Dear Bitch

Dear Bitch,
Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule of sucking random guys’ cocks to read this letter. I will try to use simple language so you can fully comprehend what I’m attempting to get across to you. Shit, there I go already, using ‘big’ words. Comprehend means understand.

Anyway, firstly I would like to thank you for the time we spent together. I now know that no matter what happens to me in life I will be able to deal with it because of the way you treated me. Spending the rest of my life in Guantanamo Bay, would be paradise when compared to the time we spent together. I’ve also become able to point out girls such as you, to save me from heartache and loss of money in the future. Because you my dear, are a condom chick. I know what you’re thinking; “How am I a condom chick? I don’t even like rubbers”, well trust me it has nothing to do with the fact you ride bareback unaware of sexually transmitted diseases. You are a condom chick, because much like condoms you spend more time in a man’s wallet than on his dick.

I would also like to take this time to forgive you; yes your illiterate eyes read that sentence right. I FORGIVE YOU for all the lies you told me. I have now come to understand that you are predisposed to being a lair because you were born with a vagina. Like all females before you, you are nothing more that a fucking lair. I’ve been told many lies in my life, from many different women. My mum started the trend by lying to me at a very early age, telling me such untruths as; “I’ll buy you a MegaDrive”, “I love you” and “I know who your father is”. But when it comes to leading me on, you take the cake. After a while it became fun watching you try to lie yourself out of the previous lies you told. Of course, I lied you too, but what I told were little white lies, such as “I’ll be home soon” and “Of course I not cum in your face”. Seeing as I forgave you for the lies you told and also seeing as you have full vision back in your left eye, I think it is appropriate that you forgive me for the lies I told.

Now please pay attention now, because there are some truths that you really need to take onboard. You are no different from any of the other little skets that are around. For some reason you have this strange belief that you are somehow better than everyone else, but sadly your not. It may be depressing to read, but it’s the truth. You surround yourself with scum, so what does that make you? You have no reason to look down on other people, you are no better. Also, please stop with this self pity bullshit, you are a spoilt little brat and still you complain. Like an idiot, I did everything that you asked of me, but that was still not enough. But heaven forbid, if I’d ask something of you I was a “lazy fuck”. Of course, being a relationship with me must have been hard for you, seeing as I didn’t cheat on you or slap you about, although you probably deserved it a couple of times. But to me it’s clear to see that you need drama in your life, but instead of sitting down with a nice cup of tea and watching Eastenders like most normal folk, you take it upon yourself to create your own drama. This is of course going to lead to problems for you. Maybe if you avoided drama, like most people do, you’re life wouldn’t be so shit (of course I’m quoting you here, you’re life isn’t that bad).

You claim you’re at a stage of your life where you need to discover ‘who’ you are. I know you very well, I have a decent understanding of your life (although I get the feeling you lied about most of it) but I can’t tell you ‘who’ you are. I am at liberty to tell you ‘what’ you are though. I won’t though; I’m trying to stop swearing. I’m sure if you take a glance into a mirror and see your make-up covered face, the skimpy clothes that you wear and the crusty seamen in the corner of your mouth, you’ll realise what you are. As for ‘who’ you are, I get the feeling that you’ll never discover that.

I’ll wrap this letter up now, seeing as it’s getting quite long, I know you’re only used to reading the cooking directions on the back of microwave meal boxes, which compared to this are quite simple. So I wish you all the luck for the future, you’re going to need it. Peace.

Fuck the Friend-Zone

How did it happen? I can’t even remember! I liked her, she liked me, then BAM; FRIEND-ZONE!!

The motherfucking friend-zone, the worst place for any man to end up. I’d rather be in Joseph Fritzl’s sex dungeon than the friend-zone. Since I’ve entered the friend-zone, Palestinians have been campaigning for my release; “Free Ben (from the Friend-Zone)”. That’s how fucking bad the friend-zone is.

And the major problem is the friend-zone is much like quick sand, once you’re in, you’re not getting out, in fact it will probably kill you.

Like any male before me that has entered the friend-zone, one single thought entered my head. Let me explain the scenario. I liked this girl. I had a feeling that she liked me. We flirted slightly. But when I finally came around to telling her how I felt about her say told me she only sees me as a friend. And then that thought entered my head; “Well fuck you, I don’t want to be your friend.” Because that is the instant thought everyman has once his is unwilling entered into the friend-zone. Which makes the whole term “friend-zone” quite irrelevant. It may as well be called the “there was a possibility that we’d possibly have something going on but you took too long to make a move so now I just want to be your friend even though once you find this out you not want anything to do with me-zone”, but I suppose that’s quite a mouthful.

For as long as the friend-zone has been in existence there have always been myths that a few lucky men have made it out of there, much like Alcatraz! But I’m here to piss you on your strawberries, because no man has ever made it out of the friend-zone. And despite the movie ‘The Rock’, nobody ever made it out of Alcatraz either.

So what options do you have in the friend-zone? Quite simply none. If you are in the friend-zone, I feel for you, I really do. But you should learn from your mistakes. Don’t ever let it happen again. Next time grab the bull by its horns, actually, scratch that, that metaphor is too masculine when talking about pulling a woman! So instead; Next time grab the cow by its udders and hold on for dear life.

The Most Wasted I Have Got #3

Welcome again to a true life story of me getting too wrecked. Now this story took place when I was the young tender age of 18. Back then I was extremely naïve and stupid.

This story starts with me and two close friends of mine going shopping after school. Me, Tom and Will had finished school early and decided to go to Mansfield (the town next to my hometown) to spend some money seeing as it was pay day for me and Will. After having a wonder around a few shops we decided to head to the pub for a drink. Of course over all the years I’ve known Tom there’s one thing that stands out the most, when Thomas says; “Shall we go have a drink?”, what he actually means is; ‘Let’s getting fucking hammered’. And surprisingly one drink turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into four and so on. We had been out so long that the pub we were in had changed from a pub to a club. It was also a Thursday night, and Thursday nights in Mansfield is student night. We’d been talking to this random guy and had a few drinks with him. Then it got the point that Will and Tom had decided to leave and go home, this is where I made my first mistake by not going with them. So they left and Will had told me to look after his watch that he had lent me. It was a Rolex … but it was fake, of course, he wouldn’t leave me with his real one, something to do with me being a thieving little shit.

As I’ve stated my first mistake was not leaving with Tom and Will, my second mistake was running off my mouth that I’d been paid to a random person I’d just met. So I hung out with this dude for a while and had a few more drinks. Now this is where it gets a little ‘fuzzy’ for me. What I can remember is downing some shots then after that all I remember is being dragged down some stairs by two bouncers while I tried to fight them off some I could get my bag (like I said, I’d just come school). Then I was thrown at the club onto the street. Here is where I made the third mistake of the night by entering the next pub. I bought myself a drink and sat down; I was quickly interrupted by the bouncers of that pub and told that I had to leave once I finished my drink. At least they were nicer than the bouncers in the last pub. Although they wouldn’t even let me sit down because I was falling asleep. So I finished my drink and finally made the decision to go home.

What I remember from here is not much. I remember leaving the pub and walking across Mansfield market. After that I remember getting off the bus in Sutton (my hometown). After that I remember finding myself on my way home. But for some reason I wasn’t walking the usual way, I was going a longer way. I have no idea why. Then the last thing I remember of the night is falling flat on my face. As I lay face down on the cold pavement I noticed I’d smashed Will’s watch on the concrete. I climbed to my feet and told myself I had to get home, I was only about 10 to 15 minutes away.

The rest of this story is made up from what my mother told me. According to my mother I woke her up at gone 1.00am trying to unlock the front door. I then proceed to try and make myself a cup of tea. My mum took over and told me to go upstairs and she’d bring my drink to me. My mum helped me get upstairs, and then she returned to the kitchen to make my tea. Then for some unknown reason I went back downstairs to make the tea myself and my mum had to take me upstairs again.

I woke up the next morning with a massive headache and my brother telling me that my tea was on the floor. As it turns out I’d fell asleep as soon as my mother had bought me my tea.

The story doesn’t stop there, let’s just rewind to me falling over and breaking Will’s watch. The next day when I looked at it the time read 11.30pm. From this I can conclude that I fell over at 11.30pm. And if you have been paying attention I said the point I fell over at was about 15 minutes away from my house. So from the point of falling to my front door, it took me one and a half hours. I have no idea what happened in this time, which is extremely worrying.

The moral of this story is never go for a drink with Tom. And if you do, leave when he does. Also don’t talk to strangers in a bar because I suspect that this guy spiked me in an attempted to rob me later, seeing as I’d been chatting about how I’d been paid. Also if you get thrown (and I mean thrown – catching air and everything) out of a pub you should probably call it a night.

Boycotting Xmas

I have come to a decision this year that I am boycotting Christmas. Now there are many reasons behind me deciding on this matter. But let me first defend myself! Why do I have to defend myself? Well, avid reader, I have come under attack from the few people I hold dearest to me; my family and friends. I know this last sentence contradicts what you thought about me, but the fact is I do actually know who my family are and I do have friends. I know this comes as a shock to many, who, for some reason, think I’m so kind of antisocial orphan, left to fend for himself with no education or social skills. But I do have a (limited) education. But I’m getting off point here. Anyway, my family and friends don’t support me in my one man mission to boycott Christmas. “But why do they oppose you, Great One?” is what you are thinking. And the answer is; because they won’t be receiving gifts this year. As it turns out both my family and friends are extremely materialistic. That fact came as a shock to me. How could I have possibly got to this point in my life, being as great as I am, when all this time I have amerced myself with such people? Anyway I’m sure these people will realise their mistakes and welcome me back into their circles soon enough.

I will now explain why I am boycotting Christmas. I’ve come to notice that Christmas; the celebration of Jesus being born, is no longer a Christian holiday. Face it; Christmas is celebrated by Christians, atheists, agnostics and even Jews, Muslims, Sikhs and Buddhists. So Christmas is no longer a Christian holiday, instead it’s a Capitalist holiday. I’m willing to bet you will see more ‘Santa’s’ this year than ‘Baby Jesus’’. It is big companies that truly profit off the Christmas season. So instead of finding myself in debt from buying expensive gifts that I can’t really afford I’m not going to do anything.

I do like the idea of a day in which family and friends show how much they love each other. But personally, I think materialism is not the best way to show it. It is about time we banded together and come up with a new way to show our love for each other. Some type of way that doesn’t leave us in debt.

There are many pros of boycotting Christmas, in my opinion. This year I don’t have to spend my time in busy shops trying to find gifts for people, only getting stressed out trying to think of what people will like and fighting with other customers over products. This will leave me more time to do more important things like study or actually spend time with my loved ones. I not have to spend time wrapping gifts with paper that is only going to get thrown in the bin. Think about it, wrapping paper is possibly the most idiotic product to buy ever; it’s destined for the bin. You may as well take the money you are going to spend on wrapping paper and put it straight in the bin, cut out the middle man (wrapping paper). If I’m not buying people gifts, they aren’t buying any for me, so I not have to pretend that I like a gift when I don’t. I’m a terrible actor and no matter how hard a try to muster up an “I love it”, it’s clear that I don’t love it, which only makes the buyer miserable, which I hate.

So, that’s my argument for boycotting Christmas. No matter how you view the holiday, either Christian or Capitalist it has lost it tradition and has turned into the worst time of the year. Robberies and suicides always go up at this time of the year, and I’m sure the myth of Jesus wouldn’t support this. So join me and boycott Christmas.

Letter to God

Dear ‘God’,
Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to log on to the greatest Blog on the internet. I understand that it must be hard to find time to read this, seeing as you’re always up to something and you’re nonexistent. I just thought I’d write to you seeing as we haven’t spoke in some years. I know we’ve lost touch; of course this isn’t your fault. I place the blame directly on my shoulders, but also some blame lies with science and Richard Dawkins (did you read his book?).

Just recently I’ve been wondering if you could possibly do some of those miracles that I heard so much about at school. The world seems to be quite fucked up at the minute and I blame you. Religious people seem to have gone crazy, is it possible that you could smite them all? If you don’t I will simply take that as a sign that you don’t exist and I will take it upon myself to rid the world of religion. Which is a big task, but I’m willing to kill a few thousand people every other Sunday … I don’t have Church to go to or anything else to do, so I may as well.

I’ve been thinking of starting my own religion. That’s the main reason I’m writing this. I wanted a few tips. I know it’s going to be hard to live up to the standards that you set, I mean I can’t make a world or humans (I’m firing blanks). Well I can’t just yet, but you never know what scientists will come up with next. Sorry, I mentioned scientists; I forgot you don’t like them much, because of their logical thinking and theories on Natural Selection! But to be fair, if you didn’t want us to figure out you didn’t exist you shouldn’t have made us so clever. Maybe if you made every human with limited thinking abilities it would be a better world. A world filled with Redneck-American types. In which we all followed our lives to a really old book, which some other Redneck-American types wrote a long time ago. But then again, that book would never have been written, because Redneck-American types can’t write, so I suppose there’s a method to your madness! You see, these are the things I’m over looking! So how should I start up my religion?

The basic idea for my religion is that there is no God, crazy I know. Well there’s no God living in Heaven, in fact there is no Heaven or Hell. The only type of deity is the one inside us all. I’m going to teach my followers that our religion doesn’t want war with people because what they believe is wrong, something you should mention to your followers. Also in my religion, there will be nothing to worship. Followers not have to go to a certain building at any point. They don’t need to do anything apart from treat each other and everyone else with respect and try to do good things. This is what religion should be like. There is no need to dedicate yourself to your belief so much. People should dedicate themselves to themselves and each other, that is how progression is truly made.

Yours sincerely, Ben Broughton

Where's my bloody BEARD???

Hello my loyal followers, I’m glad to have you all back. Today’s Blog is all about me and my feeble attempt to grow a beard.

Now, I think beards are cool, really cool. But there’s one problem, I can’t fucking grow one. All I get is pathetic bum fluff on my chin, top lip and stupid little hairs on my cheeks. It’s as if I’ve gone down on a hairy obese woman, she’s cum so hard that her pubes have been splattered across my face. Which is not a good look. But what is this need I have for a beard? I think it has something to do with one of the most important people to have ever walked the Earth. He’s probably the most famous person to ever live; he’s a religious character and even has followers, no not Jesus! I’m talking of Adam French. Frenchie (as he’s known to his friends and enemies alike) has one of the greatest beards ever, and I think all the knowledge he possesses is due to his beard like Samson. Frenchie’s beard is so good that he hasn’t had any Christmas presents since he grew it because Santa Clause is jealous of him and his fantastic beard.

I’m all out of ideas to grow a beard. I was told at a young age that once I hit puberty my body would change; I’d grow body hair, I’d get taller, my penis would get bigger and I’d develop facial hair. I’m now 22 and in the last ten years or so, I’ve grown taller and I have some body hair, but that’s it! I’ve tired steroids, thinking they’d help my beard grow, but sadly they just made my penis shrink even smaller. I’ve tried praying to fictional Gods, but still nothing. My last idea (which I’m not to sure about) is possibly tattooing a beard on my face. This kills two birds with one stone; I want a beard and I want a tattoo.

If anyone else has any suggestions, please leave a comment. Thanks.

Virus Rap