................................................I was once known as Aquarians Love To Fuck (ALT-F). I am now Vagina Dentata (VD)................................................


Wednesday

My Computer Is Sad

There is no theoretical reason why a ‘machine’ system couldn't develop consciousness. Whether it would be practical or not is another matter. You can only seriously believe ‘machine consciousness’ is theoretically impossible if you think there is something magical about neural systems that repudiates the laws of physics - or if you're a Cartesian dualist.  All the scientific evidence suggests that this is not the case.  There is nothing, however, preventing one from placing ill-considered confidence in Cartesian dualism excepting possibly one's possession of robust qualia and the skeleton key to Mary’s Room. 

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.  Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.  I've watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.
Time to die."

The Isle of Cunt


Okay, now listen!
It's bad enough this blog attracts visitors from Kenya, Cyprus and the USA, but I've just been informed by The Tutor there's been a Manxman skulking about.
A fucking Manxman!

Twice!

Take that testicular agenetic Triskelion and that inane motto of yours, Quocunque Jeceris Stabit, and fuck off!  And take those caudal agenetic cats and those freakish corniculate polygenetic Loaghtan sheep with you too!
They're as fuct as those tree-climbing goats they have in Morocco!



UPDATE
And there have been fuckers from Gibraltar and the United Arab Emirates here of late too!  I beseech you in the bowels of the divinity of your choice to leave me be. 

VD Angst Part I



Me:  "I was tested for autism as a child because I would not speak to anyone except my mother, my older brother and occasionally to one of my cats.
I could sit somewhere for hours and say nothing.
I miss those days."

The Tutor:  "I don't see why you miss that since blogging, especially your blogging, is also you just 'sitting somewhere for hours saying nothing'.
Just saying."

Plica Palpebronasalis

Me:  "You're just jealous!  Asians are superior to you white folk.  Do you require proof of our superior status?  How's this:  we of the  Mongoloid Race have three copies of our 21st and you of the Caucasoid and Negroid Races have but a measly two!
Ha!
Losers!"

The Tutor:  "'Mongoloidism', a now pejorative term, was used to label those folks who sported either partial or complete trisomy of the 21st chromosome.
This was NOT something one would want to possess, much less brandish."

Me:  "Oh dear.  You're not too swift are you?

Born Free

We are gonna take it.
Yes! We're sure gonna take it.
We are gonna take it, evermore!

The Tutor and I watched this nature programme last night on the television.  It was about the current plight of the large fauna in sub-Saharan Africa - particularly the Big Cats.
The future doesn't look good for the lions, cheetahs and leopards it seems.  I reckon the jackal and hyena won't fair well either, but the Western sentiment - read: Disney sentiment - regarding these beasts is negative so who cares, right?  Anyway, The Tutor and I decided to apply our considerable cognitive abilities to devise a solution to the plight of these cute beasties.  The loss of habitat, the ever-encroaching presence of humans, and poaching seem to be the major problems.  We came up with several solutions though some are more palatable to Western sensibilities than others I should think.

To wit:

Solution One
Cull the humans.  This could be done on a random basis or perhaps with eugenics in mind, you know, for a bit of genetic engineering.

Solution Two
Establish large Game Preserves for the fauna. Fenced to keep the locals out more so than to keep the animals in.  Oh, and an army of well-armed Park Wardens to dissuade any poachers or peasants seeking land on which to grow life-giving food.

Solution Three
The West, the Arab World(the oil-rich bits) and the Chinese could relinquish all the land they control in Sub-Saharan Africa and give it back to the autochthones.  Of course, this will mean the Caucasoids in Europe and Arabia and the Mongoloids in China won't get their plentiful supply of inexpensive vegetables and fruits all year round.  And they won't get their current lion's share of the mineral wealth for which Africa is famous.
If the Africans could benefit from all the wealth of their continent the extant wildlife would have nothing to fear.  A wealthy Africa would soon reach a stable population, start to decrease even, and huge tracts of land could be set aside for the indigenous flora and fauna. Harmony!
Of course, if this were to happen, the absolute and relative wealth of the West, Arabia and China would decrease so precipitously that concern for the welfare of the fauna in Africa would disappear from the collective consciousness of these folks and the once popular Nature programmes would be replaced with Soup Kitchen Reality shows.

Solution Four
The Tutor and I have just registered a Not-For-Profit organisation named: "Save The African Big Cats Before They're Fuct".  The purpose of our little project is to collect donations from guilt-ridden Caucasoids in the West so that they might feel better about themselves and assuage the emotional turmoil of their inherent hypocrisy.(1)  According to our Prospectus, a massive 15 percent of all tax-deductible donations collected will be transferred directly - no graft, no middle-men - to our vast network of compatriots in Africa.
Our dedicated indigenous agents, after buying the necessary cases of "Tusker" and the latest in Safari fashions and cell-phones, will spend every remaining cent to help Elsa and her cubs. The remaining paltry 85 percent of the donations collected from the very generous Western folks will be retained by The Tutor and me to cover unavoidable administration expenses and our salaries.
Win, and fucking, Win!


(1)  The Arabians and the Chinese don't feel guilty, yet, so it wouldn't work on them.



The Tutor tells me that the folks in the West have been inundated with a constant stream of news items about the seemingly never-ending and incessant plagues, pestilence, wars and genocide(s) that have befallen the Dark Continent for as long as he can remember.
No other continent has had cause to endure such heinous visitations from the god of Abraham like poor Africa has.  It is hard to believe there are any people, much less fauna, still alive there.  Imagine our surprise when we discovered that over the past 30 years or so, the human population of Africa has increased, on a percentage basis, more so than any other continent.  How could that be?  Either the Africans have an incredible birth rate, or the calamities befalling Africa are nowhere near as destructive as we are lead to believe.

The Wanderings of Vagina Dentata


Some time ago, I spent a few blissful weeks one summer in Drumcliff, County Sligo, Republic of Ireland.  Ahhhhh......... the wonderfully halcyon days of one's misspent youth.  Innit?
On one particular warm and dewy night, while meandering about in a drunken haze after imbibing too many "Marmite Shots" enwrought with whiskey - not whisky - at my local, I happened upon the restful graveyard of St. Columba's.
Memories of my recent tryst in the loo with a "mad, bad and dangerous to know" Republican rapscallion raced through my veins and mind.  Feeling a bit flushed, I took off my clothing and lay upon a nearby bed of cool, river-washed pebbles and fell fast asleep.
Upon awakening hours later, in the shadow of a grey monolith, I found myself surrounded by a group of Yankee tourists staring in pity upon my nubile yet gravelly form.

"Cast a cold Eye
On Life, on Death,
On pebbled Flesh.
Horseman, pass by!"

Is all I said.  

King of Jerusalem

His Majesty The King Juan Carlos I of Spain has abdicated in favour of his son, Crown Prince Felipe.  I hope he soon enters politics, 'cause I'd sure vote for him!
I remember the 2007 Ibero-American Summit in Santiago, Chile wherein a watershed moment in International Diplomacy was enacted.  When the now dead Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez repeatedly interrupted the speech of the then Prime Minister of Spain, José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero, His Majesty the King interjected:

¿Por qué no te callas?

I just love that man!
Did you know that His Majesty The King's many titles and honours includes that of King of Jerusalem (As successors to the royal family of Naples).
That's cool.
I wonder if anyone has bothered to inform the Israelis, Palestinians and other interested parties in that benighted area of the world that they have a King?

Innit?


UPDATE

I can't help but think this would be a perfect solution to the troubles in the Middle East.
Ha!
Reconstitute the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem over which will reign its rightful titular head; The Monarchy of Spain.  And as an extra bonus, the Spanish Monarchy has links to:

- Her Majesty Victoria, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland Queen, Defender of the Faith, Empress of India.

- The Hapsburg Dynasty through Emperor Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire.

- The House of Bourbon through Louis Quatorze, Le Roi Soleil of France.

- The Carpetian Dynasty and the royal family of Poland.

At the very least, the Tapas Bars that spring up all over the place would be a welcome respite from the vile Falafel dumps they have now.  How could the various factions continue to kill each other when plenty of cheap chopitos and boquerones are to be found on every corner?  The serving of tapas is designed to encourage conversation because people will not be so focused upon eating an entire meal, quickly, before once again filling the streets to resume killing each other. Tapas consumption is known to elicit quiet dialogue and camaraderie.

Another solution to the troubles in the Middle East would be to turn the entire fucking place into a self-lighting and glass-bottomed parking lot with nukes.
Drastic, but effective.
Of course, those currently living there would be escorted out prior to the deluge.  I can hear the hue and cry now, from both Palestinian and Jew alike, in unison and in English, "Shite!  Here we go again!"

~Bilious C. Pudenda~ 

Jutes Can Fuck Off!

Vagina Dentata said...
Those filthy Swedes of IKEA offer meatballs(1) in their UK outlets?  All we get in The Canadas are:
RIKTIG ÖGLA - an adult intimacy aid.
And.....
FYRKANTIG - something on which to gnaw while engaging a RIKTIG ÖGLA, vigorously.

(1) Swedish Meatballs?  That reminds me of a conversation I had with a geography-challenged Canuck-fuck who, not surprisingly, traced her ancestry back to Engerland.

Her: "Is Greece in Sweden?"

Me: "Yes.  Souvlaki is just Swedish meatballs on a stick."

The poor dolt was also unaware that Ireland was an island. I didn't have the heart to tell her that there are actually two Irelands; Northern Ireland and Real Ireland.


Some Cunt said...
VD, may I suggest that the Canoook of supposed Engerlander ancestry may actually have been of Jutish ancestry. It seems that Jutish sperm is in demand in those Sceptic Isles. Apparently the Jutes are good looking and dependable. Now I've been knocking out blond, blue eyed brats for four decades and I only learn now that I could have been paid for my 'spasms'. Unfortunately for the women involved, and unlike the Jutes, I'm not very dependable. Check out the following link and weep.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2667262/Why-British-women-giving-birth-Viking-babies-conceived-Danish-donors.html.


Vagina Dentata said...
".....'spasms'....." ????
You mean pushy, pushy, grunt, snore?
Or perhaps as a potential blonde, blue-eyed brat progenitor: pully, pully, grunt, snore?
British women have no taste.  Now leave me be or I'll go all Rorke's Drift with an Ulfberht on your sorry Jutish arse.
Wanker!


Some Cunt said...
Leave you be?  Perhaps in the next life.


Vagina Dentata said...
It is through your egotism and earthly desire that you have created the causes for your incessant future becomings, or Samsara.  You'll be plagued by cycles of rebirth and redeath.
By virtue of my dutiful and life-long ascetic practices, I have finally attained sanctity and liberation, or Moksha.  I will be free of this cycle upon my next death.  There is no next life for me.  So, I think it best you go for it now.
Innit?


Some Cunt said...
Pray tell where is the empirical evidence for your esoteric and mystical philosophy?  ‘Show me the data, show me the data’.
Belief in an after life is nothing new, of course.  Man has always yearned for rewards in another life because the corporeal one is so hard.  But belief, in anything, doesn't necessary make it so.  How can consciousness survive the death of the brain?  Now there is a conundrum.  Socrates himself postulated oblivion when we die.  How can a dreamless sleep be bad?  However, it is clear that the Platonic Socrates did actually believe in an afterlife where he could dispute for an eternity.  His reasoning for the existence of an after life is not very convincing, at least to the modern mind.
On an unrelated topic.  I have been known to produce ‘seed’ at work.  This was at the behest of the boss and strictly directed at developing new protocols.
Therefore, if I'm not mistaken, this makes me a professional wanker.  A word to those who would like to follow me in my sticky footsteps.  Do not forgo the use of a wide necked vessel.  It saves on the floor cleaning, innit.


Vagina Dentata said...
The Platonic Socrates?
Meh! He was a tosser.
Now the Socratic Plato, well, there's a manly man.  He knew Greece was not in Sweden and didn't care if Ireland was an island or not.  I mean, it's bloody Ireland for christ's sake - the autochthones there were still swinging in the trees, evolutionarily speaking, at that time!

And as far as dreamless sleep goes, it can be really bad.  If after a two-day bender consuming buckets of TESCO cider one has neglected to re-balance one's electrolytes prior to the inevitable crash-communing with Morpheus, one's precipitous depletion of potassium ions gonna gets youse some wicked crus and thigh cramps.

As for your precious data, vis a vis cycles of rebirth and redeath, how's this:

http://keeppy.com/attachment.php?id=15656

Innit?

Where The Fuck Is Ireland?


The Customer:  "I'm here to pick up a Table Arrangement for "X"."

Me:  "Give me a second.  I'll find your order form.
"

The Customer:  "It could be under "Y" or perhaps "Z"."


Me:  "I can't find any of those names.  Were you the person who ordered it?

Or are you just picking it up?"

The Customer:  "Picking it up.  My grand-mother from British Columbia ordered it a few days ago."


Me:  "Are you sure she ordered it from us?  There are two other Florists in town, could she have ordered it from one of them?"


The Customer:  "I don't think so.  We always use your shop.  I got my wedding flowers here, last year."


Me:  "Can you call your grand-mother and find out if she ordered it here?  We have no record of it and it is unlikely we would have lost it.  We're pretty good at not doing that sort of thing."


The Customer calls her mother - not her grand-mother.


The Customer:  "You were right.  My grand-mother ordered it from "So-and-So Florists"."


Me:  "Well I feel better.  I would hate to think we could lose an order like that."



The Tutor remembers her and her wedding flowers.
She was one of a pair of recent high school grads, on their way to university, who suggested The Tutor should 'go on Jeopardy' because he knew that Ireland was an island - this was unknown to them.  And her wedding colours/flowers were just as stupid.  Humans depress me, a lot.


UPDATE

I just completed a very 'quick and dirty' poll with 27 customers over the last two hours.  All adults with at least high school matriculation.

The first question:  "Did you know that Ireland is an island?"

19 said "No".
8 said "Yes".


The second question:  "Can you point to Ireland on this map?"

18  refused or incorrectly located Ireland.  One chose an area in India.
5  were very close - circling the UK and Nordic countries.
4  correctly identified Ireland's location.


The third question:  "Did you know there are actually two Irelands?"

25 said "No".
2 said "Yes" and named them.


Sunday

Dance Me To The Wall


Is it me or has 2016 been a very bad year for death?

Saturday

Sic Transit Gloria Honeyblossom

The Tutor:  "Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily Hutchence Geldof is almost dead!  First her Aussie pa orfs himself* with a bit of snake-skin on November 22, 1997, just after she was born.  Her mam then goes and orfs herself* with an opiate on September 17, 2000, when she was four.  And then, her fruity step-sister orfs herself* with sommat on April 6, 2014, when she was 17.  I'm thinking there might be a genetic predisposition for this sort of behaviour amongst these folks.  Nature of course, certainly not nurture!  Yes?"

Me:  "I'm fucking thinking you should learn to speak fucking English you creepy old man.  The present continuous tense should only be used to describe continuous actions which are taking place at that very moment, and should only be used with continuous verbs. Non-continuous verbs should never be used with the present continuous tense; one should use the simple present.

You with your 'I'm thinking there might be...' and Ronald with his 'I'm loving it' can all be fucking off."

The Tutor:  "You're just jealous your parents didn't name you Fifi Trixibelle."


Me:  "I'm thinking Astala Dylan Willow Phaedra Bloom Forever is exotic enough."



* According to some folks, they weren't suicides, but a result of "foolish and incautious" behaviour.

Fair enough.

Thursday

Convenience

The Tutor:  "Care for a shag?"

Me:  'It is not convenient."

The Tutor:  "You mean proper?"

Me:  "Proper?  No.  Convenient."





You would not believe how many times I have used that line since I saw "The Russia House" way back in 1990.  You know, when both Connery(1) and Pfeiffer were sexy.

Innit?



(1)  Of course Sean is still sexy, but as we  all know, the sexiest man alive, or dead, is still - and will always be - Paul Newman.

Saturday

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.

Fucking With Neo-Nazis

Dear Neo-Nazi Defence Cohort League,
I have noticed that your collective spokesmen have been, over the last decades or so, 'silenced' in one way or another when they decry that the Holocaust did not occur.  I think it regrettable that upstanding christian white-folks like yourselves cannot deny the Holocaust if it should suit them to do so.
It's just, like, totally unfair.  These politically correct times are a real pain in the a**.  I think I might have a solution though.  If one cannot deny the Holocaust, perhaps one can deny the world conflagration within which the Holocaust occurred?  If one denies that World War II actually took place, one is de facto denying the Holocaust took place.  Smart, right?
I've checked with a Lawyer, a Jew as it happens, and she tells me this will work!

Regards,

Bilious C. Pudenda



Dear Bilious C. Pudenda,
Thank you for your email and your suggestion.  We think it unlikely that people would believe that World War II did not happen.  We ourselves are certain World War II took place.  We respect Herr Hitler and his supreme philosophies and he is rather connected to World War II.  It certainly took place. We are quite certain that people, even White Christian folk, would think us to be idiots if we took this position.
Thank you again for your email and suggestion.  Do keep in touch.

Sincerely,

Neo-Nazi Defense Cohort League



Dear Awesome White-Boys,
I understand how denying that World War II in its entirety took place might be problematical, but one must weigh one's priorities.  If denying the Holocaust is of pre-eminent importance, sacrifices will be needed.  And as far as your belief that folks will consider you to be idiots for denying WWII, I would not worry.  As it is now, the vast majority of Humanity consider y'all to be idiotically imbecilic and inbred morons already and taking this position could not possibly besmirch your well earned reputation for totally fuct learned exposition.
Just sayin' is all.

Regards,

Bilious C. Pudenda



No Response

Thursday

Drinks!

  50 cc  Russian vodka
  50 cc  British 'London' gin
120 cc  Tonic water
  20 cc  Lime juice

Stir with someone's penis, no ice.


I call it a:  Kim Philby!


Clever.  Innit?


If you use Plymouth gin, NOT London gin, with a dash of Angostura bitters. 


I call it a:  Guy Burgess!

Cleverer still.  Innit?

Wednesday

Keats

Me:  "Mes tres chers amis de mon coeur, or words to that effect, I have this message for The Tutor, 'You are nowt but an aged scapegrace'."

The Tutor:  "Scapegrace?  Well, let me just say this little Missy: I am sophisticated, soigné, sumptuously attired; rigorously cosmopolitan, regularly un peu distrait, relentlessly loaded, and I am above all things brutally heterosexual.  For instance when a lady calls for my ministrations, regardless of the cause, I rush to her loins.  A broken heart, a bouncing cheque or a circulatory system rife with Butyrophenone can all be eased by my warm and coddling embrace and a working knowledge of oral anti-psychotics.  What price the frightfully jolly old ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’, eh, VD?
‘Tis the time now for new posts.  Innit?  I would oft-times settle down with a steaming pot of Darjeeling and 120 milligrams of Pyridostigmine Bromide(1), the better to enjoy the reports of your rustic, rural rambles.  Any chance of re-running at least your greatest works, with a dedication to our dear friend Griselda - The Fucking Scorpio?  It will remind us of happier times, before Blogger fell to the juggernaut of Facebook and bang went the neighbourhood."

A copse of Elder leaves about your Fascinator to keep the flies at bay.


(1)   Pyridostigmine to off-label treat POTS

The Cunt-cation

The wonderfully honest Travel Industry has coined many variants of the word Vacation in order to accommodate the disparate reasons why folks might want a specialised itinerary when on holiday.
For instance;
A Graycation is a package designed with the elderly traveller in mind.  A vacationer content with an all inclusive tour package where nothing is left to chance and all the activities are pre-planned and designed to suit an older, slower lifestyle.
A Raycation would be a package designed with the hedonistic sun-worshiper in mind.   Beaches, tanning-beds, lounge chairs and endless sunshine; you get the picture.
The Straycation was developed to accommodate the less-than-faithful folks who wish to, if not break at least bend, their vows.  These packages allow the fidelity-challenged and randy singles and couples to partake of pleasant diversions with strangers outside the traditional relationship(s) they might have back home.
The Gaycation is a special subset of vacation experience for a specific demographic.  Packages include resorts and itineraries that are homosexual and/or lesbian friendly or themed. A big hit.
That Siberian Soya-based twat, Griselda, - the 'Boadicea of Dupont Circle' - travels twice a year on Braycation with her pet donkey - the filthy, bestial cunt!
And that rather dyslexic cunt: The Tutor, thinking he was registering for a Viking-themed Slaycation in ever-so pregnable Lindisfarne, inadvertently signed up for a Danegeld-themed Spaycation in Skegness instead.  As a result, he is now a little light in the loafers.

Ha!  Danegeld - Spaycation - get it?

The Scrying Cunt


Some girls tell me that when they are with a man they use them for ecstasy.  I cannot comment on that, but what I can say is that using men for extispicy is not without its Cassandral benefits. 

Mea Maxima Culpa

It appears I have inadvertently tweaked the clitoris of the resident Alpha female; who, as we speak, is attempting to re-assert her dominance.  The non-denouncing of me by the Alpha male has forced her to hang about.  It seems I am considered a rival.
Nonsense, of course, but heh, de-feminised Yankee wimmen know no other way; so indoctrinated by the horrid Yankee Patriarchy as they are.(1)
I am not a threat Ms. Alpha female.
NOT AT ALL!
I am utterly besotted by that antipodean Kiwi cunt.  I mean, would  the otherwise awesome, and eminently effable, Alpha perform an exquisite Haka before ravaging his intended?
I think not.
And let's face it girls, nowt, and I mean NOWT, naturally lubricates the organs of matrimonial necessity quite like a Ka Mate Haka!
Thy tongue deviseth mischiefs; (Psalms 52:2, KJV)

As much as I enjoy yins and this Internet cloaca of yours, Alpha, I fear your toadies are too vociferous in their dullardic(2) protestations of my presence to render any further visits of yours truly comfortably tenable.  If only they possessed the matrix and efficacy of a delightful nuero-synaptic transmission network such as do we.  Unclouded as it must be by ego and that horrid clique/tribe/pack mentality they's all has in your wank-circle.


(1) Having been born into the Ruling Class of a decidedly non-Western Matriarchal culture in the country formerly known as Burma, I know of what I speak.  Did you know that in my native tongue, we do not have a word for Feminism?  We do have, as you might surmise, a word for Masculinism.
Funny that.
Despite the totalitarian nature of our socio-economic political system, we's quite enlightened; we even tolerate Masculinazi writers.
I mean we haven't burned all the copies of our most infamous Masulinazi pop-up books.
The Male EunuchThe Masculine Mystique and even The Penis Monologues can all be had after presentation of the right paperwork.  We've even managed to convince our males to cherish their virginity and adopt its concept as something which they should be proud to maintain - at least until they are sold into indentured servitude by their mothers that is.
Can you believe it?

(2) My neologism.  It certainly isn't listed in the OED.

The Vulvanator!


Bites back, more like!
Innit?


I now know what my costume will be for the soon-to-be upcoming First Annual Fancy Dress Debauched Bacchanal.  Last year I wore nowt but a white camisole upon which was written in multiple instances the words, Ego, Id and Superego in black cursive script.
Get it?