I know it comes as a shock, but I don’t like Christmas either.

Holy shit, I know.  The self-involved, narcissistic, social detractor doesn’t like Christmas.  Well why the fuck would I?  It’s the most retarded time of year.  You do realise that a direct result of Christmas shopping is a rise in interest rates, right?  Every slut and their daughter heads down to the local Westfield to spend up big on the credit card (because let’s face it, love is meaningless unless you can put a dollar value on it) to prove to their children, significant other, mistress and male equivalent of a mistress just how much they love them.  It’s as if to say that your love for someone is meaningless unless it is attached to things.  “I love you so much sweetheart, I bought you this giant teddy bear.”  Congratulations, asshole.  You love your bitch so much you bought her a massive fire hazard.

Why do we even give presents at Christmas?  Does anyone even know?  What the flip does a fat man in a red suit have to do with Jesus?  It’s not like Santa is even something to aspire to when you really think about it.  A fat, old man who lives at the North Pole.  This is the kind of person we want breaking in to our houses in the dead of night to leave gifts for our children?  Does anyone even want strangers to give their children gifts?  I thought that was the kind of thing we taught our kids to steer away from.  I’ve always been taught that the kind of person that gives a child that they don’t know gifts is also the kind of person that isn’t allowed to live within 200 metres of a school (for any international readers who don’t know what a ‘metre’ is, it’s a unit of measurement that actually makes sense).

Kiddie Fiddler alerts aside, he’s still not even a good role model.  Who the fuck lives at the North Pole and then only breaks in to people’s houses at night – when they are asleep?  There is obviously something wrong with this guy.  He does everything humanly possible to escape contact with other people.  He lives in a climate that is literally uninhabitable; he only comes to your house when you won’t see him and he doesn’t hang around to get thanked for his generosity.  Worse still, every time he comes to your house he enters unlawfully.  We’re clearly dealing with someone who has a VERY extreme social anxiety disorder.  Don’t serial killers usually have those?

Finally, he’s one fat fuck.  Every depiction you ever see of Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick has him with a massive beer gut and a very untidy white beard.  He hangs out at shopping centres, but never buys anything and always smells a little funky.  So it’s worse than him just being obese (and you should all know how much I hate fat people!), he looks like a homeless Vietnam Vet as well!  No wonder small children cry when their parents sit them on his lap.  Even at a tender age they know that something is wrong with that picture!  In what other context would a responsible parent EVER let their children sit on a strange man’s lap in a supermarket and then walk off with candy that he gave them?  I’m not saying that Santa is evil and he’s gonna fiddle with your children; I’m just saying it’s a very mixed message.

It’s not just the retarded notion of gift giving and sitting on the laps of questionable ex-servicemen that gives me the shits either.  Although I do believe that Christmas is a highly commercialised industry with no basis on religious values, I do not intend to spend the entire article debating this widely held belief.  Although, having said that, I don’t really think that Christmas has much to do with Jesus or any of that shit either.  I mean, if you change the birth date of your saviour (who you’ll wind up killing anyway) to line up with the pagan festival of the people you just conquered to make the transition from one god to another a smoother period than your belief in that god obviously comes second to your belief in the idea that the more land you own the better you are.  Therefore opening your whole set of beliefs up to ridicule and speculation.  This paragraph may seem out of place, but to be honest, I just realised that I hadn’t taken a swipe at a major religious institution yet and I thought that needed to change.

My main gripe is more to do with family.  On Christmas day the whole family piles in to the old FJ and heads over to see “the relies”.  Right?  Wrong.  Although, as you would all know, I like to live in the 1950s where things were swell and I’m pretty sure an FJ did not exist, that’s not actually the world we live in.  These days you’re lucky if your parents are still married.  Actually, Scratch that.  You’re lucky if your parents have realised that they actually hate each other and have gotten a divorce to save everyone the misery of married life.  Usually this is awesome for the children.  Mum feels bad for having an affair and leaving the family so she over-spends on celebrating occasions such as birthdays and Easter.  Dad feels bad for not being able to provide a traditional, structured family unit for their children and does the same.  Translation: two birthdays, two Easters and a lot of random “I saw this and thought of you” moments.  This, of course, all comes crashing down at Christmas.  Sure, you get two Christmases too, but both of them are shit.  You spend the entire day dashing between your mum’s family, your dad’s family and if they have new spouses to abuse, their families too.  It only serves to get worse when you get older because you will inevitably date someone else from a broken home, because the only thing more fun than being miserable is being miserable with someone else.  So then you have to go to their parents’ houses as well.  Of course, they inevitably will live on opposite sides of the city that you reside in.  And every time you get to a new person’s house, the second thing out of their mouth (besides massive chunks of half chewed prawns which would kill me if they landed on me because I’m genetically weak and am allergic the only thing in the ocean that actually tastes nice) is words to the effect of, “Why are you so late?”  So what does Christmas turn in to?  One fucking long road trip with the final destination being the house you are in when you start the laborious trek through up to 10 way points of total and utter despair.  You spend your entire day driving around to houses that contain people you don’t even like who are pissed at you for being late instead of being thankful you’re there at all and all you’re trying to do is keep everybody happy while you feel your soul slowly dying.  You end up listening to all the news bulletins to try to take your mind off the fact that your air con doesn’t work and you live in the hottest city on the face of the fucking planet and every time they give you the national road toll it’s just a little bit higher than the hour before and all you can think is, “lucky bastards.”  No wonder so many people commit suicide at this time of year.  It’s not because they are lonely.  It’s because they are surrounded by people they fucking hate.

BRAD!

Denzel Washington. Greatest actor or just an angry black man?

In a world where people are famous simply for being famous, where compensation exceeds common sense and where women are allowed to vote, it’s nice to see that there are some great actors who deserve the fame that has been bestowed upon them.  Or does he?

Does anyone Remember the Titans?  A great film set in the 1960s about the justified struggle for equal rights for black and white people (even though white people aren’t really white, they’re beige, but that’s neither here nor there).  It has everything a great movie needs: contained male, adolescent violence; slow motion football highlights; a car crash; Turk from Scrubs; men coming together to overcome racial injustice; and most importantly, an acting reel for Hayden Panettiere that will later pay dividends in excess when she comes of age to be the cheerleader in distress with the power of rejuvenation.  Who can argue that this movie is not a diamond in the rough?  No one.  That’s who.  It’s a great film and if you disagree I’m going to tell everyone that you supported the goings-on at Auschwitz.

How about a little film known as Man on Fire?  A down on his luck security guard takes a low paying job protecting a rich family’s daughter played by Dakota Fanning.  He has a drinking problem and is borderline suicidal.  But through the love of a five year old girl he finds his will to live, only to die for said five year old girl.  Sensational movie…with the exception to the fact that despite the title of the film, at no point in the movie does Denzel Washington catch fire.

Finally, I give you John Q.  A touching story about a down on his luck father who’s insurance company will not pay for his son’s heart transplant.  So what does John Q do?  Well, what any decent person would – he takes the emergency room of the hospital hostage and demands that his kid get a new heart.  Fair enough.

The astute reader might have noticed an extreme lack of judgement from the author this week.  That I have held back and reserved judgement.  Well why not?  Denzel Washington is an amazing actor whose work speaks for itself.  Or does it?

Well, umm, no, to be honest.

“Oh, but his movies are always so good.  He’s a fantastic actor!”

Well, I agree with the first part of your statement.  Each of those movies is definitely worth watching.  Great stories, great characters and they all leave your heart warmed by the end.  Except for one fact.  Let’s review those movies and the characters therein.

Remember the Titans – It’s about an angry black man fighting injustice.

Man on Fire – It’s about an angry black man fighting his demons.

John Q – It’s about an angry black man fighting the system.

Shall we go on?  Indeed, we shall.

The Hurricane – It’s about an angry black man fighting other angry men (some of which are black).

Training Day – It’s about an angry black man fighting the police force.

American Gangster – It’s about an angry black man fighting poverty.

Malcolm X – It’s about an angry black man fighting whitey.

Courage Under Fire – It’s about an angry black man fighting Meg Ryan.

I put it to you that Denzel Washington is no more of an actor than Ben Stiller is tolerable.  You can hardly be called an ‘actor’ when the only character you can play is an angry black man!  Actors, traditionally play a myriad of roles.  Take John Travolta for example.  He’s been a singing greaser, a singing fat lady, the good guy, the bad guy, had his face removed, stolen nuclear weapons, done comedies, thrillers, action and tricked everyone in to thinking that Danny DeVito movies are worth watching.

So, why the fuck has Denzel Washington won the Oscar for Best Actor in a Lead Role AND an Oscar for Best Actor in a Supporting Role?  It’s a fucking joke.  You know who should be winning Oscars?  ACTORS!  Not dull, talentless schmucks who have type cast themselves in to one single role that then gets repeated over and over.  When you go to see a Denzel movie, all you’re expecting is to see an angry black man go up against some sort of injustice.  Whether it be insurance companies, bad guys on trains, bank robberies, kidnappers or police recruits makes no real difference.  You know that at some point Denzel is going to have one of those powerful scenes where the camera rotates around him as he makes some poignant speech, which will no doubt contain the words, “I’m goin’ to git mine!” and will invariably move seamlessly from irate screaming, with spit flying through the air like the fountain outside the Bellagio to a chilling whisper, which reminds me of the time my friend told me he shat his pants five minutes in to a plane flight.

It wouldn’t annoy me so much if this was common knowledge, but for some reason it’s not.  Everyone I talk to is convinced that Denzel is some sort of amazing actor.  As if he has some sort of super-human acting ability.  The only ability he has is to be infuriated.  That’s not acting, Mr Washington, that’s just yelling.  How about you shut the fuck up and fucking try your hand at a different role for once.  You’re a one trick pony and I for one am sick of it.

You’re not an actor, Denzel Washington.  You’re an asshole.

BRAD!

No One Cares About Your Little Facebook Group

Let it not be said that I don’t take on the big issues.  So far this blog has covered some pretty hard hitting, in your face topics.  Getting hit in the nuts?  Done.  The vernacular of teenagers?  Done.  Things that annoy one insignificant person in this world?  Ha!  You better believe that’s been done!  Fat people?  Served.  And now, without further adu…adui…aidu…adieu, I give you wankers on Facebook.

Every time I log in to Facebook some jerk has invited me to join some group I don’t give a shit about. ‘It’s not really a long story I just can’t be bothered to tell it,’ ‘saying “dinners ready” you go downstairs and it’s still in the oven,’ ‘I hate one word txts [sic].’  Who the fuck starts these stupid things?  You’re not funny; you’re just wasting space on the internet.  Space that could be better filled with pornography!  Against my better judgement I became a “fan” of a group called ‘Laughing When Sluts Fall Over’ because, well, lets face it: it’s hilarious when sluts fall over.  For the next week, I cop these random arse status updates asking me to vote on tattoos and shit.  If I wanted to vote on tattoos I would have joined a group called ‘I’m an idiot and want to vote on your stupid tattoos because I’ve heard that getting a neck tattoo only makes you more employable’ not a group that is allegedly about sluts tumbling down stairs.

Why the fuck does Facebook tell me when my retarded friends join retarded groups?  As if anyone gives a shit. “Blank became a fan of ‘Eating When You’re Bored.’”  Okay, I guess that answers the question about why that person is fat, but like a give a shit about her joining the group?  What am I meant to do?  “OMFG,” (I say “OMFG” because only idiots join groups on Facebook and idiots also say stupid shit in real life like O-M-F-G because they’re idiots), “Blank joined that group?  Well, like a good sheep I’d better join too!”  WRONG!  It’s not a social networking site.  All this website serves to do is highlight why I hate everyone I’ve ever met.

I just saw that one of my “friends” became a fan of a group called ‘My mum said if 2million [sic] people joined this group she would quit smoking.”  I feel like starting my own group called, ‘I hope your mum dies of cancer in front of a crowd of 2 million people.’  I won’t though.  You know why?  Because no one fucking cares about groups on Facebook.  Joining groups on Facebook just advertises the fact that you’re a fuckhead.

I guess I should give credit where credits due.  I mean, when “friends” on Facebook join retarded groups they’re doing my job for me.  It’s like, “Oh, you’re enough of a fan of ‘Laughing just because you feel like it ’ to join a group on Facebook stating as much?  Ah, awesome.  Don’t need to be seen in public with you again.”  “Oh really?  You’re a fan of ‘Boys are stupid’ that’s cool.  I’m not a fan of being friends with 12 year olds and since you have joined this Facebook group, I can only assume that you are 12.”

I thought about starting a group called, ‘People who become fans of every stupid thing on Facebook should be crucified’ but then I realised that everyone would join and I’d get nothing done because I’d be too busy nailing bastards to planks of wood all day.

If Facebook shouldn’t be used to announce to your friends how retarded you are by joining ridiculous groups such as, ‘I cannot be f*cked [sic] screwing the lid on the milk, so i [sic] just hit it’ then what should you be using it for?  Glad I asked.  Well, to be honest, should we really be using it at all?  I mean, since Facebook came along do you actually see your friends in person as much anymore?  I can think of a few people on my “friends” list that I see rarely because it’s more convenient to just message them over Facebook and to leave my various witty comments on their photos.  For a “social networking site” it sure seems to be really powerful at pushing people further apart and isolating them.  Maybe I’m just lazy?  One thing is for sure though; it allows you to share really important information with your friends very quickly.  Information like my friend (notice the absence of inverted commas this time) Matt has done with this gem: “Kings of Leon can eat shit.”  And no, I’m not taking the piss.  This is important information that everyone needs to know.

I can see your lame arse replies already, by the way.  “Hey BRAD! No one cares about your lame arse blog either.”  You read it, dumbass.  I didn’t force you.  “Hey BRAD! Your blog is wasting space on the internet too.”  Shut up dipshit, if nothing else, I occupied you for the last five minutes and stopped you annoying the shit out of someone else, because lets face it – you’re an annoying little shitface, aren’t you?

Oh yeah, one more thing…if you’re reading this and thinking, “I wonder if he’s talking about me” there’s a fair chance I am.  It’s also fairly likely that your friends don’t like you either, in fact, they started a Facebook group about it – ironically of course, but they all still joined.

 BRAD!