The Tutor: "What 12 year old girl wouldn't want to negotiate the windswept moors of adolescence dressed as Jane Eyre?"
Alt F: "The ones who read The Bell Jar at 11!"
The Tutor: "I hate you"
Thursday
Nephew not a Fag
This is my new nephew, Des or Baz or Jez, or something. Or Peregrine.
He’s five days old already. They do grow up fast, don’t they? It seems like only yesterday that he was four days old.
No sign of him being a fag yet, thank God.
UPDATE!
To protect the infant's privacy, I have replaced his photo with a photo of Paul Hogan, the well-known heterosexual.
He’s five days old already. They do grow up fast, don’t they? It seems like only yesterday that he was four days old.
No sign of him being a fag yet, thank God.
UPDATE!
To protect the infant's privacy, I have replaced his photo with a photo of Paul Hogan, the well-known heterosexual.
Wednesday
Anarchy In The U.K.
I am often asked why it is that only the British could come up with "Punk" music. Punk culture, as we have seen, rejected association with the mainstream by expressing youthful rebellion violently. By adopting distinctive styles and adornment ensconced in a variety of anti-authoritarian ideologies, they triumphed.
But why only from Britain and nowhere else??
Well, simply, it's because the British hate their fucking children (Ed note: And who wouldn't?).
The Limey cunts ship them off to boarding schools and when these rectally haemorrhaging warriors from the playing fields of Eton graduate, the kids are not alright - they rebel, drink cider and rock the casbah.
The Italians, those olive-oil-loving bastardos, they amore their children to fucking death. So much so the males are kept as willing prisoners at home, looked after by Mama, until they are in their mid-nineties! No Punk comes from Italy - just pizza pie-like moons and O Sole fucking Mio.
The Swiss don't have children, the sour cunts.
Instead, through parthenogenesis, they give life to humourless bags of adipose tissue and protoplasm.
Scarcely the environment needed to give rise to disaffected youth - no Punk Appenzell dirges here.
Nothing but cuckoo clocks, chocolate and chocolate cuckoo clocks - and alliteration.
The Germans, those master-fucking-race cunts, don't have children either. They machine-tool the little scheißens in a Krupp Armaments factory, and churn out horrid efficient and industrious mini-Hitlers. 99 Luftballoons is the extent of their rebellion.
The Americans are children.
But why only from Britain and nowhere else??
Well, simply, it's because the British hate their fucking children (Ed note: And who wouldn't?).
The Limey cunts ship them off to boarding schools and when these rectally haemorrhaging warriors from the playing fields of Eton graduate, the kids are not alright - they rebel, drink cider and rock the casbah.
The Italians, those olive-oil-loving bastardos, they amore their children to fucking death. So much so the males are kept as willing prisoners at home, looked after by Mama, until they are in their mid-nineties! No Punk comes from Italy - just pizza pie-like moons and O Sole fucking Mio.
The Swiss don't have children, the sour cunts.
Instead, through parthenogenesis, they give life to humourless bags of adipose tissue and protoplasm.
Scarcely the environment needed to give rise to disaffected youth - no Punk Appenzell dirges here.
Nothing but cuckoo clocks, chocolate and chocolate cuckoo clocks - and alliteration.
The Germans, those master-fucking-race cunts, don't have children either. They machine-tool the little scheißens in a Krupp Armaments factory, and churn out horrid efficient and industrious mini-Hitlers. 99 Luftballoons is the extent of their rebellion.
The Americans are children.
America Hates Learning!
Speaking of non sequiturs that are not only blatantly not causative they are not even correlative, I proffer the following:
James Garfield, the 20th President of the United States of America, devised his own novel proof of the Pythagorean Theorem – something not often done since, well, Pythagoras. He was also fully ambidextrous. It was said that if you asked him a question he could write the answer in Latin with one hand and in Greek with the other – simultaneously!
And they shot him for this!!??!!??!!
America’s hatred for learning goes way back.
To wit:
J. Danforth Quayle, the 44th Vice President of the United States of America, is quoted as saying:
"I was recently on a tour of Latin America, and the only regret I have was that I didn't study Latin harder in school so I could converse with those people."
The American Education System, over the last 60 years, has gone from teaching Latin and Greek in high school to being forced to teach remedial English in college – and to her sons and daughters for whom English is vernacular!
This is why the 21st Century will belong to us Mongoloids, not you damn Librul Caucasoids – we value learning, even above personal liberty.
Scientia Potens Est
Knowledge Is Power!
James Garfield, the 20th President of the United States of America, devised his own novel proof of the Pythagorean Theorem – something not often done since, well, Pythagoras. He was also fully ambidextrous. It was said that if you asked him a question he could write the answer in Latin with one hand and in Greek with the other – simultaneously!
And they shot him for this!!??!!??!!
America’s hatred for learning goes way back.
To wit:
J. Danforth Quayle, the 44th Vice President of the United States of America, is quoted as saying:
"I was recently on a tour of Latin America, and the only regret I have was that I didn't study Latin harder in school so I could converse with those people."
The American Education System, over the last 60 years, has gone from teaching Latin and Greek in high school to being forced to teach remedial English in college – and to her sons and daughters for whom English is vernacular!
This is why the 21st Century will belong to us Mongoloids, not you damn Librul Caucasoids – we value learning, even above personal liberty.
Scientia Potens Est
Knowledge Is Power!
Tuesday
Suckling Hatred
'Sdeath!
Great Zenobia's Ghost 'sdeath I say!
In my home country we suckle hatred of the Caucasoid name from our mother's teat.
The Tutor, he being a Caucasoid and all, is a rare exception to the rule(1). In fact, just the other day in Singapore, I espied the nonchalant mover waltzing through airport security and cavorting with slim-frocked, blonde-haired and blue-eyed 'stewardesses' who seemed genuinely thrilled to have such glamourous jobs; and all-the-while shod in Zamberlans at that! I was reminded of a once carefree America that's forever lost - if it ever existed - which I'm too young to have ever experienced anyway.
(1) The members of ABBA and the original Flower Child Donovan Leitch are also included as rare exceptions. Oh and the sexiest man alive - or dead; Paul Newman.
I Just Fucking Adore Global Warming!
Is there anthropogenic global warming? I don't know and I don't fucking care.(1) What I do know is that the combustion of ever-increasing quantities of Fossil Fuels - oil, gas and coal - generates tonnes of killer air pollution. The kind of air pollution that causes much respiratory distress among those who out of insipid ignorance insist on engaging in respiratory gas-exchange leading to the oxidative phosphorylation necessary to generate their precious ATP - the fucking bourgeois organic-chemistry-lovin'-cunts. As a wily psychopath, I am quite pleased with this air pollution thing.
Is it an encumbrance? No it is not!
It is a weapon!
It is not unreasonable for me to believe that my singular use of fossil fuels over the years I've been resident in The Canadas, the use for much of which was for no good reason, has contributed directly to the premature deaths of several people; and I imagine them all to be white people too.
I'm a murderer!
Mea fucking culpa! Of course, many would argue it is only involuntary manslaughter, not murder.
Fair enough, but I would remind these Libruls I have malice of intent, mens rea, there are no mitigating factors and there was a fuck of a lot of pre-planning involved; It's depraved-heart murder, and no mistake. I am no different than that Dzhokhar character from the Boston Marathon bombing - my method just takes a lot longer to wreak its intended havoc.
(1) Though truth be told, which it often isn't, I hope there is Global Warming and I hope that it speeds the fuck up! It is -23 Celsius, that's -9 fucking Yankee degrees by the way, as I pixellate this and I am just fucking tired of the cold.
Apologies to Shel Silverstein and Dr. Hook et al. for doing that to your magnum opus.
Is it an encumbrance? No it is not!
It is a weapon!
It is not unreasonable for me to believe that my singular use of fossil fuels over the years I've been resident in The Canadas, the use for much of which was for no good reason, has contributed directly to the premature deaths of several people; and I imagine them all to be white people too.
I'm a murderer!
Mea fucking culpa! Of course, many would argue it is only involuntary manslaughter, not murder.
Fair enough, but I would remind these Libruls I have malice of intent, mens rea, there are no mitigating factors and there was a fuck of a lot of pre-planning involved; It's depraved-heart murder, and no mistake. I am no different than that Dzhokhar character from the Boston Marathon bombing - my method just takes a lot longer to wreak its intended havoc.
Well, I'm such a killer
I got lyric fillers
I got lyric fillers
And I'm hated everywhere I go...(Sounds like me)
I waste a lot of oil and I waste a lot of gas
At ten thousand gallons a go...(Right)
I do all kinds of spills that give me all kind of thrills
But the thrill I've never known
Is the thrill that'll gitcha when you get your pitcha
On the cover of the Rollin' Stone.
An arsehole
(1) Though truth be told, which it often isn't, I hope there is Global Warming and I hope that it speeds the fuck up! It is -23 Celsius, that's -9 fucking Yankee degrees by the way, as I pixellate this and I am just fucking tired of the cold.
Apologies to Shel Silverstein and Dr. Hook et al. for doing that to your magnum opus.
I Fucking Love Drone-Strikes!
The Peshawar High Court in Pakistan has ruled that US drone-strikes are illegal, inhumane, violate the UN charter on human rights and surely constitute a war crime. Successive American administrations disagree, stating that these 'arbitrary' and 'extrajudicial' executions of enemy non-combatants do not violate international law, and that the method of attack is precise and effective.
The Obama administration proffered this explanation on drone-strike policy in April 2012, concluding that it was "legal, ethical, and wise".
Those who are being targeted by drones in a foreign country are not protected under the general human right to life - it's war! Targeted killing under the law of self-defence is not an action constitutive of "law enforcement" either so law enforcement standards of jurisprudence are not applicable. The United States has every 'Right-by-Might' to fly its drones into any foreign country, especially one with which it is not already at war, and kill any person, or persons, it deems an 'enemy'.
So committed to the efficacy and legality of this sort of anti-terrorism engagement, I would think the great U S of A would have had absolutely no problem at all with the Royal Air Force and/or MI6 (MI5?) commissioning, in the 1980s and 1990s, the then extant versions of the Reaper or Predator drones to strike those Yankee Catholic fuckers in Boston and environs who supplied the fucking IRA cunts with treasure and succor during 'The Troubles'.
Legal, ethical and wise indeed.
And as far as some Librul feckers in the Revolted Colonies hueing, crying and whingeing on about the inevitable civilian casualties, I doubt that would manifest at all in earnest. Not even in Boston itself. Everybody, and I mean everybody - the Yanks especially - knows that if one finds one's self drone-striking IRA Terrorists in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, that any, hopefully massive, "collateral damage" could possibly only involve fucking Massholes. Accordingly, if I might paraphrase Major General James Wolfe's assertion during the Battle of the Plains of Abraham regarding his Scottish soldiers, "they(Massholes) are hardy, intrepid, accustomed to a rough country, and no great mischief if they fall".
I'm not sure if that is Boston in the photograph since I've never been to Boston. I can't be arsed to get my shots, which are free by the way up here in the Canadas, so I would not hazard to venture there. Besides, it's in America - I might catch obesity and there's no pharmacological prophylaxis for that.
Bourdain
If you wanna hang out you've got to take him out; Bourdain.
If you wanna get down, down on the ground; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he don't lie, he bake pie; Bourdain.
If you got bad news, you wanna kick them blues; Bourdain.
When your day is done and you wanna run; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he don't lie, he bake pie; Bourdain.
If your thing is gone and you wanna ride on; Bourdain.
Don't forget this fact, you can't get it back; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he don't lie, he bake pie; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he get high, he bake pie; Bourdain.
He go die!
Bourdain.
Apologies to J. J. Cale
If you wanna get down, down on the ground; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he don't lie, he bake pie; Bourdain.
If you got bad news, you wanna kick them blues; Bourdain.
When your day is done and you wanna run; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he don't lie, he bake pie; Bourdain.
If your thing is gone and you wanna ride on; Bourdain.
Don't forget this fact, you can't get it back; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he don't lie, he bake pie; Bourdain.
He don't lie, he get high, he bake pie; Bourdain.
He go die!
Bourdain.
Apologies to J. J. Cale
Big Dick Energy
Me: "I've just met a new and potentially 'pleasant diversion'. This lark has informed me that he, among other attributes, wields with abandon a weaponized 10 inch penis!
And he's rich!
This bodes well for at least one lushly appointed tryst with all manner of high-threadcount fun!"
The Tutor: "Now if that is to be believed, I shall henceforth endeavor to keep your cervix in my thoughts and prayers."
And he's rich!
This bodes well for at least one lushly appointed tryst with all manner of high-threadcount fun!"
The Tutor: "Now if that is to be believed, I shall henceforth endeavor to keep your cervix in my thoughts and prayers."
Thursday
Right of Repatriation
The BBC has informed me that upwards of 4 million Ukrainians have left the Motherland to escape the Russian invasion.
In 2021, before the war, Ukarinia was adjudged the 44th poorest country in Europe.
There are 44 countries in Europe.
How many of these 'upwards of 4 million Ukarnians' now find themselves in a country that has a significantly higher standard of living, and hence if they remained there, it would promise a better future life for their children?
All of them!
Any country is better than what they endured in Ukarkia before the war!
Better still? How many of these 'upwards of 4 million Ukarpies' will return to The Motherland after the war on their own volition? How many will have to be forced back to 44th worst country in Europe after the war?
Do the richest 43 countries in Europe want a new under-class?
UPDATE
It's mid-May and the BBC now informs me the diaspora has reached 6 million. I reckon the educated and industrious of the Ukrazians will be welcomed by the West and allowed to stay in their new First World/European Union country. The rest will be shipped back to Ukrzialandia in cattle cars to once again endure residence in a horribly corrupt and nasty misogynists' country now buoyed by massive postbellum reconstruction monies siphoned off by the new West-friendly gangsters who will replace the older East-friendly gangsters.
Ukarmina will once again be raped by Global interests funding a new upper-class of crooks and the usual vast array of down-trodden peasants scraping by - minus any industrious folks who were lucky enough to stay away for ever that is.
The result of the war?
Ukarzai will be split between the West and East - each power raping their respective sections and a general population thinned and culled of any folks sporting any intellect and/or energy.
Tuesday
Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery
Que?
Russian War atrocities in Ukrania as Kievan Rus kills Kievan Rus with gleeful aplomb?
Other than causing Hitler to spin joyfully in his grave (1), this alleged revelation is nowt but yawny yawny cunt cunt.
Innit?
Wake me up when the Shchi quaffing Moskals do this:
Then, and only then, will these delightful little scallywags be as good as the Yankee at perpetrating war crimes with impunity.
1) єдиний добрий слов'ян - мертвий слов'ян
Wednesday
Too bad Ukrainia is a fucking third world shithole with no money and arguably run by the most corrupt cream of cunts – and their next-of-kin - to ooze forth from the foetid corpse of the USSR.
Otherwise.......
Just think what that thespian Voldomort Zelenskyy could buy if it were not for this unfortunate fact?
Remember this little fracas and little stunt?
Sure worked for the Emir and his fellow inbred uglies. But then, these arseholes have money. The Cunts who run Ukrainia would be better off under Putin. The regular Khokhols would not.
Monday
Things Can Only Get Better. Innit?
The Tutor: "If I was a Third World Country......"
Me: "Pray tell. What makes you think you're not?"
The Tutor: "Very funny. I mean I can't decide whether I would rather endure an invasion by the American Military under the ruse of 'bringing me Democracy' - like they did in Iraq and Afghanistan - or have the Russian Military invade me to piss off NATO."
Me: "When the current brouhaha in that little corner of Rumsfeldian New Europe has run its course, a total tally of "all collateral damage" should inform your decision well enough.
The Tutor: "I'm secretly hoping the Russians are the safer bet. Just to annoy that not-at-all-biased "The News of the World" web site otherwise known as: https://www.bbc.com/news/world"
The poor Khokhols can't get much worse.
Top 23 Poorest Countries in Rumsfeldian New Europe plus Russian Federation, Iraq and Afghanistan (by 2020 GDP per capita, US$)
- Ukraine - $3,727
- Azerbaijan - $4,214
- Armenia - $4.268
- Georgia - $4,279
- Kosovo (partially recognized) - $4,287
- Moldova - $4,551
- Albania - $5,215
- North Macedonia - $5,888
- Bosnia And Herzegovina - $6,032
- Belarus - $6,411
- Serbia - $7,666
- Montenegro - $7,686
- Bulgaria - $10,079
- Romania - $12,896
- Croatia - $14,134
- Poland - $15,721
- Hungary - $15,980
- Latvia - $17,726
- Slovak Republic - $19,266
- Lithuania - $20,233
- Czech Republic - $22,931
- Estonia - $23,027
- Slovenia - $25,517
- Iraq - $4,146
- Afghanistan - $517
- Russia Federation - $10,126
https://worldpopulationreview.com/country-rankings/poorest-countries-in-europe https://data.worldbank.org/indicator/NY.GDP.PCAP.CD
P.S. The 2020 GDP per Capita of Liechtenstein was $175,814
0808 808 0700
A very recent conversation betwixt yours truly and The Tutor in the latter's sepulchral clothes closet......
The Tutor: "Nu? What do you think?"
Me: "Jodhpurs? At your age? Oh, my giddy aunt!"
The Tutor: "Laugh all you will little missy, but I am investing in my future!"
Me: "Que?"
The Tutor: "Isn't it obvious? I'm grooming myself for the UK geriatric sex trade. In twenty years, my Civil Suit will prove quite lucrative!"
Me: "Fair enough, but fuchsia jodhpurs?"
The Tutor: "They're magenta!"
Friday
Vespertilio flumen Stygem transiit
Ain't no doubt about it
we were doubly blessed
We were barely 17
and we were barely dressed.
Thursday
Ghislaine Maxwell: Survivors speak of relief after guilty verdict
The poor folks still can't decide how to correctly pronounce "Ghislaine".
Saturday
A Sad Time
Our dear friend has just lost her dog. We are all very sad, she being the saddest. I suggested we, The Tutor and I, send her some flowers with the following quote attached:
Upon walking a moonlit field after a great battle, Napoleon Bonaparte, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master licking his face and howling:
"This soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his loyal dog. I had looked on, unmoved, at battles which decided the future of nations. Tearless, I had given orders which brought death to thousands. Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred to tears. And by what? By the grief of one dog."
Perhaps it is best that our beloved pets pre-decease us for the alternative is just too grim to contemplate
I think it quite consoling.
Upon walking a moonlit field after a great battle, Napoleon Bonaparte, on finding a dog beside the body of his dead master licking his face and howling:
"This soldier, I realized, must have had friends at home and in his regiment; yet he lay there deserted by all except his loyal dog. I had looked on, unmoved, at battles which decided the future of nations. Tearless, I had given orders which brought death to thousands. Yet here I was stirred, profoundly stirred, stirred to tears. And by what? By the grief of one dog."
Perhaps it is best that our beloved pets pre-decease us for the alternative is just too grim to contemplate
I think it quite consoling.
Jamais Vu
August 15, 2021
After 20 years of war, American troops help in the evacuation of embassy personnel and other civilians.
Friday
A Victim of Misplaced Confidence
Me: "I'm not revealing to you my address and telephone number! You'll seek me out professing love and then either kill me in a fit of possessive rage over one of my silly platonic men-friends or alternatively slay me for my vast sums of money!"
The Tutor: "I would not kill you for your alleged riches nor would I kill you while reacting in a puerile jealous pique. I would never kill for such a vulgar concern as money - I have plenty of my own. And I would never kill for love - I mean, really, how gauche and ill-bred is that? I would never kill out of religious zeal or political intrigue either. I kill as a matter of taste. Simple as that. I like pasta, I like the colour beige, I like the music of ABBA and I like to kill."
Me: "Very well then: 613 - 555 - 1212. And you better call me!"
The Tutor: "Thank you. You won't be sorry. Do you happen to have any food allergies by any chance? Or any common phobias that could be truly life-threatening if handled indelicately?"
The Tutor: "I would not kill you for your alleged riches nor would I kill you while reacting in a puerile jealous pique. I would never kill for such a vulgar concern as money - I have plenty of my own. And I would never kill for love - I mean, really, how gauche and ill-bred is that? I would never kill out of religious zeal or political intrigue either. I kill as a matter of taste. Simple as that. I like pasta, I like the colour beige, I like the music of ABBA and I like to kill."
Me: "Very well then: 613 - 555 - 1212. And you better call me!"
The Tutor: "Thank you. You won't be sorry. Do you happen to have any food allergies by any chance? Or any common phobias that could be truly life-threatening if handled indelicately?"