Things I've learnt to deal with people at work....

It's a daily struggle to get through the working day. The work itself is fine, like Farah Abraham, it's incredibly easy on the point of being ridiculous. It's the people that I find difficult to deal with.

I know I'm different from most, I dislike office politics a lot. I dislike gossip and talking behind people's backs, I confront situations, I speak my mind and am straight forward and as such, I've learnt some things you just shouldn't say or do....

• The loud woman at work, there's always one, when she ask outloud "what am I doing now?" this is not an invitation for you to actually tell her that she's being loud and obnoxious and asking questions outloud to gain attention and therefore recognition for being there, the only sort of recognition she's due anytime soon. Nor is it a good time to tell her she's slowly, second by seond, moving towards her death, and that the cold claw of death is coming for her. This is definately not to be followed up by yelling loudly to scare her, popping a balloon to scare her, or putting a cold hand on her should when shes not looking

• When someone asks if you think they're fat, this is not an opportunity to advise of a good midwife you know, nor should you advise that they should stay away from fish for fear they might break those sort of scales as well. This is also not a good time to start talking about how you find the merging of calves and ankles humourous when the names are merged just as much to produce the name cankles.

• When someone tells you something, this could quite easily be something devised by the empire so you can later perform your best Admiral Ackbar impersonation. It's this sort of thing that can easily drag you into office politics or gossiping later. Best idea in this situation is to look like your listening attentively while screaming a song in your head. You should also practise this so you don't have a glazed look come over your eyes, the only thing that should come over your eyes is me.

These are just a few small pointers to help you navigate the murky waters of work encounters....of course, they're my opinion and therefore right. Follow them, You'll not survive otherwise

MK

 

 

Board games to the face.

So, time to review some board games because, I'm into board games at the moment and so by association of you reading the bullshit that spills out of my mouth like an unfertilized egg from a womb, you should be into board games as well. This is an interesting word play as it has been almost a month since I last updated, and so therefore the imagery of a female monthly cycle almost fits, aside from the fact that this blog won't have cramps, moan a lot or rip your face off at the slightest provocation (this is not to say it won't rip off your face for another reason though and if you like I can send someone over to your place to rip your face off, just write your request on a twenty dollar note and send it in to me)

So first up on the chopping block:

King of Tokyo

The basis of the game is you're a huge monster who is interested in being the best moster in Tokyo. It's a dice rolling game where you're trying to get the same sort of dice rolls to perform actions to either win by victory points (this is the long way) or by smashing your large phallus into another players monsters face (The more preferred way to win the game)

It's a simple game to pick up and play and one of the filler style games. Maybe the playability is a little lackluster but as a filler game it's good to take a break from some monster game like Game of Thrones or Runebound.

A solid 8 out of 10

The Resistance Avalon

You lie. You lie through your teeth, throw false accusations across the table that said player just ate your pet parrot and is therefore someone not to trust. This is a game of logically thinking of who is on your side and who isn't.

This is almost a follow on from the game The Resistance, but with some added elements in it makes the game completely different. The basis is you are a group of people trying to overthrow the bad guys, a resistance as such (see how that worked? If you didn't, fuck you) The resistance are setting off on a series of missions and if you have suceeded at a good number of missions you will have overthrown the evil government and saved the populace who just dont care what the hell you're doing. The people that do care, is the evil government who have sent some infiltrators in your group who will try their best to sabotage your efforts. None of the "good guys" knows who these spies are. The lying starts.

I must admit, I really enjoy this game. It's a social style game and there is very much an element of subterfuge and interaction that is paramount to the play of this game, and I'm fucking awesome at that shit. I'm a little hesitant to teach my kids how to lie to my face...

9 out of 10

Dungeon Petz

So, ever wanted to control gremlins and raise some monsters?

Strangely enough, me neither. However, someone wanted to. This is the Fantasy world version of My Little Pet shop. There was places you could sell your petz, or display them and you get points and so on.

It's a worker placement game where you place down your gremlins to go and do stuff. I'll be honest, although I played the game and did stuff I can't get past the point that it was only okay. It didn't grip my attention at all. Though the displays and sellers can change here and there, it's the same series of actions and motions every turn.

a 4 out of 10

So, this will be another subject I'm going to touch on like a catholic Priest with his altar boy and if you didn't like that, you're obviously the boy.

Inside my skull is so fucking weird I should charge tickets for these insights...

There's a lot of things going on inside my head right, ehll, my close friends don't even know the internal struggle and conflicts that go on in my mind, the strange ideas and places I go to that seem so natural and yet, if I try to explain them, the words seem lost and I find myself sounding like some strange ass who is one tiny little step from crossing that line where on the other side I get my own lovely sweater which has the accesories to tie my arms at the back.

One thing that has amazed me today, is the definition of being social and the way people perceive a situation when confronted with it. Today I came into work, plugged in the iPad and turned my music on. Normally I won't do this until later in the day, but because of circumstances involving a specialist cracking my son's little finger making it sound like a Jew had just been married. He screamed, I hated myself for having to hold him down. As such though, I had had to leave work early on friday, like a whole 5 hours early and I had a bit of work to get through before they gave me more work (supposedly they've just realised how fucking awesome I am at doing my job they give me twice as much as most people anyways and fuck it if I'm not there, I'm getting either way!) So I needed to knuckle down and get rid of this shit faster than a bag of cocaine in Charlie Sheen's hands!

Yeah, Win this mofo!

Now, as people came into work (I start super early to do a specific job which has to be done for 6:45am, so naturally I'm first in) I was sitting there headphones and working away trying to get rid of the crap piling my work area, however, what they saw was I was locked away from them and was in a grumpy mood. It's the perception that I was grumpy which amuses me and made me realise just how social we are. Sure we have facebook and emails and texting, but all that's done for many of us is thirst for some sort of physical part of social interactions, hell, I'm to blame as well as I type a blog that just won't be read by anyone and quite frankly I also don't care but to me it's a way to interact socially. We have dozens of ways we can interact with each other but that physical aspect is ingrained in us so deeply that its that facety of social behaviour we crave the most, so much so that because I was working hard and was in my own little world, there are now a few people at my work place who think I'm angry with them that they aren't speaking to me now. That to me just shows they aren't the sort of people I would associate with. Their logic is so screwed its like Salvador Dali came along and shoved his creative juices into their senses, (by this I mean he face raped them like a face hugge from alien movies.) At what point did they think that if someone is angry with you, you should therefore STOP talking to them? That makes me angry, hell, angrier if I'm already angry with them?

Your logic hurts my head so badly!.....fuck it, I'm going Hulk on your face!

It's this kind of office politics that I just can't be bothered being involved in. Sure, I get dragged into it now and then, then I pull back from it all, realising just how stupid it all is.

What else is going on in my skull? I've recently started coaching a netball team. This probably isnt something normal for a heterosexual male. Netball is seen as a woman's game, but then, I coach basketball as well and I've played netball, I know how the ball is supposed to move, how the players should be moving, so at least running the girls on the day is easy, breaking the whole thing down to show the girls, not so much. But what's really going on? The fact I'm so protective of them. They're not my daughters, but in some way I think of them as MY girls. I stood up to the ex-coach AND the chairperson of the club for thse girls for the same reasoning, that they're my girls, and I'm to look after them.

I need to work out where this subtle shift in my thinking has come from. Like I said, I coach boys basketball, am I the same for them? Well, I suppose I am since I stay afterwards to make sure the kids are collected and nothing happens to them. I'm going to have to mull this shit over another time.

So, what else have I got on the cards? Well, got a painting I'm quarter of the way through, just need to finish off the base colouring and then start working in the shading, basically a dark brown mixed with the red-brown base then the dak brown then a bright red for the polar side of the darkparts then a straight black for shade and outline. I've also finished one unit of brettonians for the Cityguard club. I'm aiming to have it donw by the end of the year, then can hand it straight back to the club. I've also got a team together for Dreadball sitting on my table which I need to finish cleaning off the mold lines, then I can slap some paint on them, I'm going for a base colour, then a colour for the lights or under lighting and another colour to offset the other colours. I'm thinking a blue for the lights and a dark green for the offset colour and just a plain bone for the main colour.

otherwise, that's it. Holidays next week so I'm going to be able to do a lot of painting. For now, I'm off to fuck people off at work some more by doing NOTHING!

Say hi to your mum for me!

Further unsound takes on warmachine or the post formerly known as forcefield to face....

So, carrying on from one of my previous posts about Warmachine, the other force I'm looking at building is called the Retribution Scyrah.

Page 72 of the Kama Sutra, commonaly known as the Pretzel

I love how some sites or blogs start off trying to explain to the reader just who the Retribution is, quoting word for word the book. Odds are, the reason you found this post is because you either know me, or know of the game Warmachine. The funniest start I've seen is "What IS the Retribution of Scyrah?" My answer: Fucking awesome, because if they were etarded I wouldn't be fucking playing them? That's what they are. Awesome.

However, for those few who don't quite know Warmachine (shame on you!) The Retribution are the elves of the Warmachine. Pointy eared, lithe, graceful and adept with ranged weapons. Got the image of Legolas in your head. Great! Now incase him in some space like armour with plates. Oh, and a forcefield that protects them from harm. Oh right, and they don't really use bows, they have guns, and those that do have bows have the Rambo version which can blow up an army issue black ops helicopter by shooting it in the balls. And don't forget that theyre backed up by giant robots with bigger guns and massive forcefields and look like a sadist's wet dreams.



Talking of Sadists....

Oh, and then there are those that aren't armed with some sort of shooting device but instead have these huge gauntlets which allow them to move things and people around with the POWER OF THE FUCKING FORCE!!!!

So, who am I'm deciding on to lead these warriors of awesome? Adeptis Rahn

See those huge gloves of fuck-off-ness? That's what the boys who use the force have. Not only are they a great fashion accessory, but they allow you to use the force.....and completely demoralise your opponent when you donkey punch him. Those gauntlets should be standard issue to border patrol and drug officers from law enforcement, because after word gets out that body cavity searches are performed with those, there's no fucking way anyone will hide drugs up their asses! except for gay men.

He leads a force of jedi initiates, referred to as mittens because of the oversized gloves

Please use gauntlets with caution, may cause uncontrollable orgasms in gay men on sight...

These mofos use the force in small amounts allowing me to move the wanker I've just smashed in the face.....at distance?! And what does my boy Rahn do for these bad boys? He makes their force punches stronger?!

Now, back this bad boy up with one of the jedi knights:

and fuck your light side and dark side of the force, there is just straight up force, in your face, just how you like it.


Now, as per usual, you need a backup caster. For this I've decided on Lord Arcanist Ossyan. A caster who's intricate workings with the magics of the world and underlying scientific ability have allowed him to distort time and space.

That's right, this mofo is a living fucking TARDIS?!

He created a gun that basically causes a rift in space, causing objects for a small amount of time to be sucked closer to it. This mofo:

Has been nicknamed the time lord of Scyrah! Now I've got a big boner for Doctor Who and this sort of shit is a seller to me. I will eat this shit up and love it. Goodbye credit card, you will be dead after I'm done buying all the shit I want!

Some more people bring me close to breaking my "Not-killed-anyone" record....

The way society acts sometimes makes me want to weep for the future of humanities existence, that is, if weeping weren't such a girly thing to do and I'm so manly, the only time I get close to weeping is when my nuts get squashed by a passing tractor, which happens more than you would think, (because of their large size, ask your girlfriend to describe them, or NASA, since they're one of the many things able to be seen from space)

Some people are complete wankers when it comes to interaction on the interwebz. They believe it a shield of some sort, completely impenetrable, and in some cases, this can be true, hidden identities or with held names, but lately there's been a flood of memes and parodies pretty much making fun of black people and what they say in a particular interview.

A classic (it's the wrong word to use, since classic brings to my mind something good and something that people will want to listen to over and over again, unlike these less than stellar concoctions) was Antoine Dodson:

Hide yo kids, hide yo wife.... Because of this, a new age dawned of making fun of events where people have been interviewed, more typically, black people.

Now, don't get me wrong, Antoine Dodson saved his younger sister from an intruder in her bed, but he began a horrible trend of 'hilarious black people' like Sweet Brown:

The woman was escaping from her burning apartment. Yes, some of what she says and the way she says it is funny, but for fucks sake, the viral rap song about her "hilarious" interview has overshadowed the fact that she barely escaped with her life?!

And the latest "sensation"? Charles Harris. A man who helped rescue three woman who had been held captive for a decade. His video has become so viral, that in many cases people don't even know the heroic actions this man has undertaken:

 

The sad thing is how his so called comical performance is starting to overshadow his heroic act.

The one common and sad factor in this is the trend that these troubled individuals seem to be representatives of the working class people of America and that there seems to be an underlying tone that people just want to see these black under class people perform.

People make me sick sometimes....

MK

My unsound take on warmachine....

Perhaps you've read my post about my disillusioned state with Games Workshops Warhammer fantasy game? No, perhaps you're an uneducated douche?

I'm not stating that to be educated you needed to have read my posts, not at all, what I'm saying is that you're a douche if you haven't. I'm not going to link the post here, in fact, fuck you, sit in ignorance like your family before you and take the blankets and beads you're offered and realise just how stupid that move was. Fuck your stupid treaty, you're pissing the assets away anyway.

So, I'm disillusioned with a game and like any good addict, I've got a new drug, or in this case, more in mind. However, so I don't become disenchanted with them by the time I've written this post, I'm going to only touch on one of them for now. Warmachine and Hordes, or as the general populace of geekdom call it, Warmahordes. Actually, what I'm going to touch on is my choices of armies to play for this game because this is my blog and therefore, I am the centre of this universe.

So, I've got 2 armies in mind. First up (and the one I'm covering in this post) is:

Skorne

So what I like about Skorne is the whole feel of the army. The slow methodical thought process behind it. Of huge beast like tanks plodding forward and not stopping for anything. But in this is the secret of their game. You can play like this, slow and methodical and yeah, you will get outmaneuvered, but there is a lot of synergy within the army itself that allows for this slow methodical grinding machine to suddenly haul balls to you like a scene from Limitless, placing a well honed penis in the asses of your opponents. (This scene was in Limitless, it's on the "Director's Cut" or as he puts it, personal home movie.)

And the models reflect this kind of mental imagery. You think of slow methodical tank like animals and you get what they call the Titans. A race of massive creatures, a lot like our own elephants, if our elephants could walk on 2 legs and look like a wrestler who's amping on steroids......which admittedly is just a wrestler...

And then as these behemoths grow in size they become like a large gorilla, no, not hanging off the side of the empire state building swatting at airplanes, but a large male gorilla seen in the mists raping small reporters who have been lulled into thinking it's safe to be in the mist with them. So these huge Titans, already a reckoning become a Bronzeback. A large wall of fury and hate, looking like Mr T but with better avenues of continuing a supposed acting career.

The imagery of some sort of monolithic juggernaught bearing down on you, tusks ready to skerwer you and backed by those huge freaking arms, and it's hard to see from this angle, but they have SIX of them?! So what sort of person can control this sort of creature? Som strong willed charismatic being who charms his way through life? No.

Meet the Paingivers.

These sadistic bastards are like an ex-wife. They love nothing more than whipping at their beasts, driving them further and further foward through their whips and torture devices. outside of the battle field their purpose is to break beasts, to make them willing and obediant servants. Actually, forget ex-wives, these fuckers are like your mother. Except I'm not pimping out these guys. Think about that for a second as your mother scathes you with her viciosly barbed words, I'm getting other guys to fuck her. Feel better? good, you weren't supposed to.

Skorne basically thrive on pain. Sick, twisted masochistic and sadistic wankers who feel the only way to true enlightenment is through pain. Basically the thought process behind cutters and suiciders worldwide. I like this, it appeals to me in a sick way. I'm all about being sick, like that time I vomited on a dead horse to warm it up before getting my cock into it.


So, the emphasis behind Warmahordes is the caster. Each caster is different in their own respects and changing casters can in fact change the entire way your army works. To mitigate the rock paper scissors style of gaming that can occur, at most tournaments you write 2 lists and can choose which list to play. Having said that, I've chosen my 2 casters.

This is what your Mum sees late at night when I'm with her, big beatsticks in hand

Meet Tyrant Xerxis. He likes hugs, long walks on the beach, sunsets and absolutely smashing your face in with his beat sticks. His play style is basically, move forward, take hits, shrug them off and smash you. In the face, which is where he has now placed your genitals. You are now a dick face.

He plays with a few warbeasts, and ensures his units and squads are able to work autonomously while he marches forward to go hit someone. He has anger issues. He's dealing with them in his own way. His style of play is one of attrition and slaughter. Kill more of them while soaking up enough damage from them to still be operational.

My counter point to Xerxis is the above. Hexeris. He looks to be more of a warbeast heavy style of play where I can get multiple threats going and hit an assassination run (if the caster is killed, that person loses) He plays completely differently to Xerxis, enough that he may even be able to mitigate some of the weaknesses of him.

So, that's what I'm looking at running. Fun huh?

MK

...he has control?!

Now, for anyone who has read any of my previous posts, the assumption is is that I'm the sort of person who has no problem speaking my mind, in fact, the problem would be actually stopping me from speaking my mind on some occasions. I am opinionated and I have no problems voicing these opinions. But there are occasions when even I fall silent, where what I truly want o say freezes in my throat. That happened tonight.

So the scene, more realistic then shorthand street or any other crappy mind shitted drama. I was catching up with a friend. In my younger days, or even those people who are emotionally uneducated,  would have called it a date, I'm older now, I'm more mature now, I now a situation for what it was and this was just a catchup.

However, at one point we were heading towards an eatery and she stated how excited and nervous she was going to this place as it was what she termed "naughty food" I mentally disagreed with this statement as the thought of a burger fucking me in the mouth wasn't completely a happy thought I said outloud how I was nervous coming to hang out with her. She asked why and I choked.

Now we've discussed this before, this friend and I, about past feelings and so forth. I had a crush on her when we were younger and still do now, but I'm an adult now, I can control such urges and so forth, and being an adult sucks old hairy man balls. That's why I was nervous, because I still want to prove things to her, that although I have a rough side I'm still likable, that in some way I'm still a viable choice, but ultimately this is the biggest lie. There was a brief moment when I may have been a  viable choice, but looking back now I see how truly broken I was back then.

I don't even understand how I became that way. It was a decade of brokenness and shattering of dreams and realities that until the last few years I managed to crawl out of. And so now, with this friend I have one of the moments where I kind of wish I had said something. A moment of regret in a way. Logically of course it would have been a bad idea, because the awkwardness it would have caused would have ruined the rest of the night, so in a way, I'm also relieved I managed to contain my inner voice for once.

So, many will try to read between the lines of what I'm saying and quite frankly, that's fucking annoying, stop it. The main context of this post is this: Even if you love someone there is nothing wrong in my opinion to like someone else. It's the enactment upon those feelings that are the downfall. I didnt act. I'm fucking awesome. You all think so as well.

Fuck adulthood and maturity sometimes.

MK

And now for something completely different...

I've been playing Warhammer on and off now for around 15 years. Who knew on that fateful day when my friend Lumpy invited me along to his friends house to "play a simple little game" that he was going to introduce to me the gamers style of crack in the form of warhammer. I swear, I should have melted those god damn models down right there on the spot and made like a Disney kid star and snorted that shit up then and there and gotten it over and done with.




What every little girl should aspire to. Crack whore



But no, that option wasn't available to me at the time, something about the simple fact that they weren't my models and supposedly ownership means something here, (just ask the maoris about water) and so it was that I was drawn into the drug of Warhammer and ultimately miniature wargames.

Now, I'll admit, I've never actually chosen an army to play. When I first started playing, I think it was 5th edition I orginally chose Orcs and Goblins. I mostly chose it because the boys had the book and it meant that my broke student ass didn't have to fork out for something. The orcs and goblins lasted about a year. By the end of that year I was throughly sick of animosity and low leadership which had become a recurring theme in my games. I suddenly felt like Gilligan. Stuck on an island and the closest action I was getting was from the fat captain. I wanted off that fucking island!

So it was that I dropped them and not so broke I picked up the next book the boys had and some miniatures for. Dwarfs. Now some people will point out just how terrible a move this was. If Warhammer was a mix of drugs, where the most intoxicating armies are the worst of a drug style world, Dwarfs would be counted around a light shandy area. Dwarfs are the non-alcoholic beer of the drug world of warhammer. But, and this is the important part, we already had the book and enough models to field two thousand points of forces. All it needed was painting.

Now, this is the shit that drags me in everytime. Painting. I'm full of myself, granted, I love what I do and how I do it and painting and art, that's what I'm so fucking great at I could rub my balls against a canvas and create a master piece. So when I heard something needed painting, like a fucking masochistic Austrian I proceeded to gather my equipment and see what sort of crap I could pull out of my awesomeness which if anyone knows me, is my penis.

And so I started painting. Then a new edition came out and so I purchased the new book. 3 years later I had managed to quadruple the size of the dwarf army along with the help of my friend Blom who was also addicted to this shit and was snorting it all up like it was going out of fashion and there was nothing better todo then make like a red headed actress.



Living the dream

I started playing dwarfs and became quite good at it to the point I started a horde style army before hordes were even known, proving that I was so great that even designers of games I played wanted to be like me. But the kicker is, I never wanted to actually play them. They were there. They were easy, like your Mum, but they weren't what I desired to use, again, like your Mum. It was the painting that did it for me and so I finished them off, stepped away, placed them on a shelf to gather the dust while I flipped the bird and proceeded to go find another army to rape.

That's when my friend Blom kicked in. Like I said, he was like a drug addict in a pharmacy and a doctor had signed a whole script book for him. By the time I had completed the dwarf army he had amassed enough models to field a sizeable Wood Elf army. Don't fucking roll your eyes at me! Beggars can't be choosers. If I was desperate enough to beg and live on the streets, if some asshole with a fake toupe came and asked me to suck his cock in the street for a dollar, well, I'd be gobbling on that wankers cock faster than he could say, "You're fired!"



No no no! Use your teeth more when you're bobbing on my man meat!



So, I started painting the Woodies. It took a year on and off because I have this whole life thing that keeps getting in the way of things and during that year I took the woodies to a tournament or two and played with them as regularly as I could. I found that after the first few games, that what I should do is bend forward and touch my toes after applying lube to my rear exit. It makes the shafting just so much easier.

And so, I have become disillusioned with Warhammer as a game. Look past the huge price rise within the southern hemisphere. Look past Games Workshop trying to completely monopolize miniature wargaming and failing. It's the static fundamentals of the game that just seem to completely make me flaccid.

Warhammer to me has always been explained as a number of forces gather armies and vie for position upon a board and try to outnumber key elements and capture the board itself. That's how I've always envisioned it.



 

I've had arguments with people before about the so called great tactics of the Warhammer game. They explain chaff. I then advise the way to beat Chaff is with shooting or other chaff. The game then breaks down into this stupid idea of small scouting forces baiting each other. This makes my above vision not only wrong but completely irrelevant. Perhaps it's the so called meta of NZ, with the sudden inclusion of so much chaff.

They then state the movement tactics, I then state that movement is fine, I have a movement army and if I really wanted to, I could NOT engage in any sort of combat for the entire game. I could continue to bait and weave and shoot at my foes. I'm not going to win. I may be able to pull out a draw and my opponent is going to look at me and stab me in his mind. That shit hurts. Movement doesn't really account for shit, especially since all movement will really do for you is make you look like a prick and eventually you will have to charge. This is the real problem. All the units that can have this great movement ability, that can dance and weave, are about as strong as wet paper bag.

Then there is what I call the Auto Includes. Certain armies have them and I dislike them. A level 4 wizard so you can 6 dice roll spells which completely changes the whole meta of the game. I dislike that I feel the need to try to include a level 4 wizard. Fuck your auto includes, it's making my game rubbish for having to add it in.

So, I haven't thrown in the towel of warhammer fantasy as a game, but I dare say the next army I play, which at this point is looking to be Warriors of Chaos, may be my last warhammer army. The crap rule system, the non existent tactics in many cases is just not making the game appealing to me at all. I've been looking at other and better games (This is my opinion and as stated somewhere bfore, should be your opinion)

Anyways, Fuck you warhammer

MK

Some people bring me close to breaking my "Not-killed-anyone" record....

I hate general statements, but this post is making me use one. It's ok, I've come to terms with this by using this blog post as a whore. Not just any whore but a whore who has been brutally slaughtered just minutes before I had my way with her, I've paid my money, I'll get my product bitch! she is also a horse.

Try that disturbing picture. Bestiality AND Necrophilia. It's an amazing scene and should be written down.....but Stephanie Meyers has already shit out that and served it on a silver platter for women everywhere to eat up. Don't get me wrong, the storyline itself was fine (yes, I've read the Twilight series!) but the actually writing, the structure, the vocabulary, was like some alien cockroach being shoved into my brain. Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahn!

So, the statement? Some people in this world suck and are douchebags. (You will fall into this category at some time. I do as well, but I'm so fucking awesome I don't count. You do. Stop being suck! Unless it's my cock you're aiming for)

These people fail at being human, for instance:


NZ Drivers
Another general statement, but screw it, this post is going to be full of them, like I'm full of awesome, and by logic since I spread awesome by jizzing on people, the fact these general statements are coming out is by jizzing on readers....admit it, you like that.

The things that piss me off here is the following too closely. So closely it's like I'm all for fucking gay marriage that the only way you could get further up my ass is with some lube and beware if I brake too quickly or that motherfucker is going to plough the rear of my car like I'm a Thai Lady boy.



Worst hood ornament ever!



Indicators. Use them, they're not optional.

When people assume I'm fucking Charles Xavier and can read their mind, sweeping in the lane in front of me like their popeye arm has suddenly had a spasm from jerking off too much, ensuring that my leg has to knee jerk so I don't rape the back of your car with mine, that annoys me. Don't do that. I will fuck you in the mouth. With my car. Use your indicator, it's not a fancy little lever on the side of your steering wheel, it has more use then as a tool to practise fellatio on.



 

Hey kids, if you jerk off everyday, you can get arms like this too!

 

Impatience. Well done fucker, edging forwards continuously saves you a whole second! You managed to change lanes at the lights and gain another second retard? well done! With all this time you'll be able to do......nothing, because you're a fucking douchebag. Oh, and as for those fuckers who go right to the end of lane that is ending on the motorway because the traffic is going slower then normal? Yeah, asshats, you are the reason traffic is going slower as you try to squeeze into the non-existent gap at the end. People like you probably lie on their tax returns, steal from charities and sleep with their own mothers, who have been dead for 15 years.



 

There are licensing rules for a reason. So that the amount of suck and stupid you spread into the world is minimized. Maybe if we start removing safety labels Darwin's laws can kick in and futire generations can be saved from such absurdities as yourself. Better yet, go pick yourself up a Dodge Ram 1500 which has had the worst assessments for side, rear and front impact crashes and a high rolling rate. It's a lot like your girlfriend who gets a lot of rear impacts from me as I roll her over to a more pleasing position, one where I can't see her face.

Fuck your stupid driving

MK

....Yeah, I've been screwed on more than one occasion...and not just by your Mum

I finished painting another army.

Now, you'd be correct in thinking it looks like pure awesome, but you'd be incorrect in thinking I just shot my jizz all over it. Don't get me wrong, the miniatures look awesome, but I usually just save shooting my wad all over something for your mum....or if he plays his cards right, your dad. (I'm not for or against gay marriage, and I'm jizzing on YOUR Dad, I'm not the gay one!) Either way, I feel my paint job looks pretty good and along with the display board, it looks freaking awesome, like if some sort of fictional character like doctor who were to try simple but stupid jokes...



And for his next impression, a blow up doll

Aaaaaaanyways, I had some insights, I was going to say interesting but let's be honest, this whole blog is fucking interesting like seeing some sort of virgin looking whore (read high school student) or even a more upper class whore (read college student) at the supermarket, it's the interesting that every guy becomes in any product on that aisle the said whore happens to be on


Hey, Mum & Dad.....you failed at parenting

So, I'm going to break down some sayings that appear alot in the miniature painting world:


Cutting

This isn't what you think. You don't automatically become sad and depressed when entering miniature painting. Actually, in many circles this could be seen as sexual suicide or the equivalent there of, because unless you've managed to fool someone long enough that you've become an integral part of their life like some sort of 2 foot long tapeworm, there is little chance you will find some lovely female who will look at your modelling stuff and not start laughing at you, so maybe starting miniature painting does make you sad and depressed....which explains a lot

Anyways, this is the process of clearing away flash lines and tabs from a model using a cutting device, stanley knife, clippers, modelling saw, my wit and intelligence, a light saber and in some cases, a welding torch. However, it doesn't matter what sort of device you use, you will end up looking like some try hard emo kid as invariably said cutting tool will immediately try to attack any digit it possibly can. It will bleed, and unless you're manly and awesome like me, you will cry. I don't cry, I had my tear ducts removed and inserted into a box, which I have sealed tight. They may or may not still be there....more likely not because that fucking cat was still in there and the bastard has to eat something. (fuck that bastard shrodinger)

Now, it would be cool if you managed to slice your finger off, or made the cut so deep you hit bone, or even had to have stitches, but no, it's the lite version of cut fingers, flesh wounds and superficial cuts. The diet pepsi of wounds. Even paper cuts seem worse than the type of cuts miniature painters get.


yeah, that shit needs to be amputated, preferrably just above the balls. No more reproduction of sad pussies like you

Pinning

Again, the name doesn't seem to refer to what it should be. I say pinning and there are assholes out there that think of pinning naked models to the walls, which seems stupid to me, it's much easier to jizz on their faces on a lower level, say, on the floor, still in the book or stapled to the back of some chicks head who is too ugly to look at......yep, that's why your Grandma rubs the back of her head all the time.

Anyway, this is using a small drill to drill a hole into a miniature so you can insert a metal rod into two pieces and make them less likely to seperate or break. What actually happens is that no matter the thickness of the miniature it will be difficult to start, until you get to past a certain depth, then the drill gets the same idea as a blade when cutting that it smashes it's way through the miniature like an indian curry through your digestive system and homes in on your closest digit.

Whereas cutting, slices the finger, pinning allows the drill to make a small hole in your digit not unlike the black hole that allows Roseanne Barr to continue eating. You then have to reverse the drill before you rip your finger apart like some virgin's hymen on my cock, which causes even more pain. You will cry. Like a pussy.

Yes, I said Roseanne Barr



Superglue activator

This is one of those bullshit products that assholes try to push onto you like some form of STD. Obviously some wankers have bought into the product like some pretentious shithole as it seems to have stayed the initial shiny stage.

Not only is he pretentious, he fucks your grandmother




Superglue activator is supposed to increase the rate that superglue bonds with any given objects. I have a form of this product. It's called my bare flesh. I swear to god, as soon as superglue touches any form of my skin, any other object that touches that spot is instantly bonded and will rip off several layers of skin from one finger during seperation. Some clever cock (not me sadly) took this ripped off flesh and ground it into a fine powder and added water. This shit will keep anything together, yep, add some to your parents marriage.




Happy my ass....

Superglue is the cunt of products in the miniature painting world. The bottle tries to block up, it will more often than not bond your flesh to a miniature or surprise sex your anal cavity like some jail brute. Welcome to prison bitch!

With these pitfalls, it's a wonder anyone survives the miniature painting business.....but fuck, I'm a man amongst men, this shit is my everyday

Say hi to your Dad for me

MK

Play with my food? I'm having a debate with the bastard!

Cracked.com is a sexy sexy procrastinating beast. If it were a real tangible thing, and actually a sexy beast, not only would I be looking for a way to meet it, but looking for a state where beastiality is not only legal, but encouraged.....like Hamilton, or the US version, Arkansas.

Now that we've got the picture of me making sweet sweet love to some sort of exotic animal (emphasis on exotic, I live in NZ so can sleep with all manner of farm animals, I want a change of pace for MY mental images thanks) Cracked had me thinking yesterday. One of the recent articles I've read was fantasy worlds people would like to live in and why it would suck.....well, I think that's what it was called?!

So, the premise is, a fantasy world, like the marvel universe, which people think would be cool to live in, but then they point out that it would be bad to live in said universe, because there are only 3,000 heroes and 6 billion people at least in the world, which means you only have a 1:60,000 chance of having super powers and would instead, more likely be a normal pleb whose car just got thrown at the army tank by a rampaging hulk, and you have to call the wife that you're going to be late home.


Superman? more like Super Dick-fuck-your-insurance-premiums-in-the-face-man

 So, one of the worlds they brought up was Disney's world of singing and dancing. Where the good guy always wins and the bad guy gets what he's deserved (which to me sounded like the bad part because there is little chance I'm one of the good guys.) Anyways, the bad point they pulled up was that in a world where everything is alive and sings and talks, when it comes to dinner time, it makes it that much harder to eat something that an hour ago was singing along with you to the latest tune from Elton John, (which I believe involves a hidden penis......and not just in the movie if you know what I mean! If you don't I mean that Elton John is going to ass rape you for fun. Hide that penis sparkly man!)

So I started thinking about this. The implications of eating Lucy Lamb who only a couple of hours ago was dancing and singing, admittedly, I didn't care, lamb is lamb dude, and cooked just right with some mint sauce....anyways, green peace type groups might have a problem with my eating of a sentient life form. Then again, going vegan wouldn't help as many inanimate objects in the disney world suddenly spring to life and sing in perfect harmony. So, I thought, what if we get these singing and dancing animals and objects to sleep with their own siblings. This would cause the increase of retarded children. mutant type animals and objects that wouldn't dance and sing. It would be that fine line of sentient life in my opinion.

I would eat this mofo with Horse radish, or maybe some sort of thousand island sauce!

Then I started thinking, well, in many movies, whole groups of animals and objects don't talk or sing, but act like normal animals, take birds for instance, none of THEM sang to Belle. So there must be whole pockets of the world that animals wouldn't sing or dance. Would the same peace groups boycott the eating of said non-talking livestock? Would the talking ones start their own group to boycott?

Then I started thinking about the non-talkers were in fact just actors and actresses, minor non talking parts, which brought me to a whole new way of looking at the world as one like ours, but where everything was alive.....I kind of freaked a little, I think my TV was looking at me funny....

anyways, MK out.

....What women shouldn't wear...

So, I've heard on the radio and seen on the television what women dislike to see men wearing or what men shouldn't wear and what they should wear, so I thought on this and figured, women need a guy as well. Now, what makes me qualified to give this assessment you might ask? If you just did, you're a prick and should eat tacks, I'm a guy. Self opinionated granted, but that's my qualifications right there. I have my own opinion and for once, they're going to be aired and either I'm so fucking awesome, or full on my own shit, but by the end of this, you'll agree with me on some of these points.

The only person who looks good in red lipstick is a clown.
Ohhh, broad statement. Bite me. Basically the title says it all, but unless you're suddenly investing in whitewash, alcoholism, hepatitis and Aids, you shouldn't wear red lipstick as a fashion statement. And by red lipstick, I mean all forms of red lipstick. You can call it Revlon red , China Red or Chinese Red, Poppy, Blood Red, Candy Apple Red, Matador Red, Cherry, Really Red or Lipstick Red, guess what? it's still fucking red and you still look like you need to be in a circus. I love these product companies. Not only do they compete with each other making the exact same colours and naming them differently, but they also have some of the most screwed up names in the world. Really Red? Lipstick Red? There's a Revlon Red as well, which was shortened from Basically-we-are-going-to-bend-you-forward-and-rip-you-a-new-asshole-with-this-Revlon-lipstick-which-is-red. You want to wear lipstick, fine, let it compliment your own skin tone for fucks sake.The best person who wore red lipstick is:


Joan Rivers wished she looked this good

The muffin look worked for one person only.

Basically the Muffin look is where you go out and by hipster jeans that are skinny and also a size, if not two sizes too small for you. I see this look and have this huge urge to sharpen my butcher knife and trim the fat. Why do some people feel this look is acceptable. It's not accepted in many parts of Mongolia, having that much excess fat drooping over your belt line is a crime there. They could use that excess fat to light candles, power small energy centres or feed the hungry people of India. The Muffin look or muffin top was actually a fashion move that went wrong. In an attempt to make a woman's midriff look longer and thinner they came up with a tighter waist and lower waist to make the midriff look lean. Guess what? It failed and is now a testament that women will wear anything, no matter how insane. Don't wear jeans that are too small for you and are too low. Hipsters are fine, if they are your size, otherwise, leave the muffin look at home or I swear if I see you in the street, I will get some hot piping tea and pour it on you, because that's what goes well with muffins

You are not a rapper or gangsta.
Baggy clothes. The bane of any mans erection. You know who looks good in Baggy Clothes? Katie Holmes, but that's because she's horrifically ugly and the look is an improvement. This goes double for Joan Rivers. Basically if you don't want to have some guy turned on by you, or perhaps you wanted to not have sex with any man in the world ever, wear baggy as hell clothes, it works better than joining a convent. Don't be a rapper or gangsta, they get killed, it's true, I'll prove it to you when I see you dressed as MC No Boner again.

Stop trying to look pregnant, unless you are pregnant in which case, stop going out
Maddox said it best:

You want to look pregnant, get knocked up, it's the best and most reliable source of looking pregnant since forever, but wearing shit like this, just not on. You want us to get trim, look muscular, wear clothes so you can ogle us, guess what? we want to ogle you as well, and I don't get turned on looking at curtains, if I did, I'd have a problem at operatic productions, the movies and my grandmother's house.

Crocs are moulded shit and made from babies
Don't wear crocs. They're horrible, ugly, smell and fucking retarded. Enough said

So, five things women shouldn't wear from a self opinionated guy who's sick of being told what he should and shouldn't wear by self opinionated women.

Screw your opinion women!!

MK



PS: No, those weren't my pictures but I find when I hear some self riteous cow on the radio telling me what men should and shouldn't be wearing I do appear a lot like the first picture....

...ask her, she likes it in her eye.

I've been thinking lately about starting a blog. I'm sure there's better opening lines then that but quite frankly, if you think you could do better, fuck you, in fact, fuck you with a 10ft pole sideways and that's bonus fucking geek points for me for the geek reference right there! Which of course allows me to increase one of my stats, I'd normally choose charisma, but I'm awesome looking, so much so, girls pay me to cum on their faces, just ask your mum.

I'd be lying if I said I had even been working on this for a while now, in fact, I'm so fucking awesome, I've been working on this blog for a couple of days now, I'm surprised I don't shit pure awesome so other people can collect it up and use it as currency. Small African tribes talk about me and just how awesome I am. Talk is maybe too strong a word, small African tribes click about me, which is ten times better than being tweeted about?

So, as you've probably already guessed, this isn't going to be one of those blogs which you can safely show to your kids, unless your kids are used to these sorts of profanity, in which case I assume you live in south auckland and are viewing this on a computer you've either stolen or are in the act of stealing. Now there's a strange thought, some manky looking kid,  his clothes hanging off his ass in preparation for his initiation as a prison bitch later in life, reading this blog (well, except for the big words which he'll need help for) while he steals a computer. Yep, I'm already hip. So, I'm not going to hold back, I'm opinionated, self obsessed with my own importance, with a high assessment of myself. That's right, I'm awesome and the only way you can get this awesome is by a direct infusion from myself, so if you want some of this cool, make like your mother and open your mouth. You don't want to know what your dad did for me.

Now, what's going to happen is I'm going to post about topics at the time that they interest me. Warhammer, tabletop role playing games, board games, my own opinions and even just my own insights, which quite frankly should be your insights. It's going to be fairly chaotic what comes out as I do different things. I can't just only paint and play warhammer, I think that's psychotic. I play and paint all different things and as such I'll be talking on different subjects. I'd ask the audience or at least my readers what sort of topics they want me to cover, but I'll be honest, I don't expect readers, I don't require to have an audience, one day I may, but until then I'll write what I like when I like. I won't have a schedule, like I said, when I like.

So, where to from here? In what ever fucking direction I want to.

Say hi to your mum from me.

MK