It may have come to your attention that this blog has died on its arse. From blogging every day for about 18 months to one post in the last four months...well. I had intended to stab this blog in the nuts and garotte it a bit before slashing its wrists, poisoning it and then burning all the evidence but there are actually some people out there who said that I should continue. Fuck knows why. I think De-evolvinG has run its natural course and should now be exposed to death in the way I wish most old people should be (ie in their jimjams, lying on their arse, locked out and probably about -20C just to make sure).
And it's been a good life. How we've laughed at the tales of auto-erotic asphyxiation. How we've pondered the hilarious deaths of old people and members of Irish boy bands. How we've marvelled at me being a Rain God. How we've shoved the proverbial snooker cue up the arse of pricks like that one eyed goon twat who runs the BNP.
So, sadly, it's farewell. I've enjoyed not being sued by some cockbag wanker celeb (even though I did really fucking try) for defamation just because I mentioned that they're a talentless prick. Or a big fat useless cow. Or both.
Now, the curtain's falling and the lights are going out. The audience has fucked off to have a piss in the car park and then a dodgy kebab on the way home. Et moi? Aye.
17 April 2012
16 January 2012
Michael Gove, Monarchist Whove...er...Whore
Nothing gets on my tits more than a Tory fucker sucking up to Der Kveen, and Michael 'Gollum' Gove is right on them today. Self-professed monarchy lover and fish-lipped Tory bastard Gove has suggested that taxpayers cough up £60 million just so's Der Kveen can have a new fucking yacht to celebrate her 600th fucking jubilee. Like she needs one. And whenever she takes the bus, she gets it all to herself and she never bloody well pays so why the fuck would she need a bastard yacht?
Take one Gollum, mix in a scrotum and what do you get? Michael 'Gollum' Gove aka 'Scrotum Lips' Gove. At the moment Gollum Gove is the SNP's best reason for Scotchlander independence, just so's we would have to have dicks like him on the telly telling us how poor we are because of shitwit Tory ideas like giving old medieval despot Der Kveen a bit boat...
Take one Gollum, mix in a scrotum and what do you get? Michael 'Gollum' Gove aka 'Scrotum Lips' Gove. At the moment Gollum Gove is the SNP's best reason for Scotchlander independence, just so's we would have to have dicks like him on the telly telling us how poor we are because of shitwit Tory ideas like giving old medieval despot Der Kveen a bit boat...
9 January 2012
Happy New Year And Bugger Off
So. Evil Tory wankbag David Cameron wants to dictate when the independence referendum takes place instead of Scotchland's democratically elected Parliament, citing that the indecision is 'damaging to business'. Not nearly as damaging as Cameron and his fucked-up policies. Anyway, the BBC Politics website speaks for us all....
Bugger off Cameron and stop interfering. The sooner we get shot of you and your Bastard Coalition (eg independence, election or tragic accident) the better. Happy 2012, my people...
Bugger off Cameron and stop interfering. The sooner we get shot of you and your Bastard Coalition (eg independence, election or tragic accident) the better. Happy 2012, my people...
8 December 2011
Go, Grannie, Go!
Ho-hum. So it's a bit windy today. I say 'a bit' but what I actually means is 'armageddon'. Yes, Scotland's top producer of green energy, the wind, is pissed off. Wheelie bins are quaking in their boots and I've been scanning the BBC News website for hilarious wind-related injuries like, 'Man In Banff Gets Twig Blown Up His Jacksie'.
On the subject of the BBC News website, I came across this. I'm not sure if it's a wind-up (!) or maybe just me fucking about while I should be working or some other shit...
Help ma Boab! Crivvens! Jings! Oh wee Jock's just blawn awa'! Seriously though, this is just nature's way of thinning out the old, sick, bewildered and owners of yappy wee dugs. If the cold or the ice or the Tory Bastards don't get you grannie, then the wind might...
On the subject of the BBC News website, I came across this. I'm not sure if it's a wind-up (!) or maybe just me fucking about while I should be working or some other shit...
Help ma Boab! Crivvens! Jings! Oh wee Jock's just blawn awa'! Seriously though, this is just nature's way of thinning out the old, sick, bewildered and owners of yappy wee dugs. If the cold or the ice or the Tory Bastards don't get you grannie, then the wind might...
3 December 2011
Those Morlocks Are Right Miserable Bastards
And they broke my fucking time machine which meant that when I set the dial for October 7 2011 it made a noise like the clutch slipping or something and BAM! I'm back, 3 December 2011 and I've totally missed two months. Anything exciting happen? Is Thatcher dead yet?
Anyway, I was watching some programme about those lab rats in Swisserland who made particles called nanobananos go faster than the speed of light - ergo they travelled back in time. I hit upon the idea that if you go backwards then exceed the speed of light them you can go forward in time. Fuck me if it didn't work.
So, what does the future hold? It's a bit shite. The Edinburgh Tram Project has bankrupt the whole of the Northern hemisphere except that fat couple from Largs who won all that money on the euro lottery. They invested in this machine that converts thoughts into deep fried pizza and now they own 98% of the planet's wealth.
So I wheeched myself away into the year 897, 265 AD and hung about for a wee bit with some Morlocks. Turns out they're not underground-dwelling, Eloi-munching, green-eyed hippy cunts. They've just a bunch of surly, greetin'-faced bastards who listen to The Smiths all the time. I got totally pissed off listening to Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now all the fucking time so while we were having a party with some liberal-minded Eloi chicks I flipped when this one Morlock twat kept banging on about his melancholia, and when he started to read me some of his poetry I punched him and started a big rammy. Fuck this, I thought, and scarpered but just as I was about to do my wobbly disappearing act some big Morlock called Morris threw a big stone at my time machine and fucked it right up...
Anyone want to buy a no' bad time machine (all offers considered)? It's got a few bumps and scratches and one big dent where that bastard Morris hit it with a big stone but it's economical to run (runs on some sort of lever thing that you have to ocassionally pretend to sharpen) and is guaranteed to provide late Victorian adventures with the possibility of sex with an Eloi of your choice. Just don't have drunken sex with a Morlock unless you plan to not sit down or swallow anything for a few days.
Anyway, I was watching some programme about those lab rats in Swisserland who made particles called nanobananos go faster than the speed of light - ergo they travelled back in time. I hit upon the idea that if you go backwards then exceed the speed of light them you can go forward in time. Fuck me if it didn't work.
So, what does the future hold? It's a bit shite. The Edinburgh Tram Project has bankrupt the whole of the Northern hemisphere except that fat couple from Largs who won all that money on the euro lottery. They invested in this machine that converts thoughts into deep fried pizza and now they own 98% of the planet's wealth.
So I wheeched myself away into the year 897, 265 AD and hung about for a wee bit with some Morlocks. Turns out they're not underground-dwelling, Eloi-munching, green-eyed hippy cunts. They've just a bunch of surly, greetin'-faced bastards who listen to The Smiths all the time. I got totally pissed off listening to Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now all the fucking time so while we were having a party with some liberal-minded Eloi chicks I flipped when this one Morlock twat kept banging on about his melancholia, and when he started to read me some of his poetry I punched him and started a big rammy. Fuck this, I thought, and scarpered but just as I was about to do my wobbly disappearing act some big Morlock called Morris threw a big stone at my time machine and fucked it right up...
Anyone want to buy a no' bad time machine (all offers considered)? It's got a few bumps and scratches and one big dent where that bastard Morris hit it with a big stone but it's economical to run (runs on some sort of lever thing that you have to ocassionally pretend to sharpen) and is guaranteed to provide late Victorian adventures with the possibility of sex with an Eloi of your choice. Just don't have drunken sex with a Morlock unless you plan to not sit down or swallow anything for a few days.
6 October 2011
Soft Footsteps Follow Close Behind
You know what it's like when you're walking home late at night and there's a young woman about 20 metres in front of you. No-one else. You think, 'I'll just hurry up a bit and pass her'. After all she's walking slower than you and you're catching her up. So you hurry up but she hears your hastening footsteps and hurries up too so than after a moment she's 20 metres in front again. OK, so you slow down a bit and let her get ahead but she slows down too. She's knows when to hurry up or slow down so that the 20 metre gap remains.
Then she turns round to face you. You can't stop so you look at your feet, not wanting to catch her gaze. When you're about 5 metres away she suddenly asks you if you're following her.
'I don't know,' you reply. 'Where are you going?' It's meant to be a light-hearted remark, to break the obvious tension.
She scrabbles for her phone and threatens to phone the polis if you keep following her but you tell her you're not following her, you're going home. OK, she says, but do you mind walking on the other side of the road? Why don't you walk on the other side of the road? you ask. Fuck off you fucking pervert, she says. No need for that, you say. I'm phoning the police, she threatens. OK, you say, and tell them what? That a guy who's walking home just happens to be using the same pavement as you? Then, to your great relief she spots a taxi, flags it down and fucks off...
Never actually happened but it's the sort of thing I worry about...
Then she turns round to face you. You can't stop so you look at your feet, not wanting to catch her gaze. When you're about 5 metres away she suddenly asks you if you're following her.
'I don't know,' you reply. 'Where are you going?' It's meant to be a light-hearted remark, to break the obvious tension.
She scrabbles for her phone and threatens to phone the polis if you keep following her but you tell her you're not following her, you're going home. OK, she says, but do you mind walking on the other side of the road? Why don't you walk on the other side of the road? you ask. Fuck off you fucking pervert, she says. No need for that, you say. I'm phoning the police, she threatens. OK, you say, and tell them what? That a guy who's walking home just happens to be using the same pavement as you? Then, to your great relief she spots a taxi, flags it down and fucks off...
Never actually happened but it's the sort of thing I worry about...
5 October 2011
Mr Waffle
I unfortunately saw and heard Dave Dasterdly's waffly drone to his stormtroopers in Manchester this evening. I was eating my dinner at the time (baked spud and salad, thank you) and almost vomited the lot all over Freckles (our pet crow) at the sheer bullshit I was hearing.
Dave and his buds have fucked things up big time. Spending cuts, rising unemployment, rising taxes, food prices, unemployment etc etc blah blah blah and Dave's answer is to say that they have a plan (i.e. they don't) and that they're sticking to it (i.e. they don't have a plan to stick to). He blamed the eurozone (i.e. foreigners) for rising debt and the rioters for everything else. But, he did say, that if we all stick together, put our shoulders to the wheel, grin and bear it, get on with it etc etc etc then everything would be all right in the end...
Oh yes. I've never heard such a big pile of nonsense-filled rhetoric. Just a big pile of shite, really. It was total fuck all. Really...
Dave and his buds have fucked things up big time. Spending cuts, rising unemployment, rising taxes, food prices, unemployment etc etc blah blah blah and Dave's answer is to say that they have a plan (i.e. they don't) and that they're sticking to it (i.e. they don't have a plan to stick to). He blamed the eurozone (i.e. foreigners) for rising debt and the rioters for everything else. But, he did say, that if we all stick together, put our shoulders to the wheel, grin and bear it, get on with it etc etc etc then everything would be all right in the end...
Oh yes. I've never heard such a big pile of nonsense-filled rhetoric. Just a big pile of shite, really. It was total fuck all. Really...
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