Why I Am Angry: The Pictorial Edition
Now I know there's a slight hypocrisy in me mentioning people who have Facebook accounts make me angry in my last post and me now telling you I have a Facebook account... Well, I don't really care. I've worn a scarf indoors as well. You'd probably punch me in the face if you met me. The moment that Two Angry Men gets a MySpace page, though, is when you are officially allowed to hate us.
Anyway, the Social Networking Tool that is Facebook allows us to bridge the gaps of distance as if we were standing alongside one another, to catch up with people you've not seen in years, to communicate with your friends even when they're not around and, most importantly, to call your mates a cunt 24 HOURS A DAY. Yes, the moment I allowed my friends to draw graffiti on my home-page was the moment I realised that I have the WORST friends in the world.
It starts off quite tame with this little number. I'm guessing that the deviant who drew this was really impressed with his artistic ability and that he's comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio in That Shit Movie About A Boat That Sinks.
So I insulted him back by calling him an iceberg and I get this. Strangely, this two panel sequence is actually more enjoyable than the entire of TITANIC and sums up the story in the space of five seconds it takes to scan them. Fuck you, Cameron!
Points deducted for drawing such shit stick figures and for not realising that most people aren't actually blue. This cunt thinks nothing of a slow build to the explosive finale and instead launches right into a combination of Your Mum jokes and Holocaust humour. Normally two humour topics that rarely mix, but I admire his tenacity.
This, however, is what happens when you watch the ARISTOCRATS joke performed one too many times. Note the recurring theme of Hitler appearing to one side. You see, THIS is how you do comedy.
This is just shit. I was going to give her (And yes, this was drawn by a woman) bonus points for some good pube distribution, but no... A weak effort at a Your Mum joke. What if my mum actually was a man? CARELESS MISTAKE.
An early misguided effort from another female friend. No use of illustration, just a bold statement. I have obviously blotted out my real name, just imagine it was crudely drawn too. Lacks imagination.
This is miles better, containing a piss-poor drawing of me wearing glasses (A recurring theme in most illustrations even though I barely ever wear glasses) and some quite intelligent insults. I DO have no soul, it's true, and I also DO have lots of condoms. This cut me to the quick.
This was not, in fact, drawn by the pseudonymous "Ian" character, but by another female friend (Three female friends and you still sit at home and blog? LOSER!). I am not gay. I might accidentally sashay from time to time, but I am all man. Terrible illustration, though, yet again depicting me with glasses and stupid hair.
A bit more imaginative, with its evocation of REM lead-singer Michael Stipe. Michael Stipe being the poster child for being RIDDLED with the Bad AIDS. I don't have the Bad AIDS. Or the Good Aids. I am completely free of any form of STD.
Here, I have had to be quite imaginative to cover up my job. I work in an unspecified role in television. No, I am not Trevor McDonald's fluffer. This is the kind of almost WHERE'S WALLY?-esque illustration that I would be happy to be insulted by every day. I'm tempted to get it put on a t-shirt. Notice the bones of the already dead women I have buried under my house. Notice the recurring theme of Hitler. Notice the attention to detail on the whip and the cage. Somebody spent a looong time with their quivering mouse slowly drawing wobbly lines as they masturbated furiously with their other hand. Cunt.
Any illustration where you have to type out what it actually is is a poor illustration. Also, when you write out what it is and I can't even understand your writing, you need to go back to Insult School. Also, it's factually inaccurate as I only ever take advantage of drunk girls full stop. They need not have "Big waps", merely have drunk enough to not remember my face in a police line-up.
This shows both artistic flair and an imagination. I was never attacked by a pigeon whilst eating a pork pie but I COULD HAVE BEEN. Also, I wasn't wearing spack specs when I was eating the aforementioned pork pie, but I COULD HAVE BEEN. Also, the effort that went into this female actually buying me a pork pie just to take the piss should be admired. That's dedication to insultery.
Yes, the reason why I am so angry is because of shit like this. Social network? SCHMOCIAL NETWORK!
Anyway, the Social Networking Tool that is Facebook allows us to bridge the gaps of distance as if we were standing alongside one another, to catch up with people you've not seen in years, to communicate with your friends even when they're not around and, most importantly, to call your mates a cunt 24 HOURS A DAY. Yes, the moment I allowed my friends to draw graffiti on my home-page was the moment I realised that I have the WORST friends in the world.
It starts off quite tame with this little number. I'm guessing that the deviant who drew this was really impressed with his artistic ability and that he's comparing me to Leonardo DiCaprio in That Shit Movie About A Boat That Sinks.
So I insulted him back by calling him an iceberg and I get this. Strangely, this two panel sequence is actually more enjoyable than the entire of TITANIC and sums up the story in the space of five seconds it takes to scan them. Fuck you, Cameron!
Points deducted for drawing such shit stick figures and for not realising that most people aren't actually blue. This cunt thinks nothing of a slow build to the explosive finale and instead launches right into a combination of Your Mum jokes and Holocaust humour. Normally two humour topics that rarely mix, but I admire his tenacity.
This, however, is what happens when you watch the ARISTOCRATS joke performed one too many times. Note the recurring theme of Hitler appearing to one side. You see, THIS is how you do comedy.
This is just shit. I was going to give her (And yes, this was drawn by a woman) bonus points for some good pube distribution, but no... A weak effort at a Your Mum joke. What if my mum actually was a man? CARELESS MISTAKE.
An early misguided effort from another female friend. No use of illustration, just a bold statement. I have obviously blotted out my real name, just imagine it was crudely drawn too. Lacks imagination.
This is miles better, containing a piss-poor drawing of me wearing glasses (A recurring theme in most illustrations even though I barely ever wear glasses) and some quite intelligent insults. I DO have no soul, it's true, and I also DO have lots of condoms. This cut me to the quick.
This was not, in fact, drawn by the pseudonymous "Ian" character, but by another female friend (Three female friends and you still sit at home and blog? LOSER!). I am not gay. I might accidentally sashay from time to time, but I am all man. Terrible illustration, though, yet again depicting me with glasses and stupid hair.
A bit more imaginative, with its evocation of REM lead-singer Michael Stipe. Michael Stipe being the poster child for being RIDDLED with the Bad AIDS. I don't have the Bad AIDS. Or the Good Aids. I am completely free of any form of STD.
Here, I have had to be quite imaginative to cover up my job. I work in an unspecified role in television. No, I am not Trevor McDonald's fluffer. This is the kind of almost WHERE'S WALLY?-esque illustration that I would be happy to be insulted by every day. I'm tempted to get it put on a t-shirt. Notice the bones of the already dead women I have buried under my house. Notice the recurring theme of Hitler. Notice the attention to detail on the whip and the cage. Somebody spent a looong time with their quivering mouse slowly drawing wobbly lines as they masturbated furiously with their other hand. Cunt.
Any illustration where you have to type out what it actually is is a poor illustration. Also, when you write out what it is and I can't even understand your writing, you need to go back to Insult School. Also, it's factually inaccurate as I only ever take advantage of drunk girls full stop. They need not have "Big waps", merely have drunk enough to not remember my face in a police line-up.
This shows both artistic flair and an imagination. I was never attacked by a pigeon whilst eating a pork pie but I COULD HAVE BEEN. Also, I wasn't wearing spack specs when I was eating the aforementioned pork pie, but I COULD HAVE BEEN. Also, the effort that went into this female actually buying me a pork pie just to take the piss should be admired. That's dedication to insultery.
Yes, the reason why I am so angry is because of shit like this. Social network? SCHMOCIAL NETWORK!
Labels: angry
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