Talking about F*ck of the Irish

EXACTLY MY SENTIMENTS!!! Go Michael ...

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F*ck of the Irish

I'm in one of those moods again. A combination of our nation's shoddy excuse for public transport, our nation's appalling weather, our nation's redundant youth and our neighbouring nation's stupid national holiday have put my in the foulest mood since that time I had two teeth pulled in one sitting.

Seriously, St. Patricks Day is not a occasion to get plastered. Surely if Patrick was a fucking Saint then he wouldn't have been much of a drinker anyway would he!? You fucking morons, St. Patricks Day is nothing more than an excuse for a piss up. As if our society of cretins and miscreants needed another reason to get utterly wankered and piss me off. I have seen precisely ZERO Irish people today. The number of moronic pricks staggering about with their Guinness hats hanging precariously onto their bobbing heads, shouting, cursing, puking and feeling each other up on the train platform has been staggering. For fuck's sake just get out of my fucking way. St. Patricks Day, what a pile of wank.

And if you are under 18 and happen to live in Godalming with "Mummy and Daddy" and care to go out to Guildford dressed as though you are grungers yet continue to talk like the bunch of fucking Ra-ras you are under all that make up, drinking vast amounts of vodka pilfered from Daddy's spirits cabinet then that's all well and good. But if you ever congregate in vast numbers on Guildford Train Station Platform 8 and 6, screaming, shouting and generally being a troupe of evil-annoying-idiot-fucks then be warned. Next time I'm just going to hijack a bulldozer and sweep you all under the next train coming into the station. Nothing would bring me more pleasure than the sound of your skulls being smashed asunder along with your preppy little iPod Nanos, and I can do that safe in the knowledge that I'm doing society at large a favour and raising the collective level of intelligence of man kind.

Don't think I forgot about you either, yeah you, the group of little bastards on the train out of Fratton. There's a special kind of hell reserved for people like you. I believe that it's a lifetime of welfare and about 20 kids. Enjoy, you little shits. I laugh at the fact that your life will be ultimately futile and worthless, that the sum efforts of your meagre time here on this Earth will amount to what I'm able to produce in 10 minutes in the bathroom.

M I C H A E L I S E N R A G E D T O D A Y