 : The Dead Horse Introduction
Written: 5th January 2010
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Hey, buddy. Welcome to the banal void of total redundancy. Here you shall find my innermost thoughts on a wide variety of uninteresting, sexually explicit, sexually depraved, sexually offensive and all around generally offensive material coming from the overgrown bubble of chav brain matter that has accumulated over the years of myself living in Britain in a working class area. As you may have already guessed from my patronising, condescending and nonetheless 'smart alec' manner, I am a Charlie Brooker and David Mitchell knockoff with a poor grasp of the concept of wit that is fit to match the brain matter required for a gurgling toddler with a loose control over digesting a Lego brick. Beyond self depreciating myself to a scale that could rival a suicidal emo cutting himself in his arteries like a surgeon, I can go through, step by step, in an entertaining way, who the fuck I am and why I'm trying to suck out all of the attention from all of the talented people with my succubi proboscis.
First of all, I should warn you of something that may either frighten you, surprise you or confuse you. I am a teenager who lives in a district native to stabbings, Chavs, Kappa Slappers and old people who are barely fit to cross a room without shitting themselves. In all cases of how you feel about this, you can stop running in terror/vomiting into a bucket/smashing your head onto the keyboard and pay attention. I know nothing about the yooth. I don't watch Skins, I don't like rap, I wear boring clothing and best of all, I don't loiter around places drinking White Lightning while my parents wonder where my life went wrong -- No, I sit in my room, drink Red Bull while my parents wonder where my life went wrong. So, I guess it's a win-win situation for all of us.
Other than activities that can blind, I partake in video gaming, watching comedy, coding on this website, musiciating badly by grinding a hobo in the balls with a cheese grater, recording the sound of a cat being smeared with peanut butter and popping off the legs of a pigeon with the rear wheel of a car. What you can find here is usually the result of these activities, the lack of a girlfriend, a job and any hope for the future pretty much guarantees that the last few years I spend of procrastination and distraction can be justified by what you see here.
- Mr Montmorency
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