clappamungus: (Default)
This mentions disturbing stuff. )
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Mediafire,

Thank you for this. Really.

Thank you for wiping two years worth of files and not sending me out an email to tell me you were doing it. That just made my day.

I mean, yes, I have backups. And it's not like they were critically important files (you know, like the location of, I won't divulge anything incriminating, ASIO. THE TINFOIL HAT WORKS, YOU BASTARDS!).

It is, however, a mammoth pain in the arse. I have to go and fix up links now. And upload things that I thought would be sitting there waiting patiently for me.

So thanks a fucking heap. Arsemunchers.

With warmest regards,
[ profile] clappamungus
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Hollywood,

You should be nuked for this.

Thanks for continuing to take the few things that were good from my childhood and ruthlessly crushing them underfoot.

No love in the slightest,

PS. George Clooney, I hope you die in a napalm shower.
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear everyone I'm trying to call,


Yours, in extreme frustration,
[ profile] clappamungus
clappamungus: (Kill Him!)
I just sent the following email to Steve Fielding's email address, regarding his "extremely well-informed decision" (there's a reason that this is in quotations) to block the government's emissions trading scheme.

Dear Steve... )

That felt...gooooooood...

I know it won't accomplish anything.

But it felt goooooooood.
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,
[ 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.


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,

[ profile] clappamungus (and [ profile] cows_might_fly)
clappamungus: (Emogency)
Dear Insomnia,

I hate you.

No love,
[ profile] clappamungus

Dear mosquitoes,

I hate you even more than I hate Insomnia.

I hope the inherent evil in my blood chokes you, you vile little parasites.

Die horribly, you fucking bitches.

All the love in the world,
[ profile] clappamungus
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)

Get. Cunted.

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

(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: (Douse)
Dear Chris Barnes,

You suck. Really. You suck something fierce.

Six Feet Under's new album would be awesome - if it were not for you sounding like you're constipated throughout the entire thing. I mean, I know death metal growls are incomprehensible and weird-sounding to the uninitiated at the best of times - but when a death metal fan cringes at the abomination that is your effort, there's something really wrong. Actually, "effort" is too strong a word. "Defecation" is more appropriate.

You know what? I take it back. It doesn't sound like you're constipated - it sounds like someone was fucking you over the recording desk with a broken broom handle as you recorded this.

I must admit that I haven't heard the rest of Six Feet Under's back catalogue. I'm not inclined to, either, after hearing you defile such competently-played metal. Why the rest of the band haven't kicked you out by now, I'll never imagine. Jesus, even *I* could growl better than this.

Glad that I didn't shell out actual money for this,

[ profile] clappamungus
clappamungus: (Lil' Johnny)
Dear Septimus, Master O'Reilly, Nom du Jeu, Varevees, Prize Lady and Barbaricus,

It's the knackery for you. Perhaps you'll be better as a solvent for holding pieces of wood together than as race horses.


clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Amazon,

Go and get fucked.


Dear operators of every online seller ever,

Please contract an especially virulent strain of...herpes...and just fucking die.



Oct. 27th, 2008 06:52 pm
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Brain,

Fuck you. Why the hell did you suddenly start reciting John "King -of-Rock-WHAT-THE-FUCK?" Farnham's "You're the Voice" over and over and over and over????

Go to hell.

No love,
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Mycobacterium ulcerans,

HOW CAN YOU BE AT AN (extrapolated) OD 600nm OF 6.1 AND STILL BE FUCKING GROWING?????????


I cannot wait to autoclave you.

Yours, in greatest health (but PLEASE DIE ALREADY),

PS. I'm going home. I've had enough of today.
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Olympics,

Fuck off and die. I'm sick to death of hearing about you.

No love in the slightest,
[ profile] clappamungus

Seriously, the next person who engages me in conversation about the goddamn Olympics will find their head shoved somewhere into a dark, warm place that smells like what they ate for breakfast, only older and more rotten.

I don't care about Stephanie Rice being our new "Golden Girl", nor do I care about medal tallies, and I certainly haven't watched a minute of it. Yet, everywhere I go, there it is. People crapping on about it. People stealing my newspaper so they can read the liftout. I've started to say "no, sorry, I left the liftout at home" just so I can see the looks on their faces. it's like I just strangled a kitten in front of them.

Yes, I'm a misanthrope. Yes, I'm anti-jingoism. Yes, I'm bitter and twisted.

No, I don't really care.

I'll be so glad when this goddamn farce is over.
clappamungus: (Emogency)
Dear ex-Favourite Café,

I have a routine. When my routine is messed up, it messes up my whole day.

I know it was a free coffee that I got (oh, Buy-5-Get-1-Free cards and how they rock my world). However, this does not give you the right to give me a freaking SMALL CAPPUCCINO in place of a MEDIUM FLAT WHITE. I have been going to you guys in the morning for almost 6 months to get my MEDIUM FLAT WHITE. So much so that I usually say "the usual please." Which is what I did this morning. HOW THE HOLY HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO FUCK IT UP SO ROYALLY??

I realise that in the big scheme of things, this is not a major world-changing event. Yes, global warming, world poverty, China taking over everything soon. I know. All major impending crises. However, I can deal with these in my own headspace IF MY COFFEE IS GOOD. THIS MORNING IT WAS NOT GOOD. IN FACT IT WAS NOT A COFFEE AT ALL*. And then, instead of apologising for the fuck-up, the woman who made it stared at me with this incomprehensible look and said "oh, sorry", like it was MY fault that she'd buggered up my order.

Fuckers. Now I have to go and face the day without my full complement of caffeine.

I'm giving you one more chance, and if I see no improvement...well. I'll just have to go to another café, won't I? SEE IF YOU LIKE THAT, YOU STUPID MONGERS.

No love whatsoever, because every now and then you burn the sodding milk too,
[ profile] clappamungus

* Peanut gallery: I will hear no comments about how "meh meh meh, cappucino is coffee, you elitist scum." Maybe it was coffee once, before they put all that horrible non-frothed milk and chocolate powder in it.


May. 28th, 2008 09:42 pm
clappamungus: (Blackadder)
Dear Metallica,

Fuck you

It's now official. You are not a metal band anymore. You're a self-serving, well-oiled marketing machine for scenester kiddies.

Oh you're sooooo bad and brvtal with your "New S@%!" tagline. Oh, and Kirk Hammett has found the high end of the guitar neck again. Good for him. And hey, the production is better. It couldn't have been much worse. Oh, and Hetfield and Ulrich are getting on now. Isn't that nice? Woot for them. Ulrich still needs a click track though. It's amazing that a drummer, who's supposed to know rhythm, needs a FUCKING CLICK TRACK.

The sight of your fattened arses going through the motions makes me want to vomit. Your new stuff sounds like a the bastard child of your attempt to formulate a few token thrash riffs and the steaming pile of hogwash that was your Load and Reload crud. STOP TRYING TO PLACE A BET EVERY WHICH WAY AND CHOOSE A SUB-GENRE, YOU STUPID OLD CUNTS.

I'm certainly not going to feel any guilt when I download your new album rather than shelling out $30 for it. I hope it hurts, Lar$, you fuckwad. And I guarantee you, it won't be just me. I doubt that any self-respecting metal fan (hell, any remaining self-respecting Metallica fan) would part with $1 for your latest drivel.

Eat shit and die, you bunch of posers,

[ profile] clappamungus
clappamungus: (Classic *head-desk*)
Dear Photobucket,

You are shit, shit, shit, and I hate you, hate you, hate you.

[ profile] clappamungus

PS. Don't anyone dare tell me that flickr is better, because I've tried it, and it's just a different type of shit, shit, shit.
clappamungus: (Kill Him!)
Dear U.S. Customs Officials in Buttfuck U.S.A. (aka, Charlotte, North Carolina, U.S.A),

I love the fact that I was kept in an office for over an hour with Guatemalans and couples who had adopted Guatemalan babies for no apparent reason, almost missing my connecting flight to New York. I also am heartily guffawing at the fact that you told nothing to my worried girlfriend, who had to sit in a corridor in your shitty little airport and wait for me, but then you wouldn't tell her what was going on or whether or not I'd be allowed to pass through into your venerated country.

I love the fact that you're so interested in what I am doing here, and what my job is, and what I plan to do after I return to Australia. Even thought it's none of your goddamned business if I happen to circumcise kittens wthout anaesthetic. And then you have the gall to tell me that it's law that I have to enter the U.S. with $200, even though this is stated nowhere and I've asked a U.S. citizen since then of the veracity of this, and he has also been confused. I also love the fact that there was not one word of explanation or apology as to why I had been detained. Thanks to you, we almost missed our flight. I suppose if that had happened, you would have done nothing to help us either. And all the while, while one of you chicken fuckers was asking me things I'd already been asked, I was staring at your retard's President's smiling mug hanging on the wall.

You have no idea how close I was to actually doing something that would have got me locked up and/or deported.

In short, I hope every single fucking one of you gets raped and mauled by a pack of rabid pitbulls. Slowly.

All my love,

[ profile] clappamungus


Jun. 29th, 2007 04:06 pm
clappamungus: (Emogency)
Dear brain,

For god's sake, boy, SWITCH ON! I NEED YOU NOW!




clappamungus: (Default)

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