clappamungus: (Lab Rats)
SoT # 8. Another short one - it was a slow news week.

Clicky.

Topics:

Scientists drill into a tectonic plate to investigate earthquake precursors;
Birds babysit for personal gain, aka Dawkins Love;
The old Aboriginal legends about how Port Philip Bay was formed might have some truth to them;
A single faulty protein may stop sperm from finding egg.

Got off night shift about 8 hours ago and am still farkarked. Bugger this, I'm going back to bed....
clappamungus: (Hug?)
Today, I drove to band practise in Hallam (for Lord Mouth, not Left of Crazy. Oh yeah, the metal band is now called Lord Mouth. I like it; blow me if you don't). Anyway, I made sure I got out of the house early. Early enough to swing by my local café and get a flat white, and yet still be able to drive into Hallam on time.

I forgot about Murphy's Law. Actually, no. I forgot about STUPID FUCKING ROAD WORKS/WORKERS OF FUCKING STUPID FESTERING IN A MASSIVE FUCKING CAULDRON OF GODDAMN STUPID...

As I pulled onto the freeway onramp just past Chadstone (big mall, for those of you not from Oz), what should have been relatively smooth sailing on the freeway was all of a sudden halted by a big fuck-off wall of traffic. Kinda like this:
Traffic jam of DOOM

I know it's not that easy to see the big line of traffic disappearing off into the horizon, but trust me, it's there. This photo was taken after I'd already been incrementally inching forward, in fits and starts, my clutch really not liking these little movements forward, for quite some time. The first time I've regretted buying a manual car...

And, of course, I couldn't back out of the freeway entrance. So I had to wait.

And wait.

And wait some fucking more.

This is on a Sunday morning, mind you. This is also after I made sure I would get to Hallam early.

I waited a hell of a long time, getting (as you can imagine) angrier and angrier by the passing nanosecond, as traffic inched forward and people ducked and weaved (or crept and crawled) into and out of lanes and refused to let other people in.

After about twenty minutes, I saw what was causing this ridiculous Sunday morning traffic jam:

FUCKWITT SIGN ON FREEWAY


They were funnelling THREE FOUR FUCKING LANES ON A FREEWAY INTO ONE. And you can tell on the sign that it's not done too many times, as the third contemptuous "NO LANE" sign has been added on rather amateurishly.

I could not believe it. Of all the goddamned bone-headed things to do. Why they couldn't close down two at the most, work on that bit of road, then close the other two off is utterly beyond me. It took all I had in me to not roll down my window as I passed the moronic road workers, all stereotypically lounging around on their bit of blocked-off bitumen, and yell a few choice words about them being over-unionised fucktarded cockspanks etc etc...

You know what made it even worse? After it was too late to do anything about, I turned on the radio and caught a traffic report, which helpfully informed me of this: "...traffic is banked up all along the Monash Freeway due to roadworks, so please choose an alternate route."

GAH...guess I'll be listening to traffic reports from now on.

Yeah, I'm still cranky about it. I'm an elephant. No, fuck that: I'm a hate camel. And my hate hump has been filled; should last me a long time.

Oh yeah, and of course I was ridiculously late for band practise. My plans are foiled YET AGAIN. I hate you, Murphy.
clappamungus: (Douse)
Dear Waking The Cadaver,

Just. Fucking. Die.

You are a disgrace to humanity, on every level. Musically, morally, and in the name of sheer taste.

On a musical level - I decided not to listen to the tr00 metalheads and give you a chance. I regret even considering doing that. Your music is either abominably boring and slow or worse, abominably boring and too fast for your stoned arses to keep up with. Your excessive use of breakdowns would make a metalcore band angry. If I hear one more sustained, super-detuned chord again, I will perform sepukku. You have no idea how to craft a good riff and your "vocalist" is laughable. YOUR DRUMMER CANNOT KEEP TIME. PLAYING BLASTBEATS DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY MEAN THAT YOU ARE A GOOD DRUMMER, YOU CONTEMPTIBLE TARD.

In a taste/moral capacity - the only saving grave about your lyrics is that I cannot hear them because of that stupid cunt you call a vocalist pig squealing. The less that's said about tracks (I refuse to call them "songs") with titles like "Raped, Pillaged and Gutted", the better, you sick, twisted wastes of oxygen. At least when Cannibal Corpse does it, it's ironic.

I sincerely hope you pull too many bongs and have a horrendous "accident" somewhere in a New Jersey landfill.

Actually, fuck it, I'll spell it out for you - I hope you end up a victim of a deranged fan (okay, a more deranged fan, since I can't see how anybody with an ounce of sanity can like this crusty shit you call music) who wants to emulate your lyrical content on you. Yes, all of you.

Now I'm off to listen to some good death metal. You know, stuff that's actually well-written. Yes, you pitiful shitheads, it exists. See below.

No love, ever,
[livejournal.com profile] clappamungus

P.S. All fans of this excrement (br00tal scenesters, I'd imagine) - I wish upon you the same fate as I have outlined above for your heroes.

AUUUUGH!!!

Feb. 4th, 2009 07:25 pm
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Johnny Cash,

I thought you could do no wrong. Or very little wrong.

Looks like *I* was wrong...

Your cover of "Cat's In The Cradle" is an utter travesty. I almost feel like exhuming your body just to give your skull a good smack upside the head for this...

Oh Jesus...

Please, stop stop stop.....

Yours, in horrified open-mouthedness,

[livejournal.com profile] clappamungus (and [livejournal.com profile] cows_might_fly)
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear THEMIS,

Get. Cunted.

No fucking love whatsoever, you overcomplicated, ridiculous piece of SHIT of a system,
Me.

(P.S. Oh, and please, PLEASE, someone start arguing with me that it's a "FREAKIN' AWESOME ACCOUNTING SYSTEM, DOOD", so I can have the pleasure of forcing you onto the ground and defecating into your eyes. Not thinking of anyone in particular here, no no no. Oh, wait, this particular tard doesn't read my LJ. Oh well.)
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Stupid goddamn fucking bastard iTunes (yeah, alright, fine, you were all right, it's a FUCKING SHIT PROGRAM OF DOOM)
clappamungus: (Douse)
Screw you, Queensland.

Once again I visit your accursed shores, and once again I pick up some goddamned evil northern bug.

And yet again, you have deserved your place on my "To Nuke" list.

Disclaimer I'll pull you out first, [livejournal.com profile] insomnius
clappamungus: (Douse)
FUCKTARD OF THE DAY

Luigi Vitale, one of the oafish boors presumed-innocent men in the party "allegedly" involved in the death of Diane Brimble on that infamous P&O cruise in 2002.

Well, the defence of the AWB head honchos and our Foreign Minister of 'I don't know' worked well enough, I suppose.


My god, I hope those wastes of life get done for a very long time, eventually (considering that this is just the inquest, I imagine the trial, if there is one, will take a bloody age). I'll be happy when they're being arse-raped in the penitentiary showers.
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
It's past 3 in the morning.

I just spent about an hour fixing up yet another fuck-up by moi.

Kill me. Now.

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