Why We Are Angry: The List (Part Three)

A while back DasGeordie and myself posted a long list of things that for some reason or another made us “angry”. My list was comprehensive but twas just the tip of the iceberg so I have decided to create another list. Viddy well fuckos!

Len Wiseman, Len Wiseman’s severe lack of talent, the fact that Len Wiseman gets Kate Beckinsale’s twat in his face every night, early nights, late nights, early mornings, getting to work late, getting to work early, getting to work to find out you have switched desks and now have to sit next to a girl with a brain the size of a peanut, shit with half eaten peanuts in that rips your ring to shreds the next morning, the recent Nicholas Cage film NEXT, Nicholas Cage’s erratic hairstyles, hairstyles, the fact I have no fucking hair, the fact that I get called Friar Tuck on an embarrassingly regular basis, Chris Moyles, the fact that Chris Moyles considers himself hot shit just because he’s written two shitty fucking books about his fat fucking life, people that read books, people that read at all, people who think it’s fine to sit in a pub with a glass of water ALL FUCKING NIGHT and take up the seats, students obviously, getting pubes stuck in my foreskin, foreskins in general, the price of bread these days, the price of everything these days, children, people who have children then don’t bother bringing the little cunts up properly so they end prowling the streets spitting on disabled people, disabled people, disabled people who milk fuck out of the system, the system, Brett Ratner and anything remotely associated with him, Guy Richie and anything remotely associated with him including his hagged old cunt of a wife, the fact that The Spice Girls are reuniting, the cost of Blu-ray movies, the stupid fucking Blu-ray vs HD DVD war that will go on for fucking ever, migraines, my brain, the fact that I have been too lazy to put up the blinds in the bathroom so if I have a wank in the shower in the morning the entire fucking apartment block would be able to see, the fact that I’m too lazy to go to the gym, gyms, smug cunts who go to the gym and go on and fucking on about how good they feel......FUCK OFF, chest pains, foot pains, back pains, pains in the arse, arseholes, anal sex, Jamie Oliver, the thought of Jamie Oliver having anal sex, having flashbacks from my childhood reminding me what a massive cunt I was, walking down the street and seeing someone you know about 500 meters in front of you who then acknowledges you but then you have a really awkward walk towards them not knowing where to look for some reason, taking a piss just after you’ve had a wank / fuck and it sprays all over the fucking toilet walls, public toilets, walking to work on a Monday morning only to find that several filthy cunts have left a puke minefield for you to navigate, slugs, stepping on slugs, stepping in shit, shit, Harry Knowles, the thought of Harry Knowles taking a shit, the thought of Harry Knowles having anal sex with shitty slugs all over him, Christmas, the fact that adverts for Christmas now appear on TV in fucking June, the thought of fucking June Whitfield, the thought of fucking June Whitfield up the arse whilst Brett Ratner and Harry Knowles watch and smear slug shit all over themselves.

I need help

EDIT: We are available for children's parties by the way.

Two Angry Men Meet Brett Ratner

Well, a big thank you to all of our readers who gave so generously to the Two Angry Men Charity Foundation enabling DasGeordie and myself to succeed in winning ‘Dinner with Brett Ratner’ on Ebay. With a bit of last minute re-mortgaging and mugging we managed to raise the $15,800 needed to meet the cunt that made the RUSH HOUR TRILOGY.

We arrived in Los Angeles at 5.45pm yesterday and took a taxi straight from LAX to the restaurant where we would be meeting the man himself. I have to just quickly say that security is a bit wanting at American airports these days. We managed to get through with a machete, an M16, a tazer gun, a flame thrower and an array of rusty dildos without so much as a glance from the authorities. Stupid cunts. Anyway, we arrived at KFC at 7pm and there he was. Brett Ratner. I’ll start off by saying that he’s a right short arse. And fat. And he’s a total cunt. He did however make one fatal mistake in meeting us two. He had no security with him. Ha! We sat down and DasGeordie secretly turned on the dictaphone in his pocket. Here’s how it went down.

Brett Ratner: Hi guys. So, you wanted to meet the genius who made RUSH HOUR 1,2 and 3 as well as X-MEN 3 eh? You must think I’m the schizzle to pay such a large amount of money just to sit with me for a couple of hours.

Me: Yeah, something like that mate.

DasGeordie: We wouldn’t have missed this for the world Brett.

BR: So, what do you guys wanna ask me about?

Me: Erm, here’s a question for ya mate. How the fuckity cunt did you manage to fuck up X-MEN 3? You literally fucked the franchise up the shitter. You some sort of cunt or something?

DasGeordie: And FAMILY MAN was fucking shit as well.

Me: And AFTER THE SUNSET.

BR: Hey guys, what’s with all the hostility?

Me: Up yours fatso. Making one RUSH HOUR film is cunty enough. But 3! Despicable cunt. (Getting out my tazer gun and blasting Ratner in the chest) TAKE THAT YOU FUCKING TWAT-CLANGER!

BR: AAARRRGGGGGHHH!!!

DasGeordie: Hahahahahahah! Fucking mint! Oi Crabman, grab his legs and I’ll kick the cunt in the head several times.

Me: No fucking worries mate. (grabbing Ratners legs and pulling him to the ground)

SMACK! BOING! CRACK! BANG! WALLOP! CRASH!

BR: Uhhhhhh...........hel.................p...............crazy.................people.

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SLAG! (getting my machete out and chopping Ratners fat fucking arm off)

CHOP!!!

BR: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!

DasGeordie: Crabman, throw us the flame thrower and I’ll scorch his fucking balls.

Me: DO IT!

BR: No........please.........I....beg........Rush......Hour......was.......

DasGeordie: EAT THIS!

WHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!!!!

BR: AARRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHH!!! FUUUUUUUUCK!

(sounds of DasGeordie and myself continually kicking the shit out of Ratner. For an hour)

Me: You had enough Brett? Got the fucking message? You make one more film and we’ll come back and finish the job. Know what I mean? Fat cunt! Come on DasGeordie, we’ve got a plane to catch.

(DasGeordie gives fat boy one last kick to the temple and we leave the sobbing prick in a puddle of his own shit, piss and blood)

Not such a big shot now is he. I have to say that was the best $15,800 we have ever spent so a big thank you to all who donated so generously. You made the world a better place.


Ratner earlier today

Why I'm Angry: The Pictorial Edition

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!

Why We Are Angry: The List (Part Two)

DasDeordie has set the ball rolling with things that make us truly angry but I thought I would add my two cents just for the fact that I am in a fucking shit mood. So, here's my starter list.

Johnny Borrell, people who like Johnny Borrell, Kirsten Dunst for shagging Johnny Borrell, Johnny Borrell's mum, banks, banks that keep asking you if you need a bigger overdraft, overdrafts, students who don't have to pay overdraft charges, the NUS, members of the NUS, posh students that look down their fucking nose at you, students that don't wash, students that do wash, Rob Zombie, Rob Zombie's fans, crippling mortgage payments, mortgage interest rates, Gordon Brown, politics, people who talk about politics, Posh Spice, David Beckham, premature ejaculation, brewer's droop, weak beer, students who drink weak beer, students who drink at all, people who don't like John Carpenter films, John Carpenter's later films, strangers who fart near you, my farts, dog farts, student farts, Guiness shits, shits with jaggedy peanuts in them, shits that you have after eating a Chinese which smell just like black bean sauce thus making you hungry whilst taking said shit, students who pay £1300 worth of bills in SPAR, men with cunt hair, men with hair, women who think it's clever to cock tease, slags, people who interrupt you, people in general, the price of deoderant, laptops that crash just when you've nearly finished downloading TRANSFORMERS, people who thought TRANSFORMERS was wank, dry wanking, dry heaving, the HD DVD/Blu-Ray war, having to sell your XBOX so you can eat, people who don't swear, people who use the word "wicked!", British sitcoms, sitcoms, TV, beer guts, liver disease, Chris Tucker, people who find Chris tucker funny, Chris Tucker's mum, attractive lesbians, unattractive lesbians, BMW drivers, drivers, people who ride their bikes on the fucking path and expect you to get out of the way, spack-bangers, jizz-jugglers, rim-jimmys, Tim Allen, Blockbuster Video, people who still refer to DVDs as videos, people who still use videos, the fact that a new Batman film isn't released every week, the fact that a new Rush Hour film is released every week, women that haven't mastered sucking dick, sucking dick, cunnilingus, Air Lingus, airports, neighbours, neighbours that are students, neighbours that call you a fat, bald wanker with no charisma but don't have the fucking bollocks to say it to your face, council tax, tax, VAT, shit wages, working, students who don't work, students who do work, Orlando Bloom, Orland Bloom's uncle, mobile phones, Ugly Betty, people who think I sound like Paul Merton, cold weather, hot weather, moderate weather, weather, weathermen, people who don't like Credence Clearwater Revival, Elton John, middle aged people who still go to nightclubs, nightclubs, wanky wine bars, hangovers, alarm clocks, unhygenic women, hygenic women, anyone who thought The Da Vinci Code was mint, people who read The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown, getting your pubes trapped in your foreskin, foreskins, shaking your dick after a piss then putting it back in your pants only for another 2 litres to come out and give you a BIG FUCK OFF PISS PATCH just as you are about to go back to your desk at work, marzipan and, finally, this utter wanker called Jon Brown who calls himself a "comedy writer" (instant cunt) but who's blog is about as funny as PATCH FUCKING ADAMS!

That's better.

Why We Are Angry: The List (Part One)

Some of you out there might be wondering why myself and Crabman are so angry all the time. Years of childhood abuse? Mental health problems? A disappointment in modern day life? NO! We're angry because the world is full of cunts. And in what is sure to be a regularly updated post, I would like to offer you a short list of all the reasons why I am angry. So, deep breath...

People who wear hats, people who wear sunglasses at night, people who wear scarves indoors, people who wear sunglasses, scarves and hats indoors, people who walk slowly, people who stop inadvertently, people who ask you to do surveys in the street, people who try and sell you Big Issue in the street, people in the street who aren't you or your friends, your friends, your friends' friends, friends of the family, your family, your friends' family's, people who buy non-essential items of clothing, students, students who have money, students who wear pajamas outside, students who pay for drinks on credit cards, students in large groups who INDIVIDUALLY pay for their drinks on credit cards, students who drink soft drinks in pubs, students who ask for discounts, students who don't pay council tax (All of them), people who talk on buses, people who talk to you on buses, people who play music on buses, charvas, charvas who play music on buses, charvas who want to borrow 57p to get home, charvas who want to borrow 57p to get home, but really need it to score crack, crack-heads, stoners, pill-poppers, drunks who have the indignity to not be quietly drunk, women, women who talk to you, women who talk to other women, woman who talk to you about other women, women who talk to you about anything other than Optimus Prime or Green Lantern, women who have crap taste in music, women who have no taste in music, women who don't put out, women who expect you to buy them drinks then don't put out, women who expect you to buy them drinks, women who can't operate technology (All of them), women who text you all the time about nothing whatsoever, women who aren't buried under my patio (Most of them), children, children with no mother looking after them, children with a mother looking after them, but it makes no difference, children who talk, children who eat, children who breathe, children who long for a good sound thrashing but it never materialises, old people who walk slowly, old people who walk at a moderate pace, old people who get in your way in the post office, old people who smell of piss, old people who give me the cold every time I sit in a doctor's waiting room, old people who haven't died yet and should have, students, students with expensive cars, students who are dirty, students who tell you they are 19, but are actually a lot younger when you wake up without beer goggles on, students who have nothing to talk about except being a student, anybody at "uni", fit women, fit women who won't talk to you, fit women who wear low-cut tops and then give you funny looks when you stare at their tits, people who get drunk but aren't you or your mates, cunts, twats, shit-heads, cock-knockers, fuck-sticks, twat-handles, beggars, gypsies, gypsies who try to sell you clothes pegs, gypsies who hang out at fairgrounds trying to rob you, gypsies who have small horses that they feed coke cans, people who like hardcore rave, people who like r&b, people who like Tangerine Dream (Ha ha), people who like prog rock from the 70s, people who don't have the same taste in music as me, people who like The Feeling, people who enjoy watching Big Brother, anybody that has ever voluntarily watched Heartbeat, people who like Legally Blonde, people who like Monster-in-Law, people who like Bridget Jones 1 and 2, people who like Bridget Jones 1 and 2 and have read the books, children who read Harry Potter, adults who read Harry Potter, Harry Potter, people who don't rate Crank in their top ten action films of all time, people who don't rate Crank, people who use public transport that aren't me, people who get in my way at the bar, people who look down on me as I have a fag outside the pub, people who make me smoke outside pubs, any cunt who has ever gone out drinking in fancy dress, people on hen dos or stag nights that have specially printed t-shirts, students who go out dressed in togas, students, girls that make me go to the cinema to watch Pride & Prejudice, anybody that likes Pride & Prejudice, people who don't think this site is funny, people who say we swear too much, people who talk to you in pubs who you don't know and don't have breasts, people who talk to you in pubs, people who listen in to your conversations, women who give me death stares for No Apparent Reason, people who think they are better than you even though you're fucking awesome, people who have MySpace pages, people who have Bebo pages, people who have Facebook pages, people who use online dating, people who marry women they met through online dating, people who wear scarves and sunglasses indoors whilst online dating and finally, everybody else who isn't me or Crabman.

That's only the start, I've missed quite a few off there for a later update and I'm sure Crabman has about a billion more to add to that list. Our hatred knows no bounds and now I hope you can see why we get so angry all the time. Well, that and the fact we both are borderline bi-polar and need to get out more/less.