Jo asks…

November 14, 2011

Hi, Sweary Bear.
It hurts when I go like this.


Sweary Bear says:

Most people can do that without breaking a sweat, much less whining like a ginger-headed stepchild. Harden the fuck up.

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Fucked Rightoff asks…

November 11, 2011

“So this fucking CUNT at work has a so called medical issue which makes her cough and clear her fucking throat every 15-30 seconds. The medical problem is she’s so fucking fat her throat is even obese and choking itself to death. Meanwhile She is a rude fucking bitch to everyone and I want to see her banished to a soundproof room so we can all work in peace and not get permanent noise induced hearing loss from having headphones in and cranked to 11 to drown the cunt out.”

Sweary Bear says:

So let me see if I’ve got this right:

  1. THE PROBLEM: The person in question is coughing.
  2. THE REASON: “she’s so fucking fat”
  3. THE RESULT:  She will, as you suggest, choke herself to death.

What the fuck do you need me for?

Brook asks…

November 11, 2011

Why don’t people answer back? They ask you for quotes, they ask questions, they send emails.
You go to the bloody bother of responding, with all the thought, care and time that this entails and they can’t even be bothered responding. Even after you provoke them.

Sweary Bear says:

Pffft. You don’t really expect me to fucking answer that, do you?

Only a retarded cockroach with half a cockroach brain who dropped out of cockroach school to become a drummer could deny that the next federal election will be a fucking doozy.

It’s going to involve the kind of headline-pumping, shit-stirring, muck-raking fun that can only be had when you take an awkward, pre-programmed, charisma-free she-robot, an ousted, pissed-off, silver-helmeted hyper-nerd and a grinning wing-nutted moron from the fucking eighteenth century and shake them up in a bag.

But please, everyone, let’s not get too fucking carried away.

It will be an election, not a war.

It will involve weeks and weeks of ball-achingly dull, smarmy and blatantly brown-nosey ads mentioning ‘working families’, ‘Ma and Pa investors’, ‘who can you trust?’ platitudes and other highly concentrated bullshit.

This will be followed by an otherwise fuckwit-free Saturday being hassled at the local scout hall by partisan retirees shoving ‘how to vote’ leaflets in your face before you make a couple of half-arsed squiggles on a doona-sized piece of paper and shove it in a cardboard slot.

Election promises will not be written in blood.

There will be no actual salvos fired.

It will not be a bloodbath for the losing parties.

THIS is a fucking bloodbath.

Pull your fucking head in, spin-monkeys.