Wednesday, February 27, 2008

British Richter Scale

Less than 2.0 Not felt. Jim Davidson can happily walk down the street and still be called a cunt by earthquake-oblivious passers-by.

2.0-2.9 Men in white suits with recording equipment twitch in nervous excitement. Leeds remains shit.

3.0-3.9 Dogs' ears prick up in intrigue. Cats stop licking themselves. Jim Davidson still a cunt.

4.0-4.9 Hideous Ikea lampshades rattle visibly. Clairvoyants panic that they've actually tapped into the Other Side during one of their fraudulent milking-the-bereaved readings.

5.0-5.9 Moderate. Chimneys fall off houses in godforsaken Lincolnshire market towns. I wake up in London, thinking I'm having a stroke. Becomes top news story for the next three fucking years.

6.0-6.9 Strong. People ignore Jim Davidson to seek refuge in Tescos. Men in white suits start masturbating furiously. Middle England begins to compose letters to the Daily Mail, accusing the Earth's mantle of being under the influence of Islamic terrorism, the Polish, or drugs.

7.0-7.9 Major. Buildings collapse. My hidden stash of porn comes flying out of the wardrobe, probably when my parents are round. DFS momentarily stop their sofa sale. House prices drop ten pounds.

8.0-8.9 Serious. Heather Mills unable to keep leg affixed to hip. Hooded 12-year-olds from Scunthorpe go into labour. Deaf people say 'What was that?'
Men in white suits now at the vinegar strokes.

9.0-9.9 Devastating. 10 Years Younger and Wife Swap temporarily removed from television schedules to make way for 24-hour rolling news coverage of what Bruce Forsythe thought. Jersey children's home staff momentarily stop abusing their residents. The dying manage to whisper their last from beneath the rubble of Tescos to call Jim Davidson's racist fucking corpse a cunt.

10.0+ Never recorded. England win on penalties.

14 comments:

caZ said...

This has nothing to do with this day's post, just a suggestion I feel like making having read your blog. Now don't get me wrong; I love a vitriol-fueled rant as much as the next person, and I've enjoyed reading yours. However, my superhuman powers of deduction have led me to the conclusion that you find life depressing and disappointing, frustrating, unrewarding and pointless.

This is no way to live.

I would like to recommend that you read a book called The Luck Factor, by Professor Richard Wiseman. It's not some happy-clappy psychobabble self-help garbage, (before you object), but a proper book, written by an actual scientist. You may still feel afterwards that life is depressing and disappointing, frustrating, unrewarding and pointless, but I think you might not.

Anyway, worth a try, non? Plus its pretty short.

J.J said...

Well I only popped in to say how funny this was, but then again, I haven't got any thing to say on the subject of self help books except that I think they are all a load of crap. I would have told 'Caz' that, but surprise, surprise - no web site address.

Homer said...

"Heather Mills unable to keep leg attached to hip."

I shouldn't laugh (for approaching 10 minutes).

Knowing full well that I will regret this, I'm going to have to ask what "vinegar strokes" are.

Jo said...

An addition to 5.5

"GMTV phone lines are overloaded by people sending in pictures of destruction and ringing with their How I Survived the Earthquake stories"

I'm just bitter because I felt fuck all.

Inarticulate Fumblings said...

Brilliant! Fucking hilarious.

Laura Willows said...

Are you Philip Seymour Hoffman? You were great in that film, and I like your blog too.

caZ said...

J.J.

I quite agree. Self help books are total arse. The Luck Factor is a psychology book though, which merely has the pleasant side effect of surprising you and making you feel a little more optimistic.

I'd give a website address if I had one, but I don't, so this will have to do.

Yorkshire Pudding said...

Do you have to swear so much old chap? What would your mother think? It's quite unnecessary.

bittersweet me said...

vinegar strokes!

*chortle*

Vi said...

Was about to comment on how fucking funny that post was (sorry for swearing yorshire pud) but where the fuck did you pick up Caz from?

But then maybe she has a point you sad git.

(But you know I love ya anyway)

From your (not so) secret crush!

BWAHAHAHA!

C said...

I can't believe I missed the whole quake thing. I mean, what the hell was I sleep or something? Er..yes..

Peach said...

*grins*

Day Dreamer said...

Oh, that Heather Mills comment went way too far.

I'm still laughing too..

I may be laughing with visuals for a little longer I'm afraid.

fwengebola said...

Caz ~ Erm, what?
No, no, I take your view into consideration, that I'm a depressive, disappointed, frustrated, unrewarded person. And I am, but in a good way.
I shall seek out this book. I like the fact that you've added that it's short, as if I've got the attention span of a cat.
Right again.
JJ ~ Hello to you, and ta very much. I agree about the self help books. If they actually worked, they would start and end with Dale Carnegie's How to win friends and influence people and that would be the end of it.
But no, it's an industry.
Homer ~ Hullo there. Vinegar strokes; the face one pulls upon an expectant orgasm, much like the one pulled after drinking vinegar.
Or something.
Sounds better than it is.
Jo ~ You could always stop watching GMTV. I noticed your clip of the guy being proposed to by his missus in his factory.
IF ~ Christ, thanks.
LJW ~ Yes, I'm Phillip Seymour Hoffman, getting some much needed prep for my latest role as a chunky British misanthrope living above a chemists'.
I'll see your shit past experiences in TV, and raise you shitter past experiences in TV.
Caz ~ It's here.
I think I've heard about it before. Some people just think optimistically.
On the other hand, they also tend to be vapid, over-enthusiastic, ego-ridden charm voids, unlike me, who's just ego-ridden.
And void of charm.
And a bit vapid.
YP ~ Hello. My mother once called me a c***. And she's middle class. You're a teacher, aren't you? I re-read this post through your eyes, and I'm deeply, deeply sorry.
BSM ~ Are you having them now?
Vi ~ Good lord, are you drunk? (Great rack, btw)
C ~ Welcome. You missed nothing. Well, a light rumble. Unless you lived over the epicentre. A chair fell over, apparently.
Peach ~ Oh how nice.
DD ~ Personally I'd love to see Heather Mills-McCartney attempt to reinstall her leg amid an earthquake. Or a hurricane. Or a typhoon.