Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Eat this blog up, every last morsel & remember: starving office workers GET NO CUNT

You may find the content of this blog slightly unpalatable but that doesn't mean you shouldn't read it all up, and be grateful for it, dammit, because many less fortunate than you don't get a chance to.
I'm talking about office workers, of course. Those poor, grey, ashen-faced little creatures who sit at hard unyielding desks all day, no doubt dreaming of the cunts you take for granted. Corporate internet filters prevent many office workers from accessing sites that contain the word 'cunt', effectively snatching that most nourishing of words from the minds of those who, arguably, need it most.
I know about this horrible travesty because I have recently conducted field trips to certain depressing little cubicle office buildings and attempted to log onto good bits of the interweb myself. That's right, dear readers, I am WALKING THE TALK, intrepidly travelling to the badlands with scant concern for my personal safety, unafraid to mingle with those poor souls sentenced to a life of corporate whoredom. I am EXACTLY like Princess Di - venturing into the deepest darkest corners of the globe and lovingly patting retarded children on the head.
You may think this is someone else's problem - that could never happen to me, you think as you dine on cunt-related websites 'till you are completely satiated. Well, I'm sorry to say that it soon just might happen to us all. If the Government goes ahead with cruel schemes like its Plan for Cyber Safety we might all become cunt-starved.

What's to be done? Well, first off I think we should take care of those most needy - the office workers. I propose a massive cunt drop. If we can't feed cunt to them via the web we should do it old-school by paper mail. This could be costly so we should probably establish a charity to fund it all. 'Cunt-Aid' has a nice ring to it. To get the cash flowing in we need an image for the campaign that pulls at the heart strings - it's an emergency situation so we shouldn't be afraid to use shock tactics - a cunt-starved suited office minion, it's little belly swollen from boozy lunches, lack of exercise and wholesome web material should do the trick.

Think of the cunts - PLEASE! Won't someone think of the cunts?

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Bless me.

I lost my voice recently - completely - I could barely even whisper. It got so silly that my dear mate Kakariki had to set up the text-to-speech doovie on her computer so I could blab on as per usual, albeit Stephen Hawking style*. Before it completely disappeared though I had a wonderful few hours where my regular twelve-year-old girly vocals transformed into a low throaty growl. Everything I said sounded hot. I ordered a freddo frog from the guy at the milk-bar and he gave me a big grin - he asked what flavour, I said strawberry and he winked. Then, probably just for an excuse to listen to my dulcet tones, he asked if I wanted anything else. Unfortunately I went into a phlegmy coughing fit and the magic was lost, but for one glorious moment I had experienced what it was like to sound like a grown-up.

Is it sick to find being sick sexy? Who cares. The hipsters at why would you knit that certainly don't seem to think so if this beautiful tissue box they recently posted is anything to go by.

* I am SO stoked to report that the text-to-voice computer doovie correctly pronounces 'cunt', also 'cuntcuntcunt' and 'cuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcuntcunt'

Bless me indeed.