loltech

Greetings Citizens. Brace yourselves fuckers, some of you may want to sit down. Or if you are already sitting, you may want to lie down. Or if you are already lying down WAKE UP YOU LAZY CUNT! What could be so devastating as to require ass to chair contact? Only the worst news you weak minded Darnells could ever get; for the foreseeable future this blog is on hiatus. “ZOMG THINK OF THE CHILDREN!” I hear you scream at your monitor “who will warp their minds and teach them new words like ‘gutterfucking fagrat’?”. Fear not my simpleminded simpletons, you can still get your Justin fix, either by emailing me a picture of yourself and arranging a meetup for hot dickings if you are a sexy-type girl person, or jerking off to my facebook status for everyone else. If neither of those things appeal to you, get yourself checked out because I think I just listed the official Guinness Book of World Record Holders for number one and runner up hottest things that could ever happen ever award.

But yeah, if you are one of those sick fucks who are not turned on by the idea of masturbating to words I write at the top of my facebook profile, never fear. I’m only putting the breaks on the blog to focus on the rest of the site for a while. “What’s that? There is more than just a blog here? I thought that other crap was where you stored all the donkey porn!” I hear you say. It is. The donkey porn is here to stay, but besides that it also contains some of my older writings that wasn’t just me screaming in rage at fat people that may have walked past me. I also screamed in rage about other things like bad movies and Hitlers brain in attack robots. I feel I’ve gotten lazy in my rage screaming lately, so I’m switching it up.

First up, every man and his cunt dog is always whining at me about the colour scheme making the text hard to read. Look fuckers, I’m colourblind ok? Red white and black are basically the only colours I can tell the actual COLOURS OF! So forgive me if the site layout didn’t descend from heaven carved into tablets ok dipshits? Fatson is going to help me make the site look like something other than a down syndrome child made it on a graphical calculator in the 10 minute break he had between trying to hump his dog, and shitting in his pants region. This will be an ongoing thing so don’t be all like “oh man he said he was making it look better but it doesn’t look better I want it to look better why doesn’t it look better what’s that voice? KILL EVERYONE? OK!” So yeah, be cool. Like the Fonz. Ayyyyyyyyyyy.

Also I’m currently working on something I havent done since the days of uni, a fictional story. I’m about halfway done with it right now, I’m just writing the one at the moment, but hopefully it turns out funny and I can continue it. It’s called “The Awesomediah Chronicles” and it tells the story of my great great great great great great Grandfather Count Awesomediah Hamill, Lord of Radshire. It’s set in ye olde England, which I know very little about so instead of speaking with “thees” and “thous” and engaging in court intrigue, everyone swears a buttload and acts like a dick. Basically it’s just like me now, only wearing a powdered wig. Sounds retarded right? That’s pretty much what I’m going for.

John Locke will fuck your shit up.

I’m also adding a video section where I plan to record some Fatson and Byron’s jaunts around to shopping centres laughing at the beasts within. Only instead of taking my word that everyone is a gross wildebeest, you can see for yourselves! I’m thinking about also linking funny shit I find during my daily 23 hours of internet usage that people who aren’t me and McGlew may not have seen. Of course I will be adding to already established sections with some articles and reviews. I already have a review in mind. It has a lot in common with this one that nobody fucking read because I forgot to link it here. Here is a hint that nobody but Fatson will get, it involves a high pitched faggot running from a bad green screen fireball. Oh Yeah Fatseroni, it’s totally happening.

So there you have it, the last blog for a while. Savor it fuckers. Breathe it in. Touch it gently….yeah enough of that. Starting today I have 11 days in a row off work, so look forward to some new material in the next few weeks. Imasen ultra-out.

Friendship is rare!

It's funny coz he rapes me there.

So Easter long weekend, fuck yeah children. Too bad its Monday and tomorrow is back to work day. I’ve been breathing in mouthfuls of phlegm all weekend in my usual cancerous state. Can I stay not sick for 15 consecutive minutes PLEASE? It’s ridiculous, I’m like a walking plague carrier. And motherfuckers wonder why I never leave my cave? It’s because the second I step outside I get face raped by the goddamn fucking OUTBREAK MONKEY! It’s raining today and if it continues tomorrow, I’m ACTUALLY going to die. There is only so many viruses the human body can handle, and I’m already about 47 over that limit. So yeah, GOOD WEEKEND! Nah I’m being facetious, it was actually a pretty ok weekend.

Friday I nerded it up with Lord of the Rings Online and Dungeons and Dragons Online, and when I was done SEVERELY geeking it up, I followed it by some comic reading and light masturbation. All in all, a productive day. Saturday I spent with Shona as she tried and failed to match my levels of nerdery by coming comic shopping with me, then I attempted to valiantly resist a pants shattering erection as I stood around in the underwear section as she picked stuff out. I only pocketed 6 to 7 pairs ok? Nothing gross and creepy about that at ALL. Sunday was movie night. Kind of miss-named as it happened mostly in the day and we didn’t even watch a movie. So it was more like get sunburned and chat afternoon/evening. My favorite part was when I got all diabetes retarded and had to go eat, I cruise past the shops and the only 2 stores open are Red Rooster and ADULTSHOP. So yeah, If you ever need some chicken and a buttplug on an Easter Sunday, I can hook you up. I lie actually, my favorite part is when I swung a pillow at Fatson at the same time as he moved forward and hit him directly in the cornea with the zip. The resulting explosion of eye goo could probably be heard 2 states over. Unfortunately he remains unblinded, and my plans for world domination failed. Really though, basing my entire scheme on Fatson being blind in one eye may have been reaching.

Today I went to the video store to pick out the days laziness. I planned to get 2 new releases but apparently it’s to much to ask that every movie released in the last 6 months NOT suck balls. I REALLY liked how there was 15 copies of “Burn after reading” on the shelf unhired but EVERY SINGLE COPY of Rob Schneider’s cinematic Masterwork “Big Stan” was out. I fucking WEEP for the species. To any alien invasion fleets reading this, that was your queue to determine Earth as “Worthless”. Please commence eradication. Oh, and while I’m on the subject of aliens FUCK YOU John Travolta.

Oh if you are trying to comment on the blog, I had to disable comments because I received over 300 spam messages in the last 24 hours for some random online casino. Look you fucking useless spamming cunts, nobody that reads my blog can afford your stupid online casino bullshit. Fuck, most of them are so stupid they think that the monitor is a TV and they are watching the worlds most boring TV show: “Loltech.org? What kind of a name for a show is that? This is booooring! If I don’t get to vote something off in the next 30 seconds I’m going to MURDER MY CHILDREN!” Look man, stop spamming me ok? It fills my inbox and I miss all the important mail outs form busty-cheerleader-chat.com.

I don't even

Oh, I saw this on facebook yesterday. It’s an ad for six pack abs. Why is it odd? Well you may notice that out of ALL the pictures in the history of the universe they could have chosen of a ripped dude with his shirt off, they decided to go with Edward Norton from American History X. lol wut. WHO thought using this in an advertisement was a good idea? “Lose 15 kilos in a week the KKK way! Tired of those saggy lovehandles? Do we have the workout for you! Beat a negro!” Motherfuckers, you can even SEE the god damned top of the fucking SWASTIKA TATTOO you racist CUNTS! Seriously!

Anything else? I guess not. I have a lump of phlegm in the part of my brain that humour used to reside, so sorry if this isn’t up to my usual standard of hilarity. If you want something funny, I suggest you go and hire out the movie I saw while at the video store; “Son of Rambow”. I dont think the actually movie will be funny per se, but the image of you tearing it from the dvd drive, snapping it in half, then embedding it into your own neck is, I think, a vision we can all get behind. God bless you Son of Rambow, God bless your stupid, STUPID fucking soul.

Why?

For reasons too complicated to get into, I’m in a terrible mood and want to vent my anger. Luckily the other night I saw the brand new Nicholas Cage film “Knowing”. Actually now that I think about it “luckily” might not actually be the best word to describe it. This is the worst film of the year, even after Max Payne, which was the cinematic equivalent of sticking a razorblade down the eye of your penis.

First off, if you don’t like Christian allegory, stay the fuck away from this film. They don’t even attempt subtlety. It barely even qualifies as allegory at all its that blatant. It’s like being hit in the balls with a stack of bibles. Basically, it’s “The Bible” starring Nicholas Cage. I would describe it as a cross between Noah’s Ark and gay. For starters, Nicholas Cage is the worst actor ever. LOOK CUNT, pausing after every second word doesn’t make you sound deep and insightful, it makes you sound like as a baby your mother dropped you on your head. Into a FUCKING WHEAT THRESHER! Stop fucking pausing you retarded sounding prick! Also, if your hair plugs are higher on the billing than you, its time to give up acting and look into a career in the fast paced world of suicide. I’m not going to go into the specifics of the movie, because that would require remembering them, and if I tried to unblock those memories I cant promise that I wont fly to LA and punch Sophia Coppola right in her distantly related fucking ovaries.

So we fatsoned over to the Carousel Thursday night. The first thing we encounter as we were trying to park is some Elephantitis looking bitch screaming at us for having our music to loud or not smelling enough of butter or something. I of course reply with: “look bitch, just because you ate your entire graduating class”. The night got fatter from there. I’m not going to lie, we were nearly drowned by a wave of human garbage. Every direction we looked there was some form of faggotmonster hungering for our non syphilitic flesh. Fatson was looking particularly smooth. He’d done his hair to somehow look twice as Fatson as it normally did. I cant actually explain it as it is a non naturally occurring phenomenon, but its like he had his normal haircut, only more-so. It is now referred to as Fatson 2.0. I really need to get a camera. We saw some, which could loosely be described as people, who defy Darwin’s theory of natural selection by surviving despite NUMOEROUS physical and mental defects. Fatson of course, it too fucking scared to take photos on his phone unless he is 4 states away dressed in full camouflage up in a snipers nest, so I don’t have any pictures. Still, it might not make any difference, as the sheer weight of the ugliness of the shitstains we saw that night would drag this page off the internet and down into the depths of Lake Drinkswhilepregnant.

The reason for the trip, aside from our weekly wild hippofuglymous hunt (CRIKEY, that’s an ugly one cobba!), was to get me a new TV. My old TV being willed to me by my great great great great Grandfather, Awesomediah Hamill, upon its discovery at Botany Bay by the First Fleet, was being transported to Oxford

This is what my old TV would look like if it was 3000 years newer.

Museum by Indiana Jones for archaeological study. We visited JB Hifi, and I picked out a TV large enough to land a commercial airliner upon. It’s the third sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The first being myself, and the second being myself in a pirate costume. Rounding out the top five are Shona at number four, then at number five, myself in a pirate costume holding a photograph of myself in a pirate costume. Next to the TV.

The dude who sold me the TV was also named Justin and agreed with my choice in “I pwn noobs” shirtage. He was basically the Asian remix of me. We nerded it up a bit and I gave him one of my business cards because lets face it, I have like 42 hundred of the fucking things and I’ve met a total of 16 people in my whole life, so its either give them to random sales dudes or use them to build the worlds largest me-covered fort. If you are reading this discounting sales me-remix, hi, and welcome to YOUR DOOM! And yes, before anyone mentions it, It didn’t occur to me at the time, but the day after I realised, I just gave my phone number to a dude. I now want to go back and tell him it totally wasn’t in a gay way, but he’s probably already taken out three to four different restraining orders against me.

Friday night. Fatson has his impressions up over at his blog. But since I’m way hotter than he is I thought you might like to hear my impressions instead. Calm down ladies, there is plenty of me to go around. So I wrote a blog a while back about my sisters wedding to her husband Adam. Now, generally Adam is a good guy and hes great for my sister. But hes been living a secret life. By day hes a mild mannered engineer who makes more money than me and God put together. But at night he takes off his engineer pants and puts on his RAPIN’ PANTS. Wait, that doesn’t work. He puts on his…..um…..RAPIN’ BALLGAG AND MATCHING NIPPLE CLAMPS. Wait….lets just step away from the metaphor here. Basically he puts his penis in things against their will. So he spent a large portion of the 3 hours we were there molesting me in various scarring and horrifying ways. He was poking, prodding, punching, headlocking, yelling in my face, grabbing my fist and making me punch Fatson, at a few points he literally scaled me like a fucking sexy and hilariously funny mountain. The only relief I got was when he paused with molesting me to go molest Cos.

Security footage captured from inside the concert.

Apart from the molestation, I had to share my oxygen with the rest of the neckbearded fuckbags. I realised very early on that I hate everyone in the history of everything ever. Drunk people are worse than Smallpox. And probably uglier. I had gone to see Drapht, but he was sharing the stage with Downsyde, who I hate. Plus he didnt sing any of the songs I wanted, none of the serious lyrical shit I like, instead he did the typical Australian drunk cunt anthems about drinking, sluts, and drinking with sluts. Plus, the warm up acts consisted of some girl I wanted to throat fuck, partly because she was hot but mainly because her songs sucked bawlz, and MC Disaster, who lived up to his moniker by not only being terrible himself but by actually EXTRACTING the talent of people in the audience and wiping his nuts with it. Then handing it back. So yeah, not my favorite night ever. Basically I’m never going out again, unless its to a fucking stripclub in a waterslide park next door to the blowjob factory.

From left to right: Bi-curious, Tits McGee, Tits Out, Leonie (Number 1), has tried cocaine.

So for some reason Fatsons sexy workmate Leonie wants me to write erotic fiction about her and her 4 girlfriends sexily having pillowfights in their underwear in slowmotion while talking about how they would like to sequentially then concurrently ravage me. I’d really like to Leonie, but unfortunately my penis and I have come to an arrangement to restrict masturbation to 6 times a day, and I’m afraid he has made me sign a binding legal contract. I’ll tell you what though, we should get together and discuss it over a cool glass of totally not spiked drink of your choice up to to the value of three dollars. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I have a video camera, so that’s gotta be worth more like 473 million. Grab your friends and some candles and incense and we can get this ball rolling. Man I need to go get one of those chairs with “director” written on it. Ive always wanted one of those motherfuckers. We can spilt the profits 50/50 between the producer and director, both being me. You can keep the handcuffs and baby oil though.

Aaaaaaaaaanyway, enough out of me. It’s 11pm on Sunday night and I have work tomorrow. Hate. Until next time, I hope you all die. Imasen out.