Friday 30 June 2006

I can whinge louder than all of you

I have decided after reading numerous blogs that the entire blogsphere is one big, fat, loud whinge. I have never read such pissing and moaning and bleating in my entire life. Wherever you go, it is one bastard after another complaining about politics, war, taxi passengers, restaurants, the ABC, their cat, McDonalds, globalisation, peace, ABBA, their neighbour, this, that and something else.

One is tempted to just yell, "go home and shut the fuck up", but most of these people are already at home and the loudest noise they make is the tap-tap-tapping of their keyboards.

Clearly, the profession of psychiatry is about to go over a cliff. Freud seems to have perfected the art of milking neurotic clients by getting them to lie on a couch and talk for an hour. All a shrink has to do is listen. They are about to get murdered by blogging. Once the neurotic figure out that they can type for free, and have lots of idiots listen, why pay for a shrink? Moaning, for the first time in history, is free.

Hence I have decided that my blog should include nothing constructive or useful (bar the odd recommendation about eating places to avoid) and that the whinge volume must be turned to full throttle. To paraphrase Spinal Tap, the blog has to be turned up to 11.

So let me just comment on my fellow bloggers by saying what a useless, pullulating bunch of knob pulling maggots you all are. Go buy a TV or get a sex life. The vapid, flatulent offspring of your fingers is less useful than resealable beer bottles. The dribble leaking down the wires of the information supersludgeway is drowning the world in puking snot. You'd be better off bottling the toe jam between your toes than continuing to blog - a bottle of marinated toe jam is a more fulfilling contribution to the sum of human effort than your perceived wisdom.

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