I've been too sapped of energy to write to you sad fuckers for a while.....it is as hot as a fucking bread oven here and I'm crisping over....so sitting on this fucking thing tapping on a bleedin' keyboard just ain't a goer, know wot I mean cunts?
That said....here I am with more boring crap to deaden your day.....Enjoy!
A little aside for you analytical fuckers (if they're are any....if there aren't then you won't have any fucking clue what I'm blabbing about so you might as well fuck off to the next paragraph NOW, you fucking dumbell) - I don't know what it is about irony exactly that makes it just so ..........so ........... fucking ironic, but you gotta love it, dontcha ?
Anyway, back in the Land of Boredom it's been so fucking boring here the only break from tedium comes first thing in the morning when I guess whether the fucking thermometer will reach 40 or 41 degrees. After that it's all fucking downhill ......... so I just hide in the bloody fridge all day sheltering behind a six-pack. ......of beer, not muscles, ya cunt!
Well .........at first that's true ....because physically speaking the six-pack isn't a constant entity and it changes magically when it becomes a five-pack, a four-pack and so on until its' a fucking zero-pack, which on these hot days happens rather quickly. And me, being a rather scientific boffin fucking-brainbox-type (as I'm you've caught onto by now) thought that there must a theory to explain this, rather like Einstein came up with his Theory of Relativity which, for all you fucking dunces out there, explains beautifully how your relatives can piss you off relative to the degree or not of the relatedness they do or do not have to you.
Look it up, ya cunts!
So mine.....brace yourselves......is called Bored Shitless's Theory of Beerativity.
It works like this:
Bd = (RTD)2
Where B = the number of six-packs you have in the fridge
d = is the relative density of the beer, or if you don’t know that just put in how fucking strong or pissy it is
R = is the degree of relatedness you have to the relative or mate you happen you to be boozing with. * **
T = the degree of ones’ thirst.
Please note it is vital that the degree of ones thirst be gauged correctly if you don’t want to fuck things up totally. DO NOT…. I repeat….. DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES HAVE A QUICK COUPLE BEFORE GAUGING THE DEGREE OF YOUR THIRST. IT WILL AFFECT YOUR FINAL RESULT.
And D = is the degree of Drunkenness you wish to obtain on the day in question. The figure is based on a sliding scale between 1 and 10, with ‘1’ being just a little bit fucking tipsy (which I had to include for any fucking girls that might be reading this and saying to themselves “well, I don‘t know what that fucking bloke is on about! I‘ve never been drunk in my fucking life!” Ya right, you lying tarts!) and ‘10' being absolutely fucking, can’t stand up, can’t even fucking piss, bladdered. You know, Friday night drunk!
For interests’ sake …. I’m usually somewhere between an '8 and a 9’. On a normal day.
and finally,
2 = well, what else would it equal? 2 of course, ya cunt!
I put that in just in case the other figures were a bit out and the number that came out was insupportably fucking low, like 10 or 15 or something.
* If you drink by yourself a lot and not with other people, like I do, then you have to factor in a fucking Sadness coefficient which is equal to the number of days you drank alone in the last month, divided by the number of months you’ve been a sad old cunt. Once you’ve got that number you need to multiply it by R coefficient of the last person you got fucking trolleyed with and you get a much more accurate figure.
** If you want to try this at home yourself you can send $4.99 to me any fucking way you like, cos I’ll take it any fucking way it comes, and I’ll send YOU back by post a copy of my tables where you can obtain the correct coefficient factor, R, for the pisshead YOU tend to drink with most often.
The answer you get at the end is equal to the number of cans you need to drink that day in order to achieve your desired aim of Pissed-ness.
Okay? ....... now you see why I couldn't have a low number!
Hah! Not as dumb as I fucking write, eh?
So, my number for today is......... hang on a mo, ya fucking impatient cunt, I'm getting there! .......... is 42. A nice round number, .......well, maybe not round exactly, ........but fucking chubby to the say the least, my fucking scientific blog reader!
Anyway, that's enough of that crap.
Here's some more fucking shite photos.
Here's some beer desperate to get into my fridge. Look at the little fuckers, all standing to attention!
May Every Beer Do Its' Duty!!
And here's some trophy ring pulls from beer cans that have done their duty with flying fucking colours and have gone to the great piss pot in the sky!
And here's me having a fag after another session of slaughtering beer soldiers. Another platoon bits the dust!
This was fucking lovely when I first got it. Don't know what it was.
And another thirsty fucker! I watered them both once or twice when I got them. Then I got bored and they got ......well, dead really! I don't waste money on things like this any more. I realised one day how many beers I could have got with the money.
Here's the tree ......also dead ....that I piss up in the garden.
And this, my fucking reader, is a bastard scorpion that was in my bloody shower. The cunt didn't even ask if he could use my fucking shampoo! So I pissed on him then hit him with the hammer. Twice.
And here he lies .......a dead fucking scorpion. The cunt!
See you soon fuckers.
