Category Archives: Venting Rage

Now this one could be exciting! This is when Miles Lloyd the pacifist goes nuts at people he’s too scared to go nuts on in his real life.

Surprise, Surprise, My Life is Shit Again or; Why I can’t Join ISIS.


Working in Berlin is a funny one, eh? It turns out the only reason employers give you a job is so they can fuck you over in the shittest possible way as soon as you think you’re comfortable. I don’t mind losing a job, as long as it’s for a decent reason. Well, to be fair I didn’t lose this job. I quit. But I quit because my hours were cut from full-time to 4 a week because the person I replaced decided they didn’t like their new job and wanted to come back. The fucking prick. So what do I do now? I’m poor and jobless again. Oh! And homeless, because I can’t afford to move into my new flat today anymore.

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I Googled “Periscope” by Myself, or; Fuck That Puddle.


So there’s a “puddlewatch” going down on Periscope (If you don’t know what that Periscope is, Google it. I’m not your mother and you’re an adult). Someone, somewhere (Probably Drummond), has set up a webcam to watch a puddle (I assume Drummond because its hashtag is *NAME REMOVED*, but it’s just a normal puddle. There are currently 10 people watching it. Two of them have a tape measure, yet people are walking through it. Walking through it! Dressed in normal clothes! It’s the kind of puddle that’s just a puddle, but it has a bigger following on periscope than I have had bowel movements my entire life, I assume. People are fucking insane.

Good for me, though, because I haven’t done a Live Action Comedy Blog-Cast in fucking ages! The last one was intense. If you want to have a play-by-play update of my using Firefox instead of Google Chrome for the first time and all the comical situations it got me in, check this out!

Anyway! 15 minutes have passed since I last saw what the fuck this puddle shit is all about. Let’s check back!

puddle-clipart-blue-water-drop-effect

Artists rendition. Actual puddle not available for comment as of print.

 

Another cyclist cycled through the puddle. I’ll keep you up-to-date on the goings on.

11 more minutes passed: Four more people have arrived. One man walked towards it with clear confidence, but bailed at the very last minute. A German Skoda advert just played on Spotify.

6 more minutes passed: Two youths walk straight through puddle, both looking at their phones, browsing Grindr.

2 more minutes passed: All original Ponders* have left. Three newcomers have arrived. One man walks consistently in-and-out of shot. e is obviously skeptical of the ponds powers.

5 more minutes passed: *CUT TO SOME GUY DRESSED LIKE SOMEONE I WOULDN’T TALK TO AT A PARTY, BUT IN AN OFFICE*

So yeah. That scene change just happened. Then the camera went around this office, and everyone was cheering and waving at the camera, all on their own periscope accounts, probably. Trying to be all “meta”.  I want to call them hipsters, but they’re Northern and we all know there’s no such thing as a Northern hipster. “Oop Norf” they just have cheap DJ’s and bad cocktail bars.

So a massive disappointment. I think it was some marketing pricks. That’s why I removed the hashtag they were using at the start – because fuck marketers. I know I left enough information in for you to Google it and find out yourselves so my dirty protest is, sadly, in vain, but I needed to have that much information in to give you context to what I was narrating to you.

I don’t want you to think I’m mental.

*Coined it

Tomatoes, Tea & The Most Disgusting Thing I’ve Done Since Saturday.


First of all I’d like to find out if anyone else knows what the fuck is wrong with the bakeries in Berlin. Half a slice (that’s right, half a slice. As in a thin semi-circle of tomato) is not enough for a baguette. And, on a similar subject, four inch-thick cuts of cucumber (four slices at an inch each, not one slice at four inches. That would be thicker than the baguette, you fool) is far too much to be in the same baguette. It’s just not fucking cricket. I want the vitamins in the tomato. I’m ill (physically ill not Beastie Boys ill) and I’m trying to be responsible about it but staying in bed and eating healthy things but sometimes I feel like the bakery by my house just want’s me to die from a fibre and cucumber overdose. And while we’re at it, sort your fucking cheese out. What you sell isn’t cheese, Germany. It’s just thin slices of stiff milk. Also your crisps suck and paprika isn’t a proper flavour and it’s called a bell pepper not a paprika.

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Yet Another Problem With the Music Industry or; Cock-Fighting Pigeons?


Before we begin; an open letter to the recorded music business. Another one. I know I’ve done it before (see Kanye, Kim & The Poor Little LesbianThe Curious Case of Nikki Minaj and her Skin Colour or; Burn it All, Two Cups of Tea & I’m Still Not a Belieber) but I want to do it again.

Dear The Recorded Music Business,

Where the hell do you get off? Huh? How dare you keep allowing these inconsiderate pricks to release songs? You know the people I’m on about. The ones who don’t care about me, the listener, they just care about releasing whatever is going to make them money next. Some of us are going through a Morrissey-esque I’ve-never-been-loved-and-nobody-wants-me phase and yet you continue to allow songs that invoke real feelings to be played across the airwaves. Where are all the Nikki Minaj’s? Where are all the Little Waynes? Nobody wants to hear songs about real emotions, you fools! There is no demand for it any more. All you’re doing is making people feel and that is not cool. People just want to hear songs about how good someone elses life is compared to their own. I want to hear songs about how many cars someone has or how many women they take home every night or how someone is more talented than “all you other bitches”, etc, etc, not songs about love lost or bridges burnt or the realities of having to live in a materialistic world where we are all consumed by the little things that don’t matter as opposed to the big things that do. You are destroying society. Nobody wants to feel. Feelings are gay. Anyway, rant over. Now on to the good shit. The real shit. The important shit that actually means something.

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The Most Important Things I’ve Learnt All Day or; The Most Least Important Things I’ve learnt All Day


Right, so what I’ve decided to do today is, even though I’m still meaning to have my cancer charity rant,  stick to “news” papers. I was reading the Metro today on the tube. For those of you that don’t know it, it’s a free “news” paper you get on the London Underground and I think I can improve it, so this is kinda like a open letter to them. Let us begin!

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I’m going to Frack My Garden, Your Garden, Everybody’s Garden! or; I’d Frack my Own Face if I Could


Something unusual happened in Bristol yesterday. well, not Bristol as such, but the Bristol Channel. There was a 4.1 magnitude earthquake. Also, in the last fifty days there has been 42 earthquakes in Nottingham but these have been very small, ranging between 0.8 and 2 but a 2 is not half of a 4. The way it works is a 2 is 2,000,000x stronger than a 1, a 3 is 3,000,000x stronger than a 2 and so on and so forth. Apparently, this mental amount of earthquakes has been put down to “mining” but I don’t think that’s quite the case. I think it’s been sugar-coated a bit.

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BBC News & The Mystery Effs.


I have literally just lost all respect for the BBC as a respectable news source. There’s a report on their website from two days ago, warning people about a dangerous new craze that’s started going round. It’s called “prinking” and it’s truly awful. It’s when you have a night out, maybe go to a club or something, but  before you go out you have some drinks in the house. Pre-drinking. That’s right. the BBC are reporting having some drinks in the house a “new trend”.

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