Help The Aged

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The villain of Netflix's new film The Old Guard plans to capture a gang of immortals so that he can experiment on their genetic make-up to find a way of having us normal folk live a little longer. What an evil bastard. Not because he wants to capture the immortals. I couldn't give a shit about them, but why the fuck is he trying to extend my life? The other day I discovered that I'd panic-bought so much cheese that a lot of it was about to go past its expiration date. Amid this absolute fucking hysteria, I began performing several surgical operations on the cheese to remove its cancer-like mould before then traipsing around my local area to find friends who might be willing to store it in their fucking freezers for me. Right now, the average lifespan for a male in my country is about 81 years old, of which I have already had 31. Are you seriously telling me that somebody wants me to live past that? I can't even look after a few blocks of fucking cheese and yet somebody thinks that I'm so important that it would an absolute tragedy if I lived passed the next 50 years? Fuck that and fuck them. I don't mind spending my day on a brief pilgrimage to cytogenetically freeze my soon-to-be-off dairy products if I've only got half-a-fucking-century to kill. But if I've got longer than that then what the fuck am I going to do with my time? No, thank you. How about trying to extend the life-span of my fucking cheese and then perhaps we can talk. 

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From Cradle To The Grave

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Alice Lowe's comedically black horror film Prevenge begins with the line that David Attenborough has never had the balls to use; “Nature's a cunt”. Having found herself knocked up and alone, the lead character Ruth appears to have lost her fucking mind and I honestly don't think I can blame her. Her baby still has a little while until its due but already she believes that she can hear it talking to her and it mostly seems to want her to kill people. It's all just 'want, want, want' with these fucking kids, isn't it?! But can you imagine getting pregnant? It's a fucking terrifying idea. One minute you're having a fun time fumble with somebody that you hopefully fancy and the next you're preparing for a tiny human to blast their way out through your fucking genitals. Thank God I was born a male because unless that shit Arnie movie from the early nineties turns out to be a true story then it seems pretty unlikely that I'll find myself up the duff anytime soon. I honestly think that expecting mothers are braver than fucking soldiers because of what they have to go through. At least if you go to war you can convince yourself that you'll return unhurt and having taken a few of the enemies down with you. But pregnant women? There's no escaping the inevitability that a tiny person is about to rip their way out of your vagina and there's nothing you can do in retaliation but love them for it. Nature really is a cunt. 

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Is There A Starman Waiting In The Sky?

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Incredibly, I once found myself preparing to go out on a date with an actual human lady and so to make the most of this rare event I decided to buy myself some breath mints. “Why are you getting them?” My friend asked. “I stick a mint under my foreskin”, I joked, “that way my date will have minty-fresh breath when she kisses me after a blowjob”. “Really?” My friend asked in awe like a total fucking moron. “No”, I bluntly responded, “obviously fucking not”. But had I actually done that then in many ways that breath mint stored snuggly up my cock would have very much been like the film The Vast Of Night, in that it took me completely by surprise but was an absolute treat none the less. In honesty, it's been a few days since I saw the film but such was its power that I think I'm still yet to begin breathing normally again. I watch a lot of films and, as with all of life, the majority of everything is shit and ultimately nothing more than a loading screen of mundanity to tie us all over before we fucking die. But every so often you'll take a bite of that one incredible piece of fruit, or hear that one perfect piece of music, or have that one life-changing mega-wank and suddenly all of the other efforts will have been worth it for having lead to that one monumental moment. The Vast Of Night was one of these epiphany experiences and without any real poetic skill to express how I truly feel about it, I'll simply have to settle for telling you that I loved every single fucking second of it with every single fibre of my motherfucking piece-of-shit heart. 

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