Print this article Sun, 13 Jan 2008 16:50:00 +0100
Occasionally in my travels I stumble across some information that can potentially change the life of fellow drug pigs out there... recently I came across a product that has so proved its worthiness amongst other tools in my meth-kit, that I just had to spread the news.
Sun, 02 Dec 2007 04:30:00 +0100
Alright I'm well aware that this blog is full of empty promises... Posts that never see past the Part 1... despite my best intentions...
But this e-book thang will keep on kicking... it's been a while since the first installment but since I'm in Melbourne for the day (forgot my cd's) and all the e-books are saved onto my computer down here... I figure I'll hit youse with the next bunch of Pee Dee Effs that'll make the homies say "ho" and the girlies wanna scream...
Click any of the following titles to expand a quick description and a download link...
But this e-book thang will keep on kicking... it's been a while since the first installment but since I'm in Melbourne for the day (forgot my cd's) and all the e-books are saved onto my computer down here... I figure I'll hit youse with the next bunch of Pee Dee Effs that'll make the homies say "ho" and the girlies wanna scream...
Click any of the following titles to expand a quick description and a download link...
Hitman
Confessions of an Economic Hitman
In line with the whole hitman theme... here's a book I actually paid for recently... and despite how uncomfortable it was to have that librarians penis in my mouth, it was well worth it. I thoroughly enjoyed this true story of some bloke who assisted the corporate giants in gang raping 3rd world countries for their natural resources and ultimately enslaving them to U.S. economic and military will.
Download!
The Gale Encyclopedia of the Unusual & Unexplained
I cannot tell you the amount of times I've been locked inside a meat fridge with nothing but my wit and my dick in hand... boy I wish I'd found this book earlier
Download!
Sat, 01 Dec 2007 20:21:00 +0100
Well versed from birth with words by tongues decieving
higher status, higher earnings equal higher states of being
We're united by this silent, lonely goal... it binds us
but within this potent motive is an enzyme that divides us
A desired kind of virtue... as scarce as is essential
a coveted enlightenment that defines ones true potential
You possess in solidarity this commodity... this rarity
disparaged by majorities for they lust to spawn such qualities
You threaten their position inside circles they are within
perturbed by your existence the primal urge in them has risen
Blinded by their instincts... the core of savage ways
no more than rabid delinquents... the pecking order is in play
They have no other choice but to pull you down below them
they have no other use but a stepping stool... a podium
They don't have what inspires me... they lack the blooming petals
they don't have what it takes.... and that's what makes you special
higher status, higher earnings equal higher states of being
We're united by this silent, lonely goal... it binds us
but within this potent motive is an enzyme that divides us
A desired kind of virtue... as scarce as is essential
a coveted enlightenment that defines ones true potential
You possess in solidarity this commodity... this rarity
disparaged by majorities for they lust to spawn such qualities
You threaten their position inside circles they are within
perturbed by your existence the primal urge in them has risen
Blinded by their instincts... the core of savage ways
no more than rabid delinquents... the pecking order is in play
They have no other choice but to pull you down below them
they have no other use but a stepping stool... a podium
They don't have what inspires me... they lack the blooming petals
they don't have what it takes.... and that's what makes you special
Tue, 27 Nov 2007 06:19:00 +0100
I'm sitting adjacent to Central Station in a park favoured by hobos, tourist couples and junkies.
To my left is a scene ripped straight from the Limewire porn archives... Two blonde girls, judging by the Scanian cross on their bags they're Swedish, lying on the grass... and making out.
It'd be pretty hot if it weren't for the homeless bloke sitting to the right of me, who's not making much of an effort to conceal his rapid hand movements underneath his worn sleeping bag. His sinister grunts, coupled with the squarks from fighting seagulls lay an apt soundtrack to the scene.
It had crossed my mind to tell him to cut it out, but it occurs to me that he probably doesn't get laid very often and similarly doesn't have access to an internet connection, so this is probably the best thing that has happened to him since the last time they forgot to stamp "Not for alcohol purchases" on his Coles cash vouchers at the Welfare Office.
So instead I've shifted far enough away that I can no longer taste his booze soaked breath.
I've been here not but 20 minutes and yet I've been offered flyers about the "great" Rob L. Hubbard twice... by the same person. It's mildy bearable only because she's been strategically groomed to perform a suitable role within the company's Public Relations Department and therefor is cute enough that if I were single, I'd probably feign interest long enough to learn the rule on sexual interaction within the Scientologist community... But since I have a girl, I plan to hurl this pile of dog shit that I've relocated next to if she comes within 5 feet of me again.
I'm distracted by an arguement that a couple of junkies, no older than myself, are having.
Apparently those shards make him too paranoid yet all that smack has made her a "lying, cheating cunt." His bellowing voice is an innacurate representation of his skin-&-bone ice head physique.
She storms off leaving her two kids, Jaden and Tiara, in her wake.
I can't help but notice the cruel irony behind a heroin addicted mother naming her child Tiara... like a constant reminder of a life that mum never had and a premonition of every daughter's dream that, at least in this case, remains out of reach... and within this paradox lies the truth of Sydney.
A picturesque harbour, afloat with shopping trolleys and jellyfish.
Cultural diversity, pulsing with xenophobic resentment.
Rats fighting for food scraps beneath a train platform that is cloaked with expensive business suits...
It's filthy despite the scrupulous rinsing... I dig it... we both do.
We may hang 'round for a while longer, thanks undeniably to some divine intervention from back home...
Yesterday I had a beer in a silent toast to dad and downed all that Miss X couldn't... because the last thing he'd want to see, is half a scooner go down the sink.
To my left is a scene ripped straight from the Limewire porn archives... Two blonde girls, judging by the Scanian cross on their bags they're Swedish, lying on the grass... and making out.
It'd be pretty hot if it weren't for the homeless bloke sitting to the right of me, who's not making much of an effort to conceal his rapid hand movements underneath his worn sleeping bag. His sinister grunts, coupled with the squarks from fighting seagulls lay an apt soundtrack to the scene.
It had crossed my mind to tell him to cut it out, but it occurs to me that he probably doesn't get laid very often and similarly doesn't have access to an internet connection, so this is probably the best thing that has happened to him since the last time they forgot to stamp "Not for alcohol purchases" on his Coles cash vouchers at the Welfare Office.
So instead I've shifted far enough away that I can no longer taste his booze soaked breath.
I've been here not but 20 minutes and yet I've been offered flyers about the "great" Rob L. Hubbard twice... by the same person. It's mildy bearable only because she's been strategically groomed to perform a suitable role within the company's Public Relations Department and therefor is cute enough that if I were single, I'd probably feign interest long enough to learn the rule on sexual interaction within the Scientologist community... But since I have a girl, I plan to hurl this pile of dog shit that I've relocated next to if she comes within 5 feet of me again.
I'm distracted by an arguement that a couple of junkies, no older than myself, are having.
Apparently those shards make him too paranoid yet all that smack has made her a "lying, cheating cunt." His bellowing voice is an innacurate representation of his skin-&-bone ice head physique.
She storms off leaving her two kids, Jaden and Tiara, in her wake.
I can't help but notice the cruel irony behind a heroin addicted mother naming her child Tiara... like a constant reminder of a life that mum never had and a premonition of every daughter's dream that, at least in this case, remains out of reach... and within this paradox lies the truth of Sydney.
A picturesque harbour, afloat with shopping trolleys and jellyfish.
Cultural diversity, pulsing with xenophobic resentment.
Rats fighting for food scraps beneath a train platform that is cloaked with expensive business suits...
It's filthy despite the scrupulous rinsing... I dig it... we both do.
We may hang 'round for a while longer, thanks undeniably to some divine intervention from back home...
Yesterday I had a beer in a silent toast to dad and downed all that Miss X couldn't... because the last thing he'd want to see, is half a scooner go down the sink.
Wed, 21 Nov 2007 06:44:00 +0100
Sir, yes sir!!!
well at least this bloke is...
well at least this bloke is...
How fuckin awesome is that?
Mon, 19 Nov 2007 06:24:00 +0100
Just dropping a link quickly to a site with some pretty dope/fucking weird film clips..... be peeping it!
Sat, 17 Nov 2007 03:31:00 +0100
Asalamaleka brothers!
What you are about to read is a short essay on the reasons why I decided against throwing my money away on a particular product/service... and some of the disturbing evidence I uncovered throughout my investigations.
Product/Service: The Gold Coast Girls
Part I - The Introduction
First and foremost... for those of you who aren't aware of what The Gold Coast Girls are, here's a brief description taken directly from their website...
4 hot chicks in an apartment on the Gold Coast -- With cameras everywhere!!!
What you are about to read is a short essay on the reasons why I decided against throwing my money away on a particular product/service... and some of the disturbing evidence I uncovered throughout my investigations.
Product/Service: The Gold Coast Girls
Part I - The Introduction
First and foremost... for those of you who aren't aware of what The Gold Coast Girls are, here's a brief description taken directly from their website...
4 hot chicks in an apartment on the Gold Coast -- With cameras everywhere!!!
I bet you're thinking to yourself... "What's wrong with that?... how could you possibly have beef with such an obviously credible sales pitch... what are you a faggot, Rhetoric?... you wanna fuckin get stabbed cunt???"
To which I must beg you spare my life for a couple minutes more... so you may learn what I've learnt.
The idea behind this product/service is the consumer will pay approximately $1.50 per day, to recieve streaming video and photos on their mobile phone... Am I the only one that finds it disturbing that it costs $1 a day to feed and clothe a starving child... yet there are probably more people stuffing that childs health and well being into the undersized, cum drenched bras of four sluts in QLD in hopes of recieving yet another video of them dry humping each other?
What I find even more perplexing about such a service is that, assuming the video and photos will be used as motivation for masturbation... I cannot see how its physically possible to pleasure ones self to a mobile phone...
I mean... I have a 19 inch monitor and Bitcomet... do I really need to bother trying to hit the zoom button on my phone keypad so I can hopefully see the freckles on some dolled up D-Grade porn actress' ass?...
The television commercial poses a question to the audience...
"Have you ever wondered what four hot girls sharing an apartment on the Gold Coast get up to?"
I'm aware that this is intended to be a rhetorical question, the attitude in the announcers voice suggests that it's almost a stupid question... like... the men sitting at home would respond with a, "What kind of a question is that?... of course I've wondered what they get up to!... infact it plagues my mind during both waking and sleeping hours!"
But unfortunately for me, this voice over does nothing to advance the arguement, as I can honestly say I've never once given a fuck what these girls might be doing.
The next thing I'm going to tell you may shock you... but I feel it's my duty to let the public know the truth... You may be astounded to learn that the girls pictured here...
To which I must beg you spare my life for a couple minutes more... so you may learn what I've learnt.
The idea behind this product/service is the consumer will pay approximately $1.50 per day, to recieve streaming video and photos on their mobile phone... Am I the only one that finds it disturbing that it costs $1 a day to feed and clothe a starving child... yet there are probably more people stuffing that childs health and well being into the undersized, cum drenched bras of four sluts in QLD in hopes of recieving yet another video of them dry humping each other?
What I find even more perplexing about such a service is that, assuming the video and photos will be used as motivation for masturbation... I cannot see how its physically possible to pleasure ones self to a mobile phone...
I mean... I have a 19 inch monitor and Bitcomet... do I really need to bother trying to hit the zoom button on my phone keypad so I can hopefully see the freckles on some dolled up D-Grade porn actress' ass?...
The television commercial poses a question to the audience...
"Have you ever wondered what four hot girls sharing an apartment on the Gold Coast get up to?"
I'm aware that this is intended to be a rhetorical question, the attitude in the announcers voice suggests that it's almost a stupid question... like... the men sitting at home would respond with a, "What kind of a question is that?... of course I've wondered what they get up to!... infact it plagues my mind during both waking and sleeping hours!"
But unfortunately for me, this voice over does nothing to advance the arguement, as I can honestly say I've never once given a fuck what these girls might be doing.
The next thing I'm going to tell you may shock you... but I feel it's my duty to let the public know the truth... You may be astounded to learn that the girls pictured here...
... that these girls are not virgins!!!... not only have these harlots had relations out of wedlock... BUT THEY'RE NOT EVEN CHRISTIANS!!!........ I know... I know....... shocking isn't it?...
At this point my advice is to take a break... perhaps have a juice... and come back when you feel like you are prepared to go on... because the revelations only get darker from here...
Part II - The Middle East Connection
As I began delving deeper into the mystery of The Gold Coast Girls i noticed something queer about this "awesome foursome".
Now, we've all had nightmares about Malaysian lady-boys... Whether we'd like to admit it or not... We've all at one point in our lives had a month long stretch of screaming ourselves out of our slumber at 4am, tears running down our face, in a sweat soaked bed and the remnants of bad dreams involving asian chicks with dicks, consuming our thoughts.
It's perhaps this paranoia that brought a certain something to my attention...
At this point my advice is to take a break... perhaps have a juice... and come back when you feel like you are prepared to go on... because the revelations only get darker from here...
Part II - The Middle East Connection
As I began delving deeper into the mystery of The Gold Coast Girls i noticed something queer about this "awesome foursome".
Now, we've all had nightmares about Malaysian lady-boys... Whether we'd like to admit it or not... We've all at one point in our lives had a month long stretch of screaming ourselves out of our slumber at 4am, tears running down our face, in a sweat soaked bed and the remnants of bad dreams involving asian chicks with dicks, consuming our thoughts.
It's perhaps this paranoia that brought a certain something to my attention...
AND BAM!!!
My suspicions were correct... "Kat"... is nothing more than a cheap $5000 Malaysian sex change job...
My curiosity grew... while getting lost in "her"... deep... mysterious... brown eyes... i noticed that she looked familiar...
I found myself... a man possessed... on the conquest of truth, justice, and freedom!
I then contacted the Malaysian Census Board... to discover the identity of this, the most peculiar member of the Gold Coast gang... I learned that never... in Malaysias history... had there ever been a citizen who went by the name of Kat.
Alarm bells began to ring inside my head...
I realised I'd stumbled across something very covert, perhaps a secret that I wasn't supposed to know... I was determined to find out more...
After speaking with the Malaysian Census people... I decided to contact my friend, Rob (R.I.P.) at the Behavioural Sciences Laboratory in New York City... I sent him a picture of Kat and requested he do a bone structure examination and perhaps the computer may find a match within the database...
What was uncovered was one of the biggest mistakes of national security in the history of Western Civilisation...
After learning what we did... within hours... my friend Rob was found dead... the coroner determined that he'd strangled himself into unconsciousness and then shot himself in the back of the head 3 times at long range with a rifle.....
I however believe there was some foul play involved...
Below are the results of the bone structure test... these results have only a 1% chance of being erroneous, and we're sent to me only moments before my good friend lost his life...
*CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC!*
My suspicions were correct... "Kat"... is nothing more than a cheap $5000 Malaysian sex change job...
My curiosity grew... while getting lost in "her"... deep... mysterious... brown eyes... i noticed that she looked familiar...
I found myself... a man possessed... on the conquest of truth, justice, and freedom!
I then contacted the Malaysian Census Board... to discover the identity of this, the most peculiar member of the Gold Coast gang... I learned that never... in Malaysias history... had there ever been a citizen who went by the name of Kat.
Alarm bells began to ring inside my head...
I realised I'd stumbled across something very covert, perhaps a secret that I wasn't supposed to know... I was determined to find out more...
After speaking with the Malaysian Census people... I decided to contact my friend, Rob (R.I.P.) at the Behavioural Sciences Laboratory in New York City... I sent him a picture of Kat and requested he do a bone structure examination and perhaps the computer may find a match within the database...
What was uncovered was one of the biggest mistakes of national security in the history of Western Civilisation...
After learning what we did... within hours... my friend Rob was found dead... the coroner determined that he'd strangled himself into unconsciousness and then shot himself in the back of the head 3 times at long range with a rifle.....
I however believe there was some foul play involved...
Below are the results of the bone structure test... these results have only a 1% chance of being erroneous, and we're sent to me only moments before my good friend lost his life...
*CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC!*
The red dots indicate the bone structure in the face... as you can see the match is amazingly accurate...
For those that need more convincing.... perhaps the following evidence will sway you...
For those that need more convincing.... perhaps the following evidence will sway you...
There you have it... irrefutable proof... no sane man could argue in the face of such evidence...
It then dawned on me... her name KAT!!!
Kill
American
Traitors
It was so obvious... it was staring at me the whole time...
When I stepped outside and a large black van attempted to run me down... I got the feeling that someone didn't want me to spread the word about my findings...
Please... let people know what you've witnessed today... don't allow yourself be oppressed and become part of the cover up... its up to you!!!
It then dawned on me... her name KAT!!!
Kill
American
Traitors
It was so obvious... it was staring at me the whole time...
When I stepped outside and a large black van attempted to run me down... I got the feeling that someone didn't want me to spread the word about my findings...
Please... let people know what you've witnessed today... don't allow yourself be oppressed and become part of the cover up... its up to you!!!
Mon, 12 Nov 2007 09:45:00 +0100
It's been exceedingly difficult to write anything of value lately. The days hours have been consumed by money problems, job hunting and needless time and petrol wasted navigating through the labrynthine streets of Sydney after having taken a wrong turn somewhere. Not to mention the trouble I've faced when attempting to draw myself away from 1984, which is a fucking great read may I add...
I've found that when I do have the drive to put ink to A4, my train of thought is derailed by the sonic boom of screaming children.
Anyway, I've been having dreams again lately, for the first time in many years, perhaps attributed to the involuntary detox program that thrust itself upon me when I left Melbourne... Whatever the cause, it's been amusing to stir in the morning with vague glimpses of a delusive, broken story swimming in my head. And after such an absence I dare say that even nightmares are a welcome intrusion to my Z's.
With that said however, since waking this morn' I've been pestered by fragments of last nights' dream that've abruptly poked in and out of the days thoughts. Like watching an uninvited rat shove its nose through a hole in the wall that it's trying to bore, yet not able to fit through.
I've found that when I do have the drive to put ink to A4, my train of thought is derailed by the sonic boom of screaming children.
Anyway, I've been having dreams again lately, for the first time in many years, perhaps attributed to the involuntary detox program that thrust itself upon me when I left Melbourne... Whatever the cause, it's been amusing to stir in the morning with vague glimpses of a delusive, broken story swimming in my head. And after such an absence I dare say that even nightmares are a welcome intrusion to my Z's.
With that said however, since waking this morn' I've been pestered by fragments of last nights' dream that've abruptly poked in and out of the days thoughts. Like watching an uninvited rat shove its nose through a hole in the wall that it's trying to bore, yet not able to fit through.
Part 1
I'm surrounded by bright lights, like that of an operating theatre. My vision is seized with a blurred delay as I look about the backdrop.
Tiled walls. Linoleum floors. Institutional colours.
Off white, light grey and lime green, blushing under the intensity of the lights. I'd almost argue that it was a hospital if not for the frenzied sound of wailing children and the ring of cash registers reverberating off the walls.
Perhaps a supermarket. Perhaps both.
I've always loathed supermarkets as fiercly as the emergency room, if not more. So it seems fair that the two should bare comparison in my psyche.
The dreaded sounds are drowned out by something even more painful, a physical pain. Hunger.
Maybe I'd come to buy food... yet that intention doesn't explain my aimless strolling of the corridor, which I just now noticed I'm in.
My amble becomes more of a frantic pacing as time passes and the burning hunger is extinguished by a feeling of angst, as if I'm awaiting some bad news...
Had there been an accident?
No sooner had I realised that I'm alone in this miserable hall, Miss X, in mid stride, appearred out of thin air, roughly ten feet away. Arms crossed in an attempt to conceal the object she's carrying.
An air of relief washes over me at the sight of her and the thought doesn't occur to me to question her materialisation.
'Look' she kind of, half whispers, attempting to conceal the boastful sentiment in her voice. Her out stretched arms revealing more than what she's holding but also my motives for waiting and why I'd been so nervous.
A hand bag. Not hers... but stolen. I'd sent her to steal for us.
I feel no guilt however, not the slightest remorse in the obvious dishonest influence I'd wielded over her... but rather proud and upon opening the purse to see a thick wad of notes and a baggie bursting with in excess of 200 green pills, I'm impressed to say the least. Impressed and envious.
Like a Karate sensei, knocked to the ground by his star pupil, almost fearful of what I'd created.
My three friends who'd apparently been beside me the entire time, but until now had failed to announce their presence, appeared to share my enthusiasm and began giving her congratulatory back-pats...
"Sweet... let's get in the car" I said to them...
Part 2... next time biatches!
Tiled walls. Linoleum floors. Institutional colours.
Off white, light grey and lime green, blushing under the intensity of the lights. I'd almost argue that it was a hospital if not for the frenzied sound of wailing children and the ring of cash registers reverberating off the walls.
Perhaps a supermarket. Perhaps both.
I've always loathed supermarkets as fiercly as the emergency room, if not more. So it seems fair that the two should bare comparison in my psyche.
The dreaded sounds are drowned out by something even more painful, a physical pain. Hunger.
Maybe I'd come to buy food... yet that intention doesn't explain my aimless strolling of the corridor, which I just now noticed I'm in.
My amble becomes more of a frantic pacing as time passes and the burning hunger is extinguished by a feeling of angst, as if I'm awaiting some bad news...
Had there been an accident?
No sooner had I realised that I'm alone in this miserable hall, Miss X, in mid stride, appearred out of thin air, roughly ten feet away. Arms crossed in an attempt to conceal the object she's carrying.
An air of relief washes over me at the sight of her and the thought doesn't occur to me to question her materialisation.
'Look' she kind of, half whispers, attempting to conceal the boastful sentiment in her voice. Her out stretched arms revealing more than what she's holding but also my motives for waiting and why I'd been so nervous.
A hand bag. Not hers... but stolen. I'd sent her to steal for us.
I feel no guilt however, not the slightest remorse in the obvious dishonest influence I'd wielded over her... but rather proud and upon opening the purse to see a thick wad of notes and a baggie bursting with in excess of 200 green pills, I'm impressed to say the least. Impressed and envious.
Like a Karate sensei, knocked to the ground by his star pupil, almost fearful of what I'd created.
My three friends who'd apparently been beside me the entire time, but until now had failed to announce their presence, appeared to share my enthusiasm and began giving her congratulatory back-pats...
"Sweet... let's get in the car" I said to them...
Part 2... next time biatches!
Fri, 02 Nov 2007 10:48:00 +0100
Haven't had much worthy of posting the last few days...
I'm in some fuckin' suss game arcade/internet cafe in Cabramatta right now...
surrounded by cunts that look as if they'd stab me if i beat them in a game of Street Fighter...
yet... it's a serene environment compared to the shrieks of the children who inhabit our current resting place...
Cabramatta is fucking pork roll heaven... 24 hours a day...
awesome!
I'm in some fuckin' suss game arcade/internet cafe in Cabramatta right now...
surrounded by cunts that look as if they'd stab me if i beat them in a game of Street Fighter...
yet... it's a serene environment compared to the shrieks of the children who inhabit our current resting place...
Cabramatta is fucking pork roll heaven... 24 hours a day...
awesome!
Tue, 30 Oct 2007 02:08:00 +0100
We woke up and sat on the balcony with coffee and cigarettes...
I read a chapter of Orwell's 1984, yes, I'm finally reading it to all those who support the "Oh my god!... haven't you read that yet?" method of self grandeur.
I then took to my white DC's with a soft bristle toothbrush whilst Miss X helped our 2 hosts, Ginger and Persia, polish their already spotless apartment... in anticipation of Ginger's long time friend who was destined to arrive later that evening to stay for a couple days. An unexpected visit...
Aparently, the glowing condition of my kicks inspired our hosts to have me clean a couple pairs of their shoes too.
So an hour and a half & one frayed toothbrush later, Miss X and I caught the bus into the city to see what the fuss is about.
A tour that revolved around finding somewhere that sells Vietnamese rolls and somewhere to have a beer... I learnt two things...
1) The monorail isn't designed for those of us who aren't fond of heights
2) THe only people in Sydney that have a good sense of fashion are the tourists
We arrived back at the apartment and to the news that our stay had to be cut short on account of there being a lack of room to accomodate the new guest.
Despite our gratitude for their generosity and the fact that our hosts were under to obligation to house us... we'd planned the coming week under the pretense that we'd have a roof until Thursday, as promised.
However, now, with less less than 24 hours to vacate and no more than a hundred dollars between us... I couldn't help but think to myself "Well that leaves us in a shit position."
Ginger left Miss X and myself to work out what we were going to do while he went to meet his companion at the airport.
To the pub for a schooner and a steak, we headed. Did anyone say $7 steak?
It's a deal. It's a steal. It's sale of the fuckin' century!
12am. Myself, Miss X, Ginger, Persia and their friend were all quite drunk... shouting over eachothers voices and the music.
My head still slightly fuzzy from the Ammol, I turned to Ginger and slurred... "At least the coppers in Melbourne give you until 3am before they fuck your night up."
Apparently we'd disturbed more than a few neighbours.
In a brief moment of clarity I remembered that within a few hours we'd be without a bed or the necessary funds to afford a motel room.
A quick trip to the toilet. I returned to our new friends with $150 of their dollars in my pocket. Enough to get us a cheap room for a couple nights... Fuck 'em.
I knew the missing cash wouldn't go unnoticed. None-the-less I'd hoped we could've been out of there when they were to discover their wallets were light...
Not so lucky unfortunately.
And after roughly an hour of the usual "Where the fuck is my money" confrontation, and a performance by Miss X worthy of the Oscar for best supporting female actress... we decided it'd be best to take off.
Before leaving I pocketed another 50 from out hosts friends purse... the bitch should've just kept her mouth shut rather than suggesting that we'd over stayed our welcome.
So I packed the car and we left with no particular destination.
Besides running up the rear of a ute when parking, Miss X did incredibly well keeping the car on the road considering the condition she was in.
We attempted to sleep in the car until check in... then we booked a room for two nights, where I'm now writing this.
We're almost out of money again, which may lead to yet another desperate move to ensure us a couple more days of security.
But we'll see what happens...
I read a chapter of Orwell's 1984, yes, I'm finally reading it to all those who support the "Oh my god!... haven't you read that yet?" method of self grandeur.
I then took to my white DC's with a soft bristle toothbrush whilst Miss X helped our 2 hosts, Ginger and Persia, polish their already spotless apartment... in anticipation of Ginger's long time friend who was destined to arrive later that evening to stay for a couple days. An unexpected visit...
Aparently, the glowing condition of my kicks inspired our hosts to have me clean a couple pairs of their shoes too.
So an hour and a half & one frayed toothbrush later, Miss X and I caught the bus into the city to see what the fuss is about.
A tour that revolved around finding somewhere that sells Vietnamese rolls and somewhere to have a beer... I learnt two things...
1) The monorail isn't designed for those of us who aren't fond of heights
2) THe only people in Sydney that have a good sense of fashion are the tourists
We arrived back at the apartment and to the news that our stay had to be cut short on account of there being a lack of room to accomodate the new guest.
Despite our gratitude for their generosity and the fact that our hosts were under to obligation to house us... we'd planned the coming week under the pretense that we'd have a roof until Thursday, as promised.
However, now, with less less than 24 hours to vacate and no more than a hundred dollars between us... I couldn't help but think to myself "Well that leaves us in a shit position."
Ginger left Miss X and myself to work out what we were going to do while he went to meet his companion at the airport.
To the pub for a schooner and a steak, we headed. Did anyone say $7 steak?
It's a deal. It's a steal. It's sale of the fuckin' century!
12am. Myself, Miss X, Ginger, Persia and their friend were all quite drunk... shouting over eachothers voices and the music.
My head still slightly fuzzy from the Ammol, I turned to Ginger and slurred... "At least the coppers in Melbourne give you until 3am before they fuck your night up."
Apparently we'd disturbed more than a few neighbours.
In a brief moment of clarity I remembered that within a few hours we'd be without a bed or the necessary funds to afford a motel room.
A quick trip to the toilet. I returned to our new friends with $150 of their dollars in my pocket. Enough to get us a cheap room for a couple nights... Fuck 'em.
I knew the missing cash wouldn't go unnoticed. None-the-less I'd hoped we could've been out of there when they were to discover their wallets were light...
Not so lucky unfortunately.
And after roughly an hour of the usual "Where the fuck is my money" confrontation, and a performance by Miss X worthy of the Oscar for best supporting female actress... we decided it'd be best to take off.
Before leaving I pocketed another 50 from out hosts friends purse... the bitch should've just kept her mouth shut rather than suggesting that we'd over stayed our welcome.
So I packed the car and we left with no particular destination.
Besides running up the rear of a ute when parking, Miss X did incredibly well keeping the car on the road considering the condition she was in.
We attempted to sleep in the car until check in... then we booked a room for two nights, where I'm now writing this.
We're almost out of money again, which may lead to yet another desperate move to ensure us a couple more days of security.
But we'll see what happens...
Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:33:00 +0100
Inner city Sydney dealers needed...
I don't know where the fuck to get weed, pills, coke, whizz etc etc
SOMEONE HELP!
I'm good business!
I don't know where the fuck to get weed, pills, coke, whizz etc etc
SOMEONE HELP!
I'm good business!
Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:17:00 +0100
I could always keep a good poker face... Consistently
Amidst many a saga caused by the psychotic, drug fucked men that the women in my family were drawn to...
Nights when i was woken by a mother in distress and had to comfort her through the end of an acid trip she'd unknowingly eaten on the word of her fuckwit boyfriend who told her it was ecstasy.
I listened, I heard... I tried to understand what was incomprehendable at that age.
The birthdays and Christmas' that were accompanied with an I.O.U. because it was either my gift or the outstanding electricity bill...
I never fussed and was happy that my small sacrifice would help my struggling mum and was something that my sisters "wouldn't understand"
I had a bond. I had a role to play...
The one who could understand financial hardship... who after all of the fallouts and numerous times my mum or sisters got fucked over... was always supportive of their decision to "give it another go"
The poker face. My role in the family was to remain calm.
So, what's the point of this spiel?
The point is...
After more than a decade of projecting rational thought and level headedness, despite your true feelings... It's only natural that when you seemingly out-of-nowhere do something completely unexplainable, those closest to you will desperately pin the blame anywhere but on you.
It's hard to accept or believe that the rock you've lent against so often when weak... is just as unstable as you are.
I'm in need of the same courtesy I've extended you on so many occasions...
Rather than break your boyfriend's nose at the front door after he left you in tears last night... I let him in.
Instead of hold a blade to your best friends throat after he borrowed thousands with no intentions of paying it back... I shook his hand... and trusted that you're smart enough to know what you're doing...
Because you wanted me to.
I eagerly await the cessation of implications that I've somehow been manipulated into this decision. The notion that I'm sitting on the cold end of a ventriloquist's arm is ludacris and more than insulting.
I'm in no position to ask you for a favor. So I'm not asking.
This is a demand that must be met or risk losing more than a couple hundred dollars.
Amidst many a saga caused by the psychotic, drug fucked men that the women in my family were drawn to...
Nights when i was woken by a mother in distress and had to comfort her through the end of an acid trip she'd unknowingly eaten on the word of her fuckwit boyfriend who told her it was ecstasy.
I listened, I heard... I tried to understand what was incomprehendable at that age.
The birthdays and Christmas' that were accompanied with an I.O.U. because it was either my gift or the outstanding electricity bill...
I never fussed and was happy that my small sacrifice would help my struggling mum and was something that my sisters "wouldn't understand"
I had a bond. I had a role to play...
The one who could understand financial hardship... who after all of the fallouts and numerous times my mum or sisters got fucked over... was always supportive of their decision to "give it another go"
The poker face. My role in the family was to remain calm.
So, what's the point of this spiel?
The point is...
After more than a decade of projecting rational thought and level headedness, despite your true feelings... It's only natural that when you seemingly out-of-nowhere do something completely unexplainable, those closest to you will desperately pin the blame anywhere but on you.
It's hard to accept or believe that the rock you've lent against so often when weak... is just as unstable as you are.
I'm in need of the same courtesy I've extended you on so many occasions...
Rather than break your boyfriend's nose at the front door after he left you in tears last night... I let him in.
Instead of hold a blade to your best friends throat after he borrowed thousands with no intentions of paying it back... I shook his hand... and trusted that you're smart enough to know what you're doing...
Because you wanted me to.
I eagerly await the cessation of implications that I've somehow been manipulated into this decision. The notion that I'm sitting on the cold end of a ventriloquist's arm is ludacris and more than insulting.
I'm in no position to ask you for a favor. So I'm not asking.
This is a demand that must be met or risk losing more than a couple hundred dollars.
Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:07:00 +0100
In order of play...
Lily Allen - Alright Still
Lady Sovereign - Public Warning
Aussie Hip Hop Mix CD
Devin The Dude - Waitin' To Inhale
DJ Shadow - Private Press
Jamie T - Panic Prevention
Big Pun - Yeeeeaah Baby
Spice Girls - Spice World (I didn't endorse this... yet strangely enjoyed it)
Random RnB CD's belonging to my girl
Sydney radio stations...... fuck Melbourne has to get their shit together with radio stations... Sydney shits all over 'em
Lily Allen - Alright Still
Lady Sovereign - Public Warning
Aussie Hip Hop Mix CD
Devin The Dude - Waitin' To Inhale
DJ Shadow - Private Press
Jamie T - Panic Prevention
Big Pun - Yeeeeaah Baby
Spice Girls - Spice World (I didn't endorse this... yet strangely enjoyed it)
Random RnB CD's belonging to my girl
Sydney radio stations...... fuck Melbourne has to get their shit together with radio stations... Sydney shits all over 'em
Sat, 27 Oct 2007 04:08:00 +0200
Miss X: How much for the night?
Fat Prick: Rooms start from $105
Me: Fuck it babe, let's just pay it... I need a bed
Miss X: Ok, can we get a room?
Fat Prick: (staring at me) I don't like your language... you go... (points across the road)
Me: Fuck ya then!
This is the first conversation we'd had with anyone in Sydney.
We drove for 2 hours searching for a motel with vacancies... Admitting defeat, we pulled into some suspect side street in Penrith to stretch the car seats back to pass out, machete in hand...
Just then, the phone rang...
I'm now sitting on the balcony of a beautiful apartment in Newtown.
Black coffee
Winfield Blues
A Pad and pen
Last nights sleep was the best I've had in a fortnight. Possibly aided by the 2 bottles of champagne that our hosts generously treated us to upon our arrival.
Thank god Miss X has contacts outside that tiny speck called Melbourne.
Fat Prick: Rooms start from $105
Me: Fuck it babe, let's just pay it... I need a bed
Miss X: Ok, can we get a room?
Fat Prick: (staring at me) I don't like your language... you go... (points across the road)
Me: Fuck ya then!
This is the first conversation we'd had with anyone in Sydney.
We drove for 2 hours searching for a motel with vacancies... Admitting defeat, we pulled into some suspect side street in Penrith to stretch the car seats back to pass out, machete in hand...
Just then, the phone rang...
I'm now sitting on the balcony of a beautiful apartment in Newtown.
Black coffee
Winfield Blues
A Pad and pen
Last nights sleep was the best I've had in a fortnight. Possibly aided by the 2 bottles of champagne that our hosts generously treated us to upon our arrival.
Thank god Miss X has contacts outside that tiny speck called Melbourne.
Thu, 25 Oct 2007 11:58:00 +0200
Fuck... I thought the motels in Melbourne were dingy...
Welcome to Wodonga I guess...
I just viewed my blog on a different screen from the one I've been using previously... and the background looks fucked... so I'll get to that when I'm not paying by the minute...
I was willing to give this town a chance before exherting my usual city < country prejudices... but then we went to play some games at Intencity...
I didn't realised Pacman was still hailed as a great achievment in the video game revolution... and how the fuck can you play air hockey with only one baton?
So it's been 400k so far... another 400 or so tomorrow...
It's time for a pot and a parma...
peeeeeeeesss owt!
Welcome to Wodonga I guess...
I just viewed my blog on a different screen from the one I've been using previously... and the background looks fucked... so I'll get to that when I'm not paying by the minute...
I was willing to give this town a chance before exherting my usual city < country prejudices... but then we went to play some games at Intencity...
I didn't realised Pacman was still hailed as a great achievment in the video game revolution... and how the fuck can you play air hockey with only one baton?
So it's been 400k so far... another 400 or so tomorrow...
It's time for a pot and a parma...
peeeeeeeesss owt!
Thu, 25 Oct 2007 11:52:00 +0200
Here I am...
Some obscure motel in Noble Park (The OZ Crime Capital), watching the Antiques Roadshow.
In front of me is a half empty bottle of Jose Cuervo Tequila... blocking my view of the television... A half pissed Miss X is lying inside the wardrobe...
We're finally leaving...
Freedom is a great feeling but it doesn't come for free...
My mum is at her house crying, overwhelmed by concern and betrayal no doubt.
It's painful to think about so I try not to.
Another shot.
Sydney here we come!
Some obscure motel in Noble Park (The OZ Crime Capital), watching the Antiques Roadshow.
In front of me is a half empty bottle of Jose Cuervo Tequila... blocking my view of the television... A half pissed Miss X is lying inside the wardrobe...
We're finally leaving...
Freedom is a great feeling but it doesn't come for free...
My mum is at her house crying, overwhelmed by concern and betrayal no doubt.
It's painful to think about so I try not to.
Another shot.
Sydney here we come!
Tue, 23 Oct 2007 17:20:00 +0200
i realised a couple hours ago that i'm never gonna get out of here unless i just bail...
it's 1:21am... and tonight i'm bailing...
fuck this place...
i'm leaving with or without her... i hope she comes with though...
i can't do this alone...
i'm sorry mum... that 500 will help me get to where im going...
i wish there was another way... but there isn't...
we'll never get out of here otherwise...
it's 1:21am... and tonight i'm bailing...
fuck this place...
i'm leaving with or without her... i hope she comes with though...
i can't do this alone...
i'm sorry mum... that 500 will help me get to where im going...
i wish there was another way... but there isn't...
we'll never get out of here otherwise...
fuck this... i'm out
Mon, 22 Oct 2007 17:35:00 +0200
Tired...
It's 2:30am and I can't sleep...
and for the first time in a long time I can't blame it on drugs...
The bed is cold... empty... it's never felt like that before...
I know you probably cried yourself to sleep tonight...
I fucking wish I never met you...
I wish you never left him for me...
I wish I never felt anything for you...
I wish I could've fucked you off without a second thought...
like I've done to so many other people in my life...
who didn't fit perfectly into my puzzle...
I hate this love bullshit...
Movies and music have lied to the two of us...
it's not the way they made it out to be...
Where's the romantic reunion after our fights?
Where's the awesome make up sex that washes it all away?
Where's the smiles?...
the orchestric soundtrack?...
the sunsets?...
Where's the subtle feeling that it will all work out in the end?
All there is, is this... fucking pain in my chest...
the pain in my head... and the pain in my knuckles...
The wall didn't feel it... but I did...
The phone didn't feel it... but I did...
The window never felt it... but I fucking did...
I fucking hate that I love you...
You tell me I don't care... I wish it were true...
shit would be so much easier...
I want to punch the fuck out of the guy who owns hallmark...
I want to kick the fuck out of your dad...
I want to smash my head against the fucking wall until I'm numb...
But I can't...
I can't make things easier for you...
I can't stop you from crying...
I can't apologise enough for causing this...
I can't do this shit anymore...
I can't let you go...
It's 2:30am and I can't sleep...
and for the first time in a long time I can't blame it on drugs...
The bed is cold... empty... it's never felt like that before...
I know you probably cried yourself to sleep tonight...
I fucking wish I never met you...
I wish you never left him for me...
I wish I never felt anything for you...
I wish I could've fucked you off without a second thought...
like I've done to so many other people in my life...
who didn't fit perfectly into my puzzle...
I hate this love bullshit...
Movies and music have lied to the two of us...
it's not the way they made it out to be...
Where's the romantic reunion after our fights?
Where's the awesome make up sex that washes it all away?
Where's the smiles?...
the orchestric soundtrack?...
the sunsets?...
Where's the subtle feeling that it will all work out in the end?
All there is, is this... fucking pain in my chest...
the pain in my head... and the pain in my knuckles...
The wall didn't feel it... but I did...
The phone didn't feel it... but I did...
The window never felt it... but I fucking did...
I fucking hate that I love you...
You tell me I don't care... I wish it were true...
shit would be so much easier...
I want to punch the fuck out of the guy who owns hallmark...
I want to kick the fuck out of your dad...
I want to smash my head against the fucking wall until I'm numb...
But I can't...
I can't make things easier for you...
I can't stop you from crying...
I can't apologise enough for causing this...
I can't do this shit anymore...
I can't let you go...
Thu, 18 Oct 2007 14:58:00 +0200
Amelie Mauresmo... (spelling?)
Honestly... who does he think he's fooling?
It's so blatantly obvious that this one-time world number 1 seed is not all woman...
Honestly... who does he think he's fooling?
It's so blatantly obvious that this one-time world number 1 seed is not all woman...
Now... we're not talking about a muscular female here... such as the Williams sisters who have suffered criticism about being less than feminine... there's a big difference between a beefy chick and a post op transvestite...
She is an openly gay female tennis player who claims she's being discriminated against because of her sexual orientation...
Martina Hingis got herself in trouble after saying that Mauresmo was "half a man"... Davenport claims she plays like a man...
BITCH ITS NOT DISCRIMINATION WHEN ITS THE OBVIOUS TRUTH!!! YOU ARE/WERE A MAN!!!.... JUST ADMIT IT!!!...
We've all grown comfortable with the stereotype of soft petite French women... and then this bitch had to come in and fuck it all up for us... HOW MANY FRENCH WOMEN HAVE YOU MET THAT COULD KICK YOUR ASS???...
She is an openly gay female tennis player who claims she's being discriminated against because of her sexual orientation...
Martina Hingis got herself in trouble after saying that Mauresmo was "half a man"... Davenport claims she plays like a man...
BITCH ITS NOT DISCRIMINATION WHEN ITS THE OBVIOUS TRUTH!!! YOU ARE/WERE A MAN!!!.... JUST ADMIT IT!!!...
We've all grown comfortable with the stereotype of soft petite French women... and then this bitch had to come in and fuck it all up for us... HOW MANY FRENCH WOMEN HAVE YOU MET THAT COULD KICK YOUR ASS???...
Thu, 18 Oct 2007 11:19:00 +0200
Hear me now!
Ebooks arethe shit.
There's so much twisted and illegal information pulsing through your internet connection... and most of it is available in PDF format. So, over the coming weeks I'm going to post a series of funky fresh ebooks I've come across... mostly nerdy shit i.e. "How To Kill A Man With Your Pubic Hair"... "Making Women Orgasm Just By Looking At Them"... etc...
Click any of the following titles to expand a quick description and a download link...
Ebooks are
There's so much twisted and illegal information pulsing through your internet connection... and most of it is available in PDF format. So, over the coming weeks I'm going to post a series of funky fresh ebooks I've come across... mostly nerdy shit i.e. "How To Kill A Man With Your Pubic Hair"... "Making Women Orgasm Just By Looking At Them"... etc...
Click any of the following titles to expand a quick description and a download link...
The Secrets of Street Self Defence
Paul Wellard has been a professional bouncer for many a year. He released this book to grant any untrained idiot the power to injure others.
Download"When his leg was half way to connecting with my face I sprang into action, parrying his leg to one side and punching him with all my might in the balls. His split second of shock gave me just enough time to grab his gun and disarm him (by breaking his arm)"
The Alphabet of Manliness
"So manly that the sentences don't have periods"
Maddox is a ladies man. Send this one to your mother's e-mail for Christmas and kill two birds with one stone...
1) Don't waste money on her gift
2) Show that bitch where she stands
1) Don't waste money on her gift
2) Show that bitch where she stands
Download!
Anyone that knows me knows that I like breaking shit... and there is no better soundtrack to destruction than DnB... Brian Belle-Fortune details an in-depth history of Jungle/Drum & Bass in this book.
Download!
Batman VS Predator
A three part comic book... could there be a cooler match up?... FUCKIN NO!
Download Part 1
Download Part 2
Download Part 3
The Worst Case Scenario (Survival Guide)
You are on the first date you've had in 5 years. You really like her a lot but you suspect she's a suicide bomber. What do you do?
The answer to this and many more of life's questions lie inside...
The answer to this and many more of life's questions lie inside...
Download!
Sat, 13 Oct 2007 04:21:00 +0200
"I just want to live life... I don't want to fight it anymore"
I can't do this. what the fuck was I thinking?
I can't do this. what the fuck was I thinking?
Wed, 10 Oct 2007 18:43:00 +0200
So, I've done nothing but smoke speed and sit on the internet for the past 3 weeks...
The plan was to leave Melbourne mid-september, stay at my mum's house for two weeks, then leave early October and be on our merry way around Australia... however the only thing that has left is my sense of time and what little restraint I had towards my drug intake...
So here's something I take no credit for...
The plan was to leave Melbourne mid-september, stay at my mum's house for two weeks, then leave early October and be on our merry way around Australia... however the only thing that has left is my sense of time and what little restraint I had towards my drug intake...
So here's something I take no credit for...
How to:
Butcher and prepare the human carcass for consumption
Introduction
This is a step-by-step guide on how to break down the human body from the full figure into serviceable choice cuts of meat. As in any field, there are a number of methods to the practice, and you may wish to view this as a set of suggestions rather than concrete rules. You will notice that the of the or "commercial" cuts down into smaller specific or "retail" cuts will be only mentioned in passing, and not concentrated upon. Also, the use of human fat and viscera is generally avoided, and left only to the most experimental chef. These choices, along with recipes and serving suggestions, are nearly infinite in variety, and we leave them to you. We've found these guidelines to be simple and functional, but recognize that there is always room for improvement.
Before getting to the main task, it must be mentioned that the complete rendering of the human carcass requires a fairly large amount of time, effort, and space. If the consumer does not wish to go through the ordeal of processing and storing the bulk of the entire animal, an easy alternative is as follows. Simply saw through one or both legs at the points directly below the groin and a few inches above the knee. Once skinned, these portions may then be cut into round steaks of the carver's preferred thickness, cut into fillets, deboned for a roast, etc. Meat for several meals is thus readily obtained without the need for gutting and the complexities of preparing the entire form.
The human being (also referred to throughout culinary history as "long pig" and "hairless goat" in the case of younger specimens) is not generally thought of as a staple food source. Observing the anatomy and skeleton, one can see that the animal is neither built nor bred for its meat, and as such will not provide nearly as much flesh as a pig or cow (for example, an average 1000 pound steer breaks down to provide 432 pounds of saleable beef). The large central pelvis and broad shoulder blades also interfere with achieving perfect cuts. There are advantages to this however, especially due to the fact that the typical specimen will weigh between 100-200 pounds, easily manipulated by one person with sufficient leverage.
Here the caution in choosing your meal must be mentioned. It is VERY IMPORTANT to remember that animals raised for slaughter are kept in tightly controlled environments with their health and diet carefully maintained. Humans are not. Thus not only is the meat of each person of varying quality, but people are also subject to an enormous range of diseases, infections, chemical imbalances, and poisonous bad habits, all typically increasing with age. Also as an animal ages, the meat loses its tenderness, becoming tough and stringy. No farm animal is ever allowed to age for thirty years. Six to thirteen months old is a more common slaughtering point. You will obviously want a youthful but mature physically fit human in apparently good health. A certain amount of fat is desirable as "marbling" to add a juicy, flavorful quality to the meat. We personally prefer firm Caucasian females in their early twenties. These are "ripe". But tastes vary, and it is a very large herd.
The butcher will need a fairly roomy space in which to work (an interior location is suggested), and a large table for a butcher's block. A central overhead support will need to be chosen or installed ahead of time to hang the carcass from. Large tubs or barrels for blood and waste trimmings should be convenient, and a water source close by. Most of the work can be done with a few simple tools: sharp, clean short and long bladed knives, a cleaver or hatchet, and a hacksaw.
Before getting to the main task, it must be mentioned that the complete rendering of the human carcass requires a fairly large amount of time, effort, and space. If the consumer does not wish to go through the ordeal of processing and storing the bulk of the entire animal, an easy alternative is as follows. Simply saw through one or both legs at the points directly below the groin and a few inches above the knee. Once skinned, these portions may then be cut into round steaks of the carver's preferred thickness, cut into fillets, deboned for a roast, etc. Meat for several meals is thus readily obtained without the need for gutting and the complexities of preparing the entire form.
The human being (also referred to throughout culinary history as "long pig" and "hairless goat" in the case of younger specimens) is not generally thought of as a staple food source. Observing the anatomy and skeleton, one can see that the animal is neither built nor bred for its meat, and as such will not provide nearly as much flesh as a pig or cow (for example, an average 1000 pound steer breaks down to provide 432 pounds of saleable beef). The large central pelvis and broad shoulder blades also interfere with achieving perfect cuts. There are advantages to this however, especially due to the fact that the typical specimen will weigh between 100-200 pounds, easily manipulated by one person with sufficient leverage.
Here the caution in choosing your meal must be mentioned. It is VERY IMPORTANT to remember that animals raised for slaughter are kept in tightly controlled environments with their health and diet carefully maintained. Humans are not. Thus not only is the meat of each person of varying quality, but people are also subject to an enormous range of diseases, infections, chemical imbalances, and poisonous bad habits, all typically increasing with age. Also as an animal ages, the meat loses its tenderness, becoming tough and stringy. No farm animal is ever allowed to age for thirty years. Six to thirteen months old is a more common slaughtering point. You will obviously want a youthful but mature physically fit human in apparently good health. A certain amount of fat is desirable as "marbling" to add a juicy, flavorful quality to the meat. We personally prefer firm Caucasian females in their early twenties. These are "ripe". But tastes vary, and it is a very large herd.
The butcher will need a fairly roomy space in which to work (an interior location is suggested), and a large table for a butcher's block. A central overhead support will need to be chosen or installed ahead of time to hang the carcass from. Large tubs or barrels for blood and waste trimmings should be convenient, and a water source close by. Most of the work can be done with a few simple tools: sharp, clean short and long bladed knives, a cleaver or hatchet, and a hacksaw.
Body Preparation
Acquiring your subject is up to you. For best results and health, freshness is imperative. A living human in captivity is optimal, but not always available. When possible make sure the animal has no food for 48 hours, but plenty of water. This fasting helps flush the system, purging stored toxins and bodily wastes, as well as making bleeding and cleaning easier. Under ideal conditions, the specimen will then be stunned into insensitivity. Sharp unexpected blows to the head are best, tranquilizers not being recommended as they may taint the flavor of the meat. If this is not possible without exciting the animal and causing a struggle (which will pump a greater volume of blood and secretions such as adrenaline throughout the body), a single bullet through the middle of the forehead or back of the skull will suffice.
Hanging
Once the animal is unconscious or dead, it is ready to be hoisted. Get the feet up first, then the hands, with the head down. This is called the "Gein configuration". Simple loops of rope may be tied around the hands and feet and then attached to a crossbar or overhead beam. Or, by making a cut behind the Achilles tendon, a meathook may be inserted into each ankle for hanging support. The legs should be spread so that the feet are outside the shoulders, with the arms roughly parallel to the legs. This provides access to the pelvis, and keeps the arms out of the way in a ready position for removal. It's easiest to work if the feet are slightly above the level of the butcher's head.
Bleeding
Place a large open vessel beneath the animal's head. With a long-bladed knife, start at one corner of the jaw and make a deep "ear-to-ear" cut through the neck and larynx to the opposite side. This will sever the internal and external carotid arteries, the major blood vessels carrying blood from the heart to the head, face, and brain. If the animal is not yet dead, this will kill it quickly, and allow for the blood to drain in any case. After the initial rush of blood, the stream should be controllable and can be directed into a receptacle. Drainage can be assisted by massaging the extremities down in the direction of the trunk, and by compressing and releasing, "pumping", the stomach. A mature specimen will contain almost six liters of blood. There is no use for this fluid, unless some source is waiting to use it immediately for ritual purposes. It acts as an emetic in most people if drunk, and it must be mentioned here that because of the eternal possibility of AIDS it is recommended that for safety's sake all blood should be considered to be contaminated and disposed of in some fashion. It is not known whether an HlV-infected human's flesh is dangerous even if cooked, but this is another item to consider when choosing a specimen, someone in the low-risk strata.
Beheading
When the bleeding slows, preparation for decapitation can be started. Continue the cut to the throat around the entire neck, from the jawline to the back of the skull. Once muscle and ligament have been sliced away, the head can be cleanly removed by gripping it on either side and twisting it off, separation occurring where the spinal cord meets the skull. This is indicative of the method to be used for dividing other bones or joints, in that the meat should generally be cut through first with a knife, and the exposed bone then separated with a saw or cleaver. The merits of keeping the skull as a trophy are debatable for two principal reasons. First, a human skull may call suspicious attention to the new owner. Secondly, thorough cleaning is difficult due to the large brain mass, which is hard to remove without opening the skull. The brain is not good to eat. Removing the tongue and eyes, skinning the head, and placing it outside in a wire cage may be effective. The cage allows small scavengers such as ants and maggots to cleanse the flesh from the bones, while preventing it being carried off by larger scavengers, such as dogs and children. After a sufficient period of time, you may retrieve the skull and boil it in a dilute bleach solution to sterilize it and wash away any remaining tissue.
Skinning
After removing the head, wash the rest of the body down. Because there is no major market for human hides, particular care in removing the skin in a single piece is not necessary, and makes the task much easier. The skin is in fact a large organ, and by flaying the carcass you not only expose the muscular configuration, but also get rid of the hair and the tiny distasteful glands which produce sweat and oil. A short-bladed knife should be used to avoid slicing into muscle and viscera. The skin is composed of two layers, an outer thinner one with a thicker tissue layer below it. When skinning, first score the surface, cutting lightly to be sure of depth and direction. The diagram of the skinning pattern is an example of strip-style skinning, dividing the surface into portions easy to handle. Reflect the skin by lifting up and peeling back with one hand, while bringing the knife in as flat to the skin as possible to cut away connective tissue. The external genitals present only a small obstacle. In the male the penis and scrotum can be pulled away from the body and severed, in the female the outer lips skinned as the rest of the body. It is important to leave the anus untouched at this point, and a circle of skin should be left around it. You need not bother skinning the hands and feet, these portions not being worth the effort unless you plan to pickle them or use them in soup. The skin can be disposed of, or made into fried rinds. Boil the strips and peel away the outer layer, then cut into smaller pieces and deep-fat fry in boiling oil until puffy and crisp. Dust with garlic salt, paprika and cayenne pepper.
Gutting
The next major step is complete evisceration of the carcass. To begin, make a cut from the solar plexus, the point between the breastbone and stomach, almost to the anus. Be very careful not to cut into the intestines, as this will contaminate the surrounding area with bacteria and possibly feces (if this does happen, cleanse thoroughly). A good way to avoid this is to use the knife inside the abdominal wall, blade facing toward you, and making cautious progress. Make a cut around the anus, or "bung", and tie it off with twine. This also prevents contamination, keeping the body from voiding any material left in the bowel. With a saw, cut through the pubic bone, or "aitch". The lower body is now completely open, and you can begin to pull the organ masses (large and small intestines, kidneys, liver, stomach) out and cut them away from the back wall of the body.
For the upper torso, first cut through the diaphragm around the inner surface of the carcass. This is the muscular membrane which divides the upper, or thoracic, and the lower abdominal cavities. Remove the breastbone, cutting down to the point on each side where it connects to the ribs, and then sawing through and detaching it from the collar bone. Some prefer to cut straight through the middle, depending on the ideas you have for cuts in the final stages. The heart and lungs may be detached and the throat cut into to remove the larynx and trachea. Once all of the inner organs have been removed, trim away any blood vessels or remaining pieces of connective tissue from the interior of the carcass, and wash out thoroughly.
For the upper torso, first cut through the diaphragm around the inner surface of the carcass. This is the muscular membrane which divides the upper, or thoracic, and the lower abdominal cavities. Remove the breastbone, cutting down to the point on each side where it connects to the ribs, and then sawing through and detaching it from the collar bone. Some prefer to cut straight through the middle, depending on the ideas you have for cuts in the final stages. The heart and lungs may be detached and the throat cut into to remove the larynx and trachea. Once all of the inner organs have been removed, trim away any blood vessels or remaining pieces of connective tissue from the interior of the carcass, and wash out thoroughly.
Remove the Arms
Actual butchering of the carcass is now ready to begin. Cut into the armpit straight to the shoulder, and remove the arm bone, the humerus, from the collar bone and shoulder blade. Chop the hand off an inch or so above the wrist. Most of the meat here is between elbow and shoulder, as the muscle groups are larger here and due to the fact that there are two bones in the forearm. Another way of cutting this portion is to cut away the deltoid muscle from the upper arm near the shoulder (but leaving it attached to the trunk) before removing the limb. This decreases the percentage of useable meat on the arm, but allows a larger shoulder strip when excising the shoulder blade. Purely a matter of personal preference. Cut into and break apart the joint of the elbow, and the two halves of each arm are now ready for carving servings from. Human flesh should always be properly cooked before eating.
Halving the Carcass
The main body is now ready to be split. Some like to saw straight through the spine from buttocks to neck. This leaves the muscle fiber encasing the vertebrae on the end of the ribs. The meat here however is tightly wrapped about the bone, and we find it more suitable (if used at all) when boiled for soup. Thus, our preferred method is to completely remove the entire backbone by cutting and then sawing down either side from the tailbone on through.
Quartering the Carcass
The halves may now be taken down, unless your preparation table or butcher block is very short. This is inadequate, and you will have to quarter while hanging, slicing through the side at a point of your choosing between rib cage and pelvis. Now is also the time to begin thinking about how you would like to serve the flesh, as this will determine the style of cuts you are about to make. These will also be greatly affected by the muscular configuration (physical fitness) of your specimen. First, chop the feet off at a point about three inches up from the ankle. The bones are very thick where the leg connects to the foot. You will want to divide the side of meat into two further principal portions: the ribs and shoulder, and the half-pelvis and leg. In between is the "flank" or belly, which may be used for fillets or steaks, if thick enough, or even bacon strips if you wish to cut this thinly. Thin and wide strips of flesh may also be rolled, and cooked to serve as a roast. Trim away along the edge of the ribs, and then decide whether you will cut steaks from the flank into the thighs and rump, and carve accordingly.
Cutting the Top Quarter
Although not actually 25% of the meat you will get, this is designated as one-fourth of the carcass as divided into major portions. You may trim away the neck, or leave it to be connected with the shoulder, or "chuck". The first major step with this mass is to remove the shoulder blade and the collar bone. The best and easiest way we have found is to just cut along the outline of the shoulder blade, removing the meat on top and then dislocating the large bone. To excise the collar bone make an incision along its length and then cut and pry it away. Depending upon the development of the breast, you may decide it qualifies as a "brisket" and remove it before cutting the ribs. In the female the breast is composed largely of glands and fatty tissue, and despite its appetizing appearance is rather inedible. The ribs are the choice cut of the quarter. An perennial favorite for barbecuing, you may divide into sections of several ribs each and cook them as is, divide the strip in half for shorter ribs, or even carve rib steaks if the muscle mass is sufficient.
Cutting the Lower Quarter
This is where most of the meat is, humans being upright animals. The muscle mass is largest in the legs and rump. The bulk is so comparatively large here that you can do just about anything with it. The main pieces are the buttock or rump and the upper leg, the thigh. Our typical division is to cut the leg off at the bottom of the buttock, then chop away the bony mass of the knee, at places two to three inches away in either direction. Before doing this, however, you may want to remove the whole calf muscle from the back of the lower leg, as this is the best cut in its area. The upper leg is now ready for anything, most especially some beautiful, thick round steaks. The rump will have to be carved from the pelvis in a rather triangular piece. The legs attach at the hip at a forward point on the body, so there will be little interference as you carve along the curve of the pelvis. Remaining meat will be on the thighs in front of the pelvis.
Done!
An average freezer provides plenty of storage space, or you may even wish to build a simple old-fashioned smokehouse (just like an outhouse, with a stone firepit instead of a shitter). Offal and other waste trimmings can be disposed of in a number of ways, burial, animal feed, and puree and flush being just a few. Bones will dry and become brittle after being baked an oven, and can be pulverized.
Sat, 06 Oct 2007 07:57:00 +0200
Man the other day I caught a little glimpse of my first love
her purse stuffed with what she's earnt for lifting skirts up
another victim of addictions that've cursed us
she's persecuted by the thirst that's immersed her
We conversed, I let her know... it's insanity sista
using parked car windows as a vanity mirror
she's says it's cool, she's got a man that loves and protects
with a scarf to hide the bruises on her neck
I could tell by the glaze in her optics
that she ain't there... her mind's away, in the tropics
where the sunrays erase all her pain of her days in the rain
and the shame of enslaving her veins
To the grains of 'caine... life's a blur unless you look
'cos her face said more than words ever could
I had to leave it here... with a sincere goodbye
while she's climbing in a car, wiping tears from her eyes
Now, these grey skies hide the path to brighter days
I saw an old mate of mine yet hardly recognised his face
I remember pinching ganja off his mother in grade 5
but times change right... and now he's riding the mainline
He says with all this drama it's getting harder to stay clean
and mum's still bringing home a different father daily...
tried his best to straighten up for visitation with his daughter
but that's before his ex gained restraining orders
And it hurt for him to say, he had to miss her first birthday
but there's a certain way, to dispearse that pain...
so it's back to the dark flat to spark a black spoon
and lassoe his arm to leave it scarred with tattoes
Attatched to the hope... he can escape this nightmare
like life's fair... you ever need a hand, mate I'm right there
the bright glare, from a cop car made me turn and squint
he's running off... I haven't heard from him since
As I'm lying next to quiet breaths, her face it hides the pain
how can one appear so fine yet try to take their life away?
her expression's no reflection of the anguish trapped inside
the loneliest emotions... that mere language can't define
It's been since the beginning, no one ever cared to notice
it's a shame that these days, we can't turn to those that's closest
a constant rollercoaster... without the fun or tacky thrills
an entire fate, bound within a pack of happy pills
I know her only refuge is to doze her weary head
if I could make that last tear, the last tear she'd ever shed
if I could wave a wand, she'd wake upon a lighter state of mind
if she could see herself through my eyes, she's awaken with a smile
I can feel a time approaching when the mornings aren't so hard
where the bathroom tiles and razor blades are torments of the past
but until that day... I'm here... to absorb her sorrows nectar
this fever is not the girl she is... but more a hollow spectre
her purse stuffed with what she's earnt for lifting skirts up
another victim of addictions that've cursed us
she's persecuted by the thirst that's immersed her
We conversed, I let her know... it's insanity sista
using parked car windows as a vanity mirror
she's says it's cool, she's got a man that loves and protects
with a scarf to hide the bruises on her neck
I could tell by the glaze in her optics
that she ain't there... her mind's away, in the tropics
where the sunrays erase all her pain of her days in the rain
and the shame of enslaving her veins
To the grains of 'caine... life's a blur unless you look
'cos her face said more than words ever could
I had to leave it here... with a sincere goodbye
while she's climbing in a car, wiping tears from her eyes
Now, these grey skies hide the path to brighter days
I saw an old mate of mine yet hardly recognised his face
I remember pinching ganja off his mother in grade 5
but times change right... and now he's riding the mainline
He says with all this drama it's getting harder to stay clean
and mum's still bringing home a different father daily...
tried his best to straighten up for visitation with his daughter
but that's before his ex gained restraining orders
And it hurt for him to say, he had to miss her first birthday
but there's a certain way, to dispearse that pain...
so it's back to the dark flat to spark a black spoon
and lassoe his arm to leave it scarred with tattoes
Attatched to the hope... he can escape this nightmare
like life's fair... you ever need a hand, mate I'm right there
the bright glare, from a cop car made me turn and squint
he's running off... I haven't heard from him since
As I'm lying next to quiet breaths, her face it hides the pain
how can one appear so fine yet try to take their life away?
her expression's no reflection of the anguish trapped inside
the loneliest emotions... that mere language can't define
It's been since the beginning, no one ever cared to notice
it's a shame that these days, we can't turn to those that's closest
a constant rollercoaster... without the fun or tacky thrills
an entire fate, bound within a pack of happy pills
I know her only refuge is to doze her weary head
if I could make that last tear, the last tear she'd ever shed
if I could wave a wand, she'd wake upon a lighter state of mind
if she could see herself through my eyes, she's awaken with a smile
I can feel a time approaching when the mornings aren't so hard
where the bathroom tiles and razor blades are torments of the past
but until that day... I'm here... to absorb her sorrows nectar
this fever is not the girl she is... but more a hollow spectre
Fri, 05 Oct 2007 19:52:00 +0200
Do you...
a) Sift through your ashtrays and cut the burnt bit off all the ciggie butts... empty the remaining tobacco... and re-roll the used backy into new cigarettes?
b) Squeeze out the contents of the several empty shampoo bottles that have been lying on your shower floor for 6 months... and use the mixture of solutions to wash your clothes at the laundromat.... rather than cough up the 20 cents for the washing powder dispenser?
c) Scrape the black gunk out of the downpipe from your bong... dry it out... mix it with your recently aquired, recycled tobacco and smoke it?
d) Use an old bootlace for a belt?... or better yet... a twisted length of plastic wrap?
e) Scrape the ice that has enveloped the inside of your freezer... to put in your cleaned out honey jar full of water on hot days... instead of paying $2.50 for a bag of ice from 7/11?
f) Refuse to feed your pet until it has licked every morsel of biscuit from its bowl?... regardless of how long that crumb sits there, the little cunt doesn't eat until it's gone.
g) Agree to go out drinking with your mates and only "remember" that you have no money when it's your round?.........
h) Use a zip-lock sandwich bag for a wallet?
If you do these things.... you are as broke as me..... if you do these and more.... you are even broker and are probably considering prostitution...
Either way... please suggest other cheapo tactics I can use to save the thirty five cents in my... *ahem*...... wallet.... for a rainy day.
b) Squeeze out the contents of the several empty shampoo bottles that have been lying on your shower floor for 6 months... and use the mixture of solutions to wash your clothes at the laundromat.... rather than cough up the 20 cents for the washing powder dispenser?
c) Scrape the black gunk out of the downpipe from your bong... dry it out... mix it with your recently aquired, recycled tobacco and smoke it?
d) Use an old bootlace for a belt?... or better yet... a twisted length of plastic wrap?
e) Scrape the ice that has enveloped the inside of your freezer... to put in your cleaned out honey jar full of water on hot days... instead of paying $2.50 for a bag of ice from 7/11?
f) Refuse to feed your pet until it has licked every morsel of biscuit from its bowl?... regardless of how long that crumb sits there, the little cunt doesn't eat until it's gone.
g) Agree to go out drinking with your mates and only "remember" that you have no money when it's your round?.........
h) Use a zip-lock sandwich bag for a wallet?
If you do these things.... you are as broke as me..... if you do these and more.... you are even broker and are probably considering prostitution...
Either way... please suggest other cheapo tactics I can use to save the thirty five cents in my... *ahem*...... wallet.... for a rainy day.
Wed, 03 Oct 2007 09:13:00 +0200
I've been pretty spaced out the past few days and unable to write anything worthwhile... So here's an old DVD review I wrote, ganked from my Myspace page.
Title: Fighting Mad
Soundtrack: Roadrunner Records
Title: Fighting Mad
Soundtrack: Roadrunner Records
Akin to the popular Bumfights trilogy and other fighting documentaries (I use the term documentary loosely as docos are generally designed to educate the viewer) this 30 minute action packed, brawl frenzy is guaranteed to enthrall those who have a) never been in a fight or b) have an unhealthy obsession with fighting... I fall into neither of those categories so unfortunately it didn't have me on the edge of my seat.
The film begins with a quote from General William T. Sherman:
War is the remedy that our enemies have chosen, and I say let us give them what they want
Why they chose to quote one of the most hated Generals in American history I'm not sure... perhaps they didn't do their research, but already this is a sign of what's to come.
Throughout the next 30 or so minutes, more quotes appear on screen at 5 minute intervals, (or there abouts) used to cut from one scene to the next... I get the impression that the film's creators believed these quotes (all concerning war and violence) would add a touch of artistic integrity to their production. Attempting to convince the audience that what they are viewing is a deep psychological case study into the motivations and effects of violence... rather than a half an hour promo/filmclip for some of the musically challenged artists on the Roadrunner Records roster.
Unfortunately for them... I wasn't convinced.
Which brings me to my next topic, the soundtrack.
I guess there's only one word to describe the music chosen to support the grim images on screen... fuckin horrible... okay, make that two words.
I've never really been a fan of heavy metal, so I guess I'm reviewing the soundtrack from an unfair or biased standpoint. But I honestly feel the movie would have been ten times more bearable had they have chosen different music, or even different bands to set the theme for the film.
Interestingly enough, when thinking about it, all movies of this genre are backed by ear piercing, heavy metal or punk rock soundtracks...
WHY HAVEN'T THESE PEOPLE NOTICED THE CLOSE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN HIP HOP & VIOLENCE YET?
I could think of several songs from the hiphop genre that would fit such a film... oh you want me to name one?...
Stomp Da Shit Out You - CNN and M.O.P.
Infact anything from the M.O.P. catalogue would be suitable.
And on that note, there are no fight videos set to the fiery sounds of Enya!... think about it...
So!, back to the film.
I have to give this movie credit though. Like any internet fiend with an interest in morbid shit I've seen my fair share of beheadings, murder, rape, torture, stunt accident and animal attack videos. I was at a point where I thought I was pretty much desensitised to anything digital media had to offer... however there were a couple scenes in this film that will stick with me and I thought are worthy of a mention...
Highlights
Two fighters are pitted against each other in an "organised" backyard brawl in a cheaply constucted barbed wire ring, surrounded by several amusing and conveniently placed items of destruction:Fluorescant light globes Crutches A surfboard with extra long spiky blade things Skateboard Planks of wood Tables Chairs A cheese grater
All of which are utilised to their full catastrophic potential.
It was rather disturbing watching the two fighters beat each other half to death. Although, I guess it didn't impact me too bad as I wouldn't have watched the scene three times.
The referee steps in occaisionally, when one of the fighters attempts to use the barbed wire as a garrotting device.
KIDS! - Don't do PCP
Another scene that stood out was more humorous than anything.
A fight begins... and by the 7 second mark I asked my friend "Is that a chick bashing a guy?".
In a somewhat poverty stricken neighbourhood, a heavy-set woman beats the crap out of a guy half her size. It's a seriously one sided battle, which are the best. Let's be honest, who watches fight DVDs to see fair fights?... I want to see someone get the shit kicked out of them which generally only happens in unfair matchups.
Memorable Quotes
"Oh no!... he's going for the dick grab!"
When the backyard brawl is over... a female voice can be heard to remark "Shit!, he's really hurt" to which someone responds "just give him a glass of water"
Rating
I give this film one ninja out of five:
It only gained the ninja because of the two scenes I mentioned... I would like to deduct half a ninja due to the soundtrack, but unfortunately I couldn't find any half ninja emoticons...
Worth Buying?
No.
Worth Downloading?
No.
Worth Watching?
Only if you're really into this sought of thing, or if you can get your hands on a version with chapters so you can skip to the mentioned scenes.
Conclusion
It's like Bumfights, just without any of the good shit.
The film begins with a quote from General William T. Sherman:
War is the remedy that our enemies have chosen, and I say let us give them what they want
Why they chose to quote one of the most hated Generals in American history I'm not sure... perhaps they didn't do their research, but already this is a sign of what's to come.
Throughout the next 30 or so minutes, more quotes appear on screen at 5 minute intervals, (or there abouts) used to cut from one scene to the next... I get the impression that the film's creators believed these quotes (all concerning war and violence) would add a touch of artistic integrity to their production. Attempting to convince the audience that what they are viewing is a deep psychological case study into the motivations and effects of violence... rather than a half an hour promo/filmclip for some of the musically challenged artists on the Roadrunner Records roster.
Unfortunately for them... I wasn't convinced.
Which brings me to my next topic, the soundtrack.
I guess there's only one word to describe the music chosen to support the grim images on screen... fuckin horrible... okay, make that two words.
I've never really been a fan of heavy metal, so I guess I'm reviewing the soundtrack from an unfair or biased standpoint. But I honestly feel the movie would have been ten times more bearable had they have chosen different music, or even different bands to set the theme for the film.
Interestingly enough, when thinking about it, all movies of this genre are backed by ear piercing, heavy metal or punk rock soundtracks...
WHY HAVEN'T THESE PEOPLE NOTICED THE CLOSE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN HIP HOP & VIOLENCE YET?
I could think of several songs from the hiphop genre that would fit such a film... oh you want me to name one?...
Stomp Da Shit Out You - CNN and M.O.P.
Infact anything from the M.O.P. catalogue would be suitable.
And on that note, there are no fight videos set to the fiery sounds of Enya!... think about it...
So!, back to the film.
I have to give this movie credit though. Like any internet fiend with an interest in morbid shit I've seen my fair share of beheadings, murder, rape, torture, stunt accident and animal attack videos. I was at a point where I thought I was pretty much desensitised to anything digital media had to offer... however there were a couple scenes in this film that will stick with me and I thought are worthy of a mention...
Highlights
Two fighters are pitted against each other in an "organised" backyard brawl in a cheaply constucted barbed wire ring, surrounded by several amusing and conveniently placed items of destruction:
All of which are utilised to their full catastrophic potential.
It was rather disturbing watching the two fighters beat each other half to death. Although, I guess it didn't impact me too bad as I wouldn't have watched the scene three times.
The referee steps in occaisionally, when one of the fighters attempts to use the barbed wire as a garrotting device.
KIDS! - Don't do PCP
Another scene that stood out was more humorous than anything.
A fight begins... and by the 7 second mark I asked my friend "Is that a chick bashing a guy?".
In a somewhat poverty stricken neighbourhood, a heavy-set woman beats the crap out of a guy half her size. It's a seriously one sided battle, which are the best. Let's be honest, who watches fight DVDs to see fair fights?... I want to see someone get the shit kicked out of them which generally only happens in unfair matchups.
Memorable Quotes
"Oh no!... he's going for the dick grab!"
When the backyard brawl is over... a female voice can be heard to remark "Shit!, he's really hurt" to which someone responds "just give him a glass of water"
Rating
I give this film one ninja out of five:
It only gained the ninja because of the two scenes I mentioned... I would like to deduct half a ninja due to the soundtrack, but unfortunately I couldn't find any half ninja emoticons...
Worth Buying?
No.
Worth Downloading?
No.
Worth Watching?
Only if you're really into this sought of thing, or if you can get your hands on a version with chapters so you can skip to the mentioned scenes.
Conclusion
It's like Bumfights, just without any of the good shit.
Download