it's best to read all of the instructions before trying to use a device that you intend to have save you some time. I heard a story about some guy who bought himself a camper van and seeing that it had cruise control, decided to go for a drive. Now we sane people know that this simply means that the vehicle will maintain its speed without you having to dick about with the pedals. But this golden fuck-nugget bought the thing under the assumption that cruise control meant autopilot and that he'd never need to steer again. So the dipshit went for his drive, popped on the cruise control, and without so much as a test, went to the back to make himself a cup of tea. Cut to one minute later when the road hits a bend, and suddenly Dopey the Dick finds himself smashed to buggery and on his way to the hospital. I think he then sued the makers of his vehicle, presumably on the grounds that he's a braindead, fucking, numpty.

Bullet Time

Like a lot of people, my parents were stupid enough to get married and as a result are obviously now divorced. After twenty something years of marriage, they returned from a holiday with the news that I was now from a broken home. At least one of them didn't have to unpack their suitcase, I suppose. In the time since then, they've both found new partners and we've all been happier since. My Step-Mum punched me in the throat, my Mum's partner phoned my up in a rage to randomly tell me that I was a “piece of shit”. My Dad told me not to bother with my dream of one day trying stand-up comedy because I'm just “not funny” and then when I was going through a bad patch, my Mum said it was my own fault because I'm simply “incapable of being happy”... I wonder fucking why! I think it's only thanks to a laid back temperament and an aggressive addiction to hardcore pornography that's prevented me from going on a kill-crazed, murder rampage. It's nice that people feel I'm calm enough that they can talk so bluntly at me however sometimes a bit of humanity might be appreciated. Is it just me or do most people find that after about five minutes of talking to their parents they'd be delighted for the chance to just walk out into oncoming traffic?

Lucky Number 7

I was once camping in a field with my friends because we couldn't afford real holidays at the time. It was the middle of the night and we were all a little drunk when suddenly there was a loud crashing sound. A car veered straight off the road, into the air, through the surrounding fence and onto our campsite. It was the most exciting thing ever! Quickly, we campers surrounded the intruding vehicle like a cross between the Top Gear audience and The Lord Of The Flies. Obviously a few people helped the driver but most of us were just there for a good bit of lollygagging to make the evening go quicker. In fact, there was an empty baby seat in the car which led most people to believe that a child must have been catapulted out of the vehicle like a fucking Looney Tunes cartoon. As the hunt began for the non-existent child, the police turned up and dragged the driver off for being quite obviously as pissed as a fart. This is the reality of car accidents- and also one of the main reasons that the Fast And Furious franchise is so absurdly over the top that Vin Diesel could shit out a whole Gremlin halfway through the film and it wouldn't be any more ridiculous. Within about half an hour, the incident was over, we were back by our tents and drinking cheap cider as a way of convincing ourselves that we really were having fun.  

Great Scott!

Tony Scott is a bit like my old pet rabbit. I didn't know how much I loved either of them until the day they committed suicide. Obviously they chose different methods to end their own life but I guess the result was still the same. In fact, my rabbit’s death was more of a metaphorical tribute to Marlon Brando's career, if we're being completely honest. He got old, fat and lazy, refused to move, started shitting himself and eventually got maggots up his arse and died. But the fact remains that from the day that both my rabbit and Tony Scott concluded their story, I realised I was going to miss them. Previously I'd dismissed Scott as being the director of mostly dumb action films, which he obviously was. However this isn't a reason to dismiss him, it's a reason to celebrate him. I don't know if you've noticed but life is fucking shit! Let me summarise our human existence for you... It goes, birth, stress, stress, stress, stress, stress, death. It's why millionaire directors jump off bridges, why cute little rabbits shit themselves to death, and why I'm so grateful for dumb action movies. At the end of a long hard week I think that a pizza and a film that doesn't require my brain is the best way to relax. Well either that or a blow job, but I'm single, a geek and unlike DVDs I sadly can't buy blow jobs off Amazon.com.