What are you doing reading this article? Haven’t you heard? The world is ending! Instead of perusing this admittedly awesome blog, you should be hugging your loved ones, attempting to fulfill your ultimate desires, and praying to the almighty Lord Xenu for entry into his volcanic afterlife. Dammit, there are so many things on my bucket list I haven’t yet accomplished, and I don’t have much time left! I still haven’t ejaculated onto Selena Gomez’s tits and made Demi Lovato lick it off, re-watched every episode of Boy Meets World so I can enter a Boy Meets World trivia contest and win a date with Topanga, punched David Lynch in the nose for making terrible movies that only pretentious cunts enjoy watching, or locked two down’s syndrome victims daily medication in a safe until they wrestle each other for my entertainment.
The world’s going to end! Half the population will be killed by bird flu! Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster will form a colossal tag-team and embark upon a double team of destruction that will end existence as we know it! We’re all fucked!
…Oh wait a minute, I just remembered I don’t have anything to worry about because I’m not a complete fucking retard that mindlessly believes and frets about inane prophecies spewed by cretins and swindlers. Much like the most recent Armageddon that was supposed to occur on Saturday, according to the predictions of a Christian group from California. Shockingly, and to the relief of rich Jews everywhere, there was no rapture, and no returning magical carpenter to be seen. The only thing resembling Judgment Day over the weekend was when I watched Terminator 2 again. Which is funny, because there’s more chance of the robots taking over than anything in the Bible being true.
But there’s another date on the doomsday horizon according to thousands of doomsayers in books, radio shows and on this world wide web of internetz, who have declared that 2012 will be the real end days. December 21’st, 2012, to be exact. I sure hope I’m not busy that day.
A man named Patrick Geryl insists that 2012 will be a reality. Geryl is an author and amateur astronomer from Belgium, with a face for radio and a voice for people that enjoy irritating accents. When not eating chocolate, reading Tintin comics and jerking off to topless Van Damme pictures, Geryl enjoys pretending to be a scientist, with a number of people believing his uneducated spiel.
Geryl claims that civilization will be destroyed in 2012 and nothing can stop its demise. According to the bespectacled goon, a “gargantuan solar flare” will be thrown to the earth from the sun after a sunspot occurs, with a huge amount of particles falling into the south pole that will push the inner core of the earth upside down. Apparently, this will cause the north and the south poles to swap around (will somebody please think of the compasses!). Then he says multiple devastating natural disasters will occur and a gigantic tidal wave will envelop the world. Worst of all, Geryl states, computers will stop working! Great Caesar’s Ghost, computers not working?! Being unable to watch porn online, millions of internet nerds won’t feel like living anymore anyway.
Geryl’s beliefs are all based on the Mayan calendar. According to them, supposedly, December 21’st is the date when the shit hits the fan. This is a little vague however, because it doesn’t take into account the notion of different time zones. When it’s December 21’st in Japan, it could still be the 20’th in America. The Japanese could be tucking into their whale cereal while the Yanks are watching their evening dose of mind-numbing reality TV. Does the solar flare arrange it’s schedule around this temporal predicament? How thoughtful!
The Mayans are the ancestors of the Mexicans, and you shouldn’t really trust everything a bunch of old Mexicans said. If a Latino gangbanger explained that his whole familia were born north of the border and that his lowrider can “bounce as high as the roof on my crib, holmes”, would you believe him? If Consuela the middle aged Hispanic maid insisted she never stole your favourite towel from your bathroom that she cleans, despite it being missing, would you believe her? So if some crazy Mayan’s claimed the world was going to end, why believe them?
Sure, the Mayans were primordial mathematicians and astronomers. They also used to hack up virgins as sacrifices. Surely if they had any sense they would have fucked them first? What kind of primitive mindset exists where someone would say “I’ll marry the ugly bitch over there that’s engaged in intercourse numerous times and has a pussy the size of the Grand Canyon, but I’ll throw that tight-vagged 16 year old hottie in the pot and carve her tits off”?! Yeah, these dudes were a profoundly civilized people.
But it’s not just the Mayans that prophesized the end times, because there’s been tons, none of course which actually transpired. The aforementioned Saturday rapture, Y2K, author Ronald Weinland’s claim that by 2008 America will have collapsed as a world power, Nostradamus ‘Great King of Terror’ to strike in 1999, and thousands and thousands of religious fanatics throughout history claiming the end would be near. Hey, maybe they all got those one’s wrong, but this 2012 one is definitely correct, right?
Geryl claims humanity should start new civilizations before 2012, and everyone should join his survival group. He says that his survival group need “at least” a billion dollars. Because once the solar flare has destroyed all of the earth’s people, obliterated all structures, institutions and forms of commerce, and rendered currency obsolete, the survivalists are really going to need all that dough. What are these heavily-bearded paranoid weirdo’s going to spend their billion on? Strippers? Will they somehow preserve a strip club and stick 100 dollar bills down a gyrating post-apocalyptic dancer’s thong? Wow, the end of the world sounds sexy!
If a solar flare hits the earth, it isn’t going to wipe out humanity, and will have hardly any effect on us. Our atmosphere is capable of coping with a massive strike, with an invisible barrier like the deflector shields on the starship Enterprise. In 2003 the earth was hit by some “X-class flares” which are one of the most powerful kinds, and the planet has throughout it’s history been hit by everything the sun can throw at it. These are the proven claims of respected solar physicists. But why believe that when you can pretend you’re in a Roland Emmerich disaster movie?
Then there’s others like doomsayer and author Jaysen Q Rand (a pseudonym for a Mr. Paul Bruce Bondora) who shares Geryl’s belief that the world will end on December 21’st, 2012. Coincidentally, Mr. Rand also maintains that he knows this because he was abducted by extra-terrestrials from the planet Epsilon, on a flying saucer where the aliens informed him of this vital information. But again, why listen to actual scientists when you can believe ancient bullshit from the Mayans (even though many Mayan historians claim that the Mayan’s never even believed 2012 would be the end) or the clueless pseudo-science and incorrect physics of fear-mongering mongoloids/charlatans?
The nonsensical prophecies peddled by the likes of Geryl and company are either the genuine delusions of brainless simpletons, or fraudulent claims made solely for profitable purposes, such as the several books he’s written on the subject. It’s just as bad as nutjob Christians that think that one day there’s going to be a “Judgment Day”. The worst thing is, lots of people believe this shit, just like lots of people believe in the bullshit written in the Bible. Just like in organised religion, people are manipulated by their fear, and because humanity is filled with stupid cunts that allow themselves to be metaphorically fucked in the ass time and time again. Their anuses must sting worse than a hornets nest.
If the world were to end in 2012 though, as implausible as it is, the world would miss so many substantial, momentous events that would have followed. Humanity would never get to witness Lindsay Lohan’s first hardcore porno and subsequent overdose and death, the next batch of stimulating reality TV shows like ‘America’s Next Top Hooker’ and ‘Celebrity Paralysis’, the next Nicolas Cage abomination (and similarly abominable wig), or the future trends of vacuous, abhorrent hipsters that are just being “ironic”!
On second thought, maybe the world ending next year isn’t such a bad thing after all. Maybe I should hope I’m completely wrong and 2012 is the end. And if that’s the case, hell, let’s party like it’s December 20’th, baby!
Scotland-land of undulating hills, spectacular glens and lochs, and a welcoming people? Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle asserted that Glasgow, typical of most Scottish cities, “is like Blade Runner without the special effects” and “like Paris…after a nuclear war”, while before venturing to Scotland one should turn their watch back roughly 25 years. As much as iconic poet Robert Burns would wax lyrical about his country’s rich natural beauty and his people’s proud strength, quite frankly I’m more inclined to agree with Boyle.
Let’s be realistic here. Scotland could be best described as the living incarnation of Tolken’s Mordor. Haddock-white flesh puckered by the Highland breeze; an incomprehensible tongue, filled with little else than obscenities and volume; the nauseating stench of whiskey and deep-fat fried slabs of uncooked meat permeating the air; pregnant teenagers vomiting on the laps of cackling, ginger-bearded brutes; incessant drizzle, following the people around like clouds of despair; the screeching sound of bagpipes akin to the agonizing screams of a dying child; men viciously head-butting each other for no apparent reason; kids, desperately praying that one day they leave this ginger, gloomy, booze-soaked dystopia for the safety and comfort of England.
Every Scotch man, woman and ‘wee bairn’ that’s suffered the curse of being born in Scotland wishes they were English. Which is why it’s positively mind-boggling that certain members of the Scottish government are calling for independence from the British union. Scottish National Party leader Alex Salmond is the spearhead of this nationalist movement, calling for a referendum and tirelessly working to achieve his vision of Scotch secession from the United Kingdom.
One has to wonder if Mr. Salmond has recently been the victim of an atrophied frontal lobe, or he simply wishes to imprison his people within the confines of their dark realm without any light at the end of the tunnel (that shining beacon of course being passage south) because he’s an evil, dastardly man. Perhaps next he’ll attempt to put forward plans to air Taggart 24/7 on Scottish television (“MUDDER all day long!”), or ban smiling. Do the depths of this man’s malevolence know no bounds?
If Scottish independence indeed transpires, it will inevitably lead to a situation dangerously similar to the America/Mexico illegal immigrant problem. With an official border being sanctioned, Hadrian’s Wall will become an enforced barrier to stop illegal Scottish immigrants from crossing over, and will be increased in size and scale. Much like the Mexicans do, the Scotch will be desperate to escape their increasingly hostile land for the freedom and contentment of England. England will have to employ border patrol police as the Scottish fence jumpers become the bane of the English government’s existence, renowned for the dampness of their pallid, freckled backs and their insistence on boisterous singing despite trying to avoid detection.
This will in turn lead to cultural division between the native English and the immigrant Scotch. The English people will suffer as the illegal Scotch take their jobs, with economically-ravaged companies preferring them to the natives as they’ll work for a deep-fried mars bar a day instead of minimum wage. Before you know it, Haggis Bell’s will be popping up all over the place with only the Scotch being employed there. Overzealous police officers will demand that every Scotsman in the country shows his papers or else be instantly deported back north.
The illegal immigrant Scotch will attempt to masquerade as English in order to avoid detection, no doubt employing such methods as dying their unsightly ginger hair in darker tones of brown and black, devouring tic-tacs by the dozen to mask the scent of whiskey and broken dreams lingering from their breath, replacing aggressive displays of “A dinna ken!” with affable greetings of “jolly good show, old chap!”, resisting the urge to throw a large log in the air every time they pass some woodland, and cutting down their weekly thievery to just three stolen Primark t-shirts a week.
Scottish ghettos will materialize in every rundown section of England’s cities. Scotch street gangs will each have their own gangsta tartan and ride pimped-out used-Skoda’s, as the poison of Glasgow begins to infect the streets. Gang wars will ensue between the illegal Scotch and the blacks and Asians. It’ll be like the Warriors with overweight Glasgow Rangers fans. Chaos will reign supreme, and before you know it, they’ll be more of them then us!
This is the very real threat brought on by Scottish independence. People of the United Kingdom, you have been warned. Oh, they’ve got great golf courses though. So, um, at least there’s that going for them.
So wacky Islamic terrorist leader and stoning enthusiast Osama Bin Laden was finally found and killed, shot directly in his head by US Navy Seals inside a fortified compound in the city of Abbottabittabattabuttaderkaderkabad, leaving a bullet-sized hole in his unwashed turban the size of Paris Hilton’s STD-ravaged vagina. While the American government has officially claimed responsibility for the death of the deranged 9/11 mastermind, Japanese company Sony have been informing people that they in fact should be credited for his capture and subsequent killing. Apparently Bin Laden had all of his contact information placed in his Playstation Network account.
During the raid on the compound, several other Al Qaeda members were also killed, while there were thankfully no casualties among the American military operatives that stormed the building, though one of the elite fighters was said to have ‘cut his pinky’. Another of the soldiers was said to have almost passed out due to “the rancid stench of vindaloo curry emanating from thousands of sweaty brown pores…it will haunt me forever.” The Navy Seals that infiltrated Pakistan did so without the Pakistani authorities’ knowledge, which many believe is why Osama was actually found. The Pakistani government was fiercely indignant when faced with accusations of covertly assisting Al Qaeda, and in an official response said “NO YOU!”.
Not all American citizens are convinced that Bin Laden is dead though, despite Obama’s administration providing DNA evidence. A spokesperson for the self-proclaimed ‘Confederate American Group’ who claim to represent the voices of the majority of southerners in the US have asserted that Bin Laden can’t be dead, because he saw him give an interview in the White House earlier today. Meanwhile Asian communities in the UK including those in Bradford, Leeds, Birmingham and Manchester have held solemn memorials in town centers, with Islamic flags being held half-mast outside Chicken Cottage takeaways in honor of their fallen idol. In an ironic twist, these melancholy parades have been interrupted by white protestors burning turbans instead of poppies and carrying signs reading “Behead those who insult common sense and rationality”.
Now while I’m extremely happy that this sick, worthless and despicable Islamic scumbag has finally been dealt with, I’m annoyed that Bin Laden couldn’t get his followers to perform one last act against the western world before his demise. That act, you ask? Bombing the ever-lovin’ hell out of the Royal Wedding.
If there’s one faction of self-important scum that I detest as much as Al Qaeda, it’s the Royal Family. The Queen, Prince Charles and the rest of the equine excrement that make up that congregation of cunts are the putrid, pulsating boil on the ass crack of the United Kingdom. So you can imagine how I felt about William and his bride to be tying the knot in a very public affair last friday.
The only thing worse than these snobbish, redundant, elitist, tax-dodging, buck-toothed, secret-society linked, Princess Diana-killing vermin was the absolute hysteria that the notorious Royal Wedding garnered from every corner of the globe. Rather than be appalled at the overwhelming absurdity of a monarchy existing in this day and age, the world’s population has been celebrating the marriage of the ‘royal young’uns’ like it’s the second coming of Elvis and Michael Jackson combined. As TV stations across the globe cancelled their originally scheduled programming to air this overblown, ostentatious puddle of wank, news stations dedicated hours, nay, days of coverage towards it. And in England, the country stopped in it’s tracks to embrace two posh fucks that couldn’t care less about them, the “commoners”, and the whole time I asked myself: “WHY?!”
WHY did thousands of mongoloids of all nationalities converge around Buckingham Palace and Pall Mall to catch a glimpse of the royal couple as they made their way from Westminster Abbey to the Palace? WHY have Americans in particular being obsessed with a horse-esque twat and his barely above average-looking wife in a ridiculous gown? WHY did watching these inbred mutants somehow invigorate Brits with a sense of patriotism when the royal family do more to hurt their country than help it? WHY did BBC1 feel it appropriate to replay the same 5 second footage of the couple kissing again…and again…and again…? WHY didn’t someone lock Camilla Parker Bowles in her stable and distract her with a months worth of hay so the world didn’t have to witness the horror that is her grotesque face? And WHY…oh WHY couldn’t have Al Qaeda bombed the lot of them to the moon?
Hell, I would have taken those small-time Irish dumbasses from the IRA. Shit, I’d have been content with a bunch of pissed off midgets with miniature explosives strapped to their diminutive chests. Anything. But there wasn’t a hitch, and everything went smoothly, much to my chagrin. Then a couple days later, after not acting when he should have, ol’ crazy beard was found and killed.
The hysteria of the public towards the royal wedding got me thinking. Osama could have avoided assassination and completely overturned the terrible reputation he accumulated by simply copying what Will and Kate did-by staging a royal wedding of his own (which would inevitably be followed by the ‘Royal Beheading’)! If the world went crazy for the Brits, they’d surely show an equal appreciation for the ragheads, right? Imagine the ‘Jihadist Wedding 2011’. Instead of ‘Will + Kate’, it would be ‘Osama and Nameless Female Servant #9’. Rather than the opulent furnishings of Westminster Abbey, it’d be the rustic charm of a dank Pakistani cave…with several balloons and streamers!
Rather than deliver wedding vows, Osama would quote the Qur’an about the evil of infidels, while Nameless #9 wouldn’t be allowed to talk underneath her black ninja costume. But it would still be totally compelling. Afterwards, Osama would feast on the finest Halal foods (and by ‘finest’, I mean the most recently captured wild goats outside), and Nameless #9 would enjoy the leftover bones and grease in a separate part of the cave. Then, a few hours later, Osama would consummate his ninth marriage in the same way he did with his previous eight: 35 second intercourse, and if Nameless #9 were to dare reveal any semblance of pleasure during this, she would be stoned to death by the remaining wives. A truly noble death.
Granted, it would lack the pizzazz and razzmatazz of the royal wedding, but I’m certain the Jihadist Wedding would topple the western world’s perceptions, make them forget all about that little 9/11 thingy, and embrace Osama in the same way they opened their arms to Will and Kate.
But it’s too late now, because the camel jockey’s dead. Oh well. Maybe it’s time for Kim Jong-Il to stage a little Korean marital union of his own before it’s too late. I did hear that the fearless leader is a little ronery…