Cunt Fling-Ups

A couple of weeks ago it was my birthday so I thought it was the perfect opportunity to gather some friends around



Feed them delicious cunt-cakes made by my ma (note the cherry clits)


And set them to work....



The results were GORGEOUS



So gorgeous that I wanted to share them with the world so flung them up into the sky


This lovely pair of cunts can be seen dangling over KingWilliam st Fitzroy.

More cunt fling-ups to follow x

Thank Christ for my cunt

Joseph may never have gotten a look-in at Mary's cunt but I'm sure he'd be delighted to know that, all these years later, the birth of the darling little bastard Jesus has delivered to me a gorgeous cunt purse which I shall love in all ways except (perhaps) the Biblical.

Yes! Hallelujah! I was lost, penniless, desperately scraping coins from the floor when kakariki looked down upon me and said 'Behold! Casey! Do not despair!'


Gather about you all your little ones and store them in this divine cunt-purse which I have miraculously called forth as a Christmas gift for thee from the interweb...


And ye shall find peace and joy...


And so it was said, and so it was done.

Merry Cuntmas, Amen.



bloody predictable

If you asked me to word associate 'cunt', it would take a long looooong time before you heard me utter the word 'aunt'. Probably about 2 trillion words would spring to mind before that one, at a rough estimate. There's 'hot', 'delightful', 'yummy', 'blood', 'pleasure', 'pink', 'sex', 'woman', etc etc etc. Yep, it would take a long time before 'aunt' sprang to mind.

Not so for mobile phone manufacturers. When they think about cunt their minds turn immediately, not to sex but to their aunties. Or perhaps to sex and their aunties but that's a tad disturbing so I won't explore that angle any further. In any case, the nong heads have arranged it so that when you try to type 'cunt' into your phone the following appears:


As if to say - you were thinking of 'cunt' but what you really want to say is 'aunt', yes? No, Nokia - NO!

And even when you try to correct them by scrolling through the predictive text word-change doovie all that happens is this:


Now this is just ridiculous. Why on earth do we need a made up gibberish nonsense word on our phones more than the vital 'cunt'? Maybe mobile radiation does affect the brain after-all 'cause something is clearly very wrong in the land of cell-phone peddlers. Pack of bloody cumu-heads.

Tautology

This delightful graf can be seen on a boarded up shop-front opposite Bebida on Smith St. It was encouraging to see a council worker busily scraping band posters from the boards - presumably so they wouldn't get in the way of the beautiful writing.

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?

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.

Oh for crying out loud legalise abortion already.

A woman's body is her own to do with what she chooses. Full stop.

The Victorian Abortion Law Reform bill is going before the upper-house this Friday (Oct. 10) so it may at long last be acknowledged that our bodies are our own. Write to the MPs to tell them not to fuck it up with any dark-aged amendments, please. Ta.

contact MPs & tell 'em what you think here