In the fridge?!
So, I was making myself a good old cup of English tea (as I do) and I opened the fridge to find the milk resting on one of the shelves. Confused I looked at the shelf where it is usually kept (Y'know, upright.) and noticed orange juice. Okay, that's where it's best to keep juice, refrigerated. Nice and cold to cure the quench of thirst. I, hastily, opened the fridge door a little wider to check if their was anything else. Water filteration jug. Fair enough, I like my water with only half of the shit they put into it. Nice and cool and chemically safe.
Then I noticed it.
A little spec of 'red' caught the side of my right eye. Oh my god... it can't... it isn't possible... oh my fucking god, it is!
Ketchup. Some stupid fuck had put Tomato Ketchup in the fucking fridge. Why the hell for?! So I can give myself a brainfreeze when I make myself a fucking ketchup sandwich?! I like my ketchup to be at a nice, moderate temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. Just so I can taste that little chill as I eat my chips. That's it! I do not condone my teeth being wrenched from their sockets by some rectal terrorist dentist because I have a toothache cause by refridgerated ketchup! I mean really, what the hell?
By rule of thumb, ketchup should be kept in a cupboard! It says quite clearly on the label 'Store in a cool, dry place.' what is so fucking 'cool' about the fridge?! It keeps food cold not cool. Come on, people, why? Just why would my parents put the ketchup in the fridge? I was horrified when I saw this act of terrorism! I had a damn good mind to phone the FBI but then I was like "lol english derr" and started crying. So what did I do? I phoned the CIA. Then I was like "o shit english nub" and I started crying some more. I phoned the SAS and they killed my cat. Were they content with that? Hell no! You know what those bastards did? I'll tell you.
They put my fucking Ketchup back in the fridge!
Wankstains!
Being the cocky bastard I am, I grabbed the ketchup bottle from the fridge and threw it in the cupboard while screaming for some hex I learnt when I journeyed into the land of Azeroth (Damn good holiday, I reccomend going anybody to go to Azeroth.). What did the fuckers do then? They shot me in the fucking leg. Naturally by this time I was pissed. I grabbed the head points knife, skinned my cat and made a bandage out of it. I shouted "How's that for ingenuity, bitch?". He shot me in the other leg and I only had one cat. I don't have a bandage for it. What fuckers.
Now they knew I was fully immobilized, they put the ketchup in the fridge! Again! So I commando crawl'd into the kitchen, pulled myself up and put the ketchup in the cupboard (this took me about half an hour, by the way) and laughed at the point guy. Now, I know the SAS are the elite fighting squad of the British army. Possibly one of the best counter-terrorist teams in the world. However, what he did to me nobody should ever have to endure.
He knocked me down and inserted a fucking Flashbang grenade into my colon. Immediately after doing this, he replaced the ketchup with salad cream, and put the ketchup in the fridge. I knew these things had a thirty second timer, so I had to be straining for a good twenty seconds to get it out and throw it out the window in order to give my owl a heart attack. Five seconds later BOOM! Guess it was the Fragmentation grenades which have the thirty second timer. So here I am, lying on the kitchen floor, my rectum hanging on the door handle and two fucking bulletholes in my thighs, one is neatly bandaged with cat skin, the other is bleeding freely. I was getting pretty drowsy around this time.
I shrugged it off, y'know, all manly-like. And gave that guy a beautiful impression of Goatse. Fucking owned, I said. "No, we're going to fucking own you!" the elite squadron of SAS troops said. By this time the whole army had came to watch, my friend Birtles was their. He enjoyed it (He was the guy who stuck his fingers in his arse because somebody told him it was a better wank. I'll tell you more at another point) so much, he ejaculated four times.
I laughed at his idea of an 'ownage' and proudly said "I play CounterStrike on a regular basis and other FPS games. How can a mere mortal own a Fragmaster such as myself?". He recoiled in feigned fear... then he repositioned and said "Eight years of counter-terrorist training.". "Oh shit." thought I. He was right. Eight years of counter-terrorist training does come in handy. Even though his goggles did nothing as my Goatse had temporarily blinded him, he had one last trick up his sleeve. Ever heard of a rectal examination? Ever heard of a rectal examination with an SA-80 as the probe? Neither did I until today.
Anyways, I knew I had to think of a plan to counter is 1337ness. The ketchup was getting colder and colder by the second. What could I do? "I know! I'll... that won't work... to hell with it!" and with that I kicked that bastard in the balls. I proceeded to tell the rest of the army, who was now neatly crammed into my parents humble 2 bedroomed house (three if you count the bathroom), that I would give the same treatment to them if they came any closer. The house emptied in a second. I figured by now the ketchup would be rather cold. So you wanna know what I did? I'll fucking tell you.
I stripped the lone SAS soldier completely naked and inserted a flashbang into his rectum. I ran like a bitch (but fell over pretty fast, I forgot about the bullet wounds and my blinded and severely deafened anus) and it exploded. I heard him say "Fuck... that's gonna leave a mark.", oh you smarmy little bastard. I'll show you what'll leave a fucking mark. I got my dads jackhammer, right? And I fashioned a novelty dildo out of about eight sandwich bags filled with that creamy insulation mixture and attached it to the jackhammer, and waited for it to set.
This was gonna be fun.
I created a little 'pedastal' of sorts for the jackhammer to sit on. I figured the insulation would be nicely set by now and sat the jackhammer on the pedastal. Right where his gaping anus was. Turns out I chose the wrong SAS soldier to fuck with. He was gay. Bollocks. This sucks... I got shot twice in the leg, my cat is wrapped around my leg (he prevented half of my death by giving his life. Jess, I salute you! *tear*) and and this fucking 'elite soldier' is having a fucking orgasm and ejaculating on my parents kitchen floor! I was not amused!
To make matters worse, my cat walked into the kitchen and started meowing for some biscuits. Being the nice guy I am, I gave him some. Then it hit me... the cat is fucking dead! How the hell can I be giving him biscuits if he's dead?! I noticed a little needle in the cats side. Oh shit... oh fucking shit. I skinned my own cat to save my life and he isn't even dead. Fuck, I'm gonna get grounded for this... next thing I knew the 'elite warriors' head exploded. Oh great, now I've got to clean his brains and my anus off the fucking walls. This is wonderful. I dragged the bitch outside and threw him in the owls cage. I've still got the gun and it's kind of bloody but I think I can restore it to its former glory. I stitched my cats skin back on using toenail clippings and thread.
So instead of going to hospital or hiring a cleaner, I'm sitting here writing in my blog telling all of you fucks that my anus is bleeding on my chair and my I'm slowly passing out because of blood loss. I hope you appreciate this, you cunts.
Then I noticed it.
A little spec of 'red' caught the side of my right eye. Oh my god... it can't... it isn't possible... oh my fucking god, it is!
Ketchup. Some stupid fuck had put Tomato Ketchup in the fucking fridge. Why the hell for?! So I can give myself a brainfreeze when I make myself a fucking ketchup sandwich?! I like my ketchup to be at a nice, moderate temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. Just so I can taste that little chill as I eat my chips. That's it! I do not condone my teeth being wrenched from their sockets by some rectal terrorist dentist because I have a toothache cause by refridgerated ketchup! I mean really, what the hell?
By rule of thumb, ketchup should be kept in a cupboard! It says quite clearly on the label 'Store in a cool, dry place.' what is so fucking 'cool' about the fridge?! It keeps food cold not cool. Come on, people, why? Just why would my parents put the ketchup in the fridge? I was horrified when I saw this act of terrorism! I had a damn good mind to phone the FBI but then I was like "lol english derr" and started crying. So what did I do? I phoned the CIA. Then I was like "o shit english nub" and I started crying some more. I phoned the SAS and they killed my cat. Were they content with that? Hell no! You know what those bastards did? I'll tell you.
They put my fucking Ketchup back in the fridge!
Wankstains!
Being the cocky bastard I am, I grabbed the ketchup bottle from the fridge and threw it in the cupboard while screaming for some hex I learnt when I journeyed into the land of Azeroth (Damn good holiday, I reccomend going anybody to go to Azeroth.). What did the fuckers do then? They shot me in the fucking leg. Naturally by this time I was pissed. I grabbed the head points knife, skinned my cat and made a bandage out of it. I shouted "How's that for ingenuity, bitch?". He shot me in the other leg and I only had one cat. I don't have a bandage for it. What fuckers.
Now they knew I was fully immobilized, they put the ketchup in the fridge! Again! So I commando crawl'd into the kitchen, pulled myself up and put the ketchup in the cupboard (this took me about half an hour, by the way) and laughed at the point guy. Now, I know the SAS are the elite fighting squad of the British army. Possibly one of the best counter-terrorist teams in the world. However, what he did to me nobody should ever have to endure.
He knocked me down and inserted a fucking Flashbang grenade into my colon. Immediately after doing this, he replaced the ketchup with salad cream, and put the ketchup in the fridge. I knew these things had a thirty second timer, so I had to be straining for a good twenty seconds to get it out and throw it out the window in order to give my owl a heart attack. Five seconds later BOOM! Guess it was the Fragmentation grenades which have the thirty second timer. So here I am, lying on the kitchen floor, my rectum hanging on the door handle and two fucking bulletholes in my thighs, one is neatly bandaged with cat skin, the other is bleeding freely. I was getting pretty drowsy around this time.
I shrugged it off, y'know, all manly-like. And gave that guy a beautiful impression of Goatse. Fucking owned, I said. "No, we're going to fucking own you!" the elite squadron of SAS troops said. By this time the whole army had came to watch, my friend Birtles was their. He enjoyed it (He was the guy who stuck his fingers in his arse because somebody told him it was a better wank. I'll tell you more at another point) so much, he ejaculated four times.
I laughed at his idea of an 'ownage' and proudly said "I play CounterStrike on a regular basis and other FPS games. How can a mere mortal own a Fragmaster such as myself?". He recoiled in feigned fear... then he repositioned and said "Eight years of counter-terrorist training.". "Oh shit." thought I. He was right. Eight years of counter-terrorist training does come in handy. Even though his goggles did nothing as my Goatse had temporarily blinded him, he had one last trick up his sleeve. Ever heard of a rectal examination? Ever heard of a rectal examination with an SA-80 as the probe? Neither did I until today.
Anyways, I knew I had to think of a plan to counter is 1337ness. The ketchup was getting colder and colder by the second. What could I do? "I know! I'll... that won't work... to hell with it!" and with that I kicked that bastard in the balls. I proceeded to tell the rest of the army, who was now neatly crammed into my parents humble 2 bedroomed house (three if you count the bathroom), that I would give the same treatment to them if they came any closer. The house emptied in a second. I figured by now the ketchup would be rather cold. So you wanna know what I did? I'll fucking tell you.
I stripped the lone SAS soldier completely naked and inserted a flashbang into his rectum. I ran like a bitch (but fell over pretty fast, I forgot about the bullet wounds and my blinded and severely deafened anus) and it exploded. I heard him say "Fuck... that's gonna leave a mark.", oh you smarmy little bastard. I'll show you what'll leave a fucking mark. I got my dads jackhammer, right? And I fashioned a novelty dildo out of about eight sandwich bags filled with that creamy insulation mixture and attached it to the jackhammer, and waited for it to set.
This was gonna be fun.
I created a little 'pedastal' of sorts for the jackhammer to sit on. I figured the insulation would be nicely set by now and sat the jackhammer on the pedastal. Right where his gaping anus was. Turns out I chose the wrong SAS soldier to fuck with. He was gay. Bollocks. This sucks... I got shot twice in the leg, my cat is wrapped around my leg (he prevented half of my death by giving his life. Jess, I salute you! *tear*) and and this fucking 'elite soldier' is having a fucking orgasm and ejaculating on my parents kitchen floor! I was not amused!
To make matters worse, my cat walked into the kitchen and started meowing for some biscuits. Being the nice guy I am, I gave him some. Then it hit me... the cat is fucking dead! How the hell can I be giving him biscuits if he's dead?! I noticed a little needle in the cats side. Oh shit... oh fucking shit. I skinned my own cat to save my life and he isn't even dead. Fuck, I'm gonna get grounded for this... next thing I knew the 'elite warriors' head exploded. Oh great, now I've got to clean his brains and my anus off the fucking walls. This is wonderful. I dragged the bitch outside and threw him in the owls cage. I've still got the gun and it's kind of bloody but I think I can restore it to its former glory. I stitched my cats skin back on using toenail clippings and thread.
So instead of going to hospital or hiring a cleaner, I'm sitting here writing in my blog telling all of you fucks that my anus is bleeding on my chair and my I'm slowly passing out because of blood loss. I hope you appreciate this, you cunts.
posted by Thump at 3:04 am
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