Peter O'Phile Has Died

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7813124.stm

Sadly (for you fuckers, anyway) I caught paedo-rectal-face-canceritis after coming into contact with 8th hand smoke (when a smoker causes a passive smoker to ingest smoke through her nose holes, who later excretes the toxins into a ditch, which a calf then drinks from, after which the calf is eaten in an ASDA ready meal by a nice young lady called Samantha, whose brains I then splatter all over my car bonnet in a bizarre "accident", and still later lick off), giving me a pretty heavy dose of superweaseliesnic.

My penis shrivelled to the length of an average bus and I suddenly developed absolutely no facial tics. I would often be found shouting at individual blades of grass by name, although this is not a recognised symptom of paedo-rectal-face-canceritis. Years later I was hit in the head by a flying chainsaw and the disease finally claimed its most awesome victim.

Since when was the BBC allowed to make stuff up? Oh wait...nevermind.

"They found that while 95% of non-smokers and 85% of smokers agreed that direct inhalation of second-hand smoke was harmful to children, just 65% of non-smokers, and 43% of smokers believed the same for "third-hand" smoke."

The most shocking statistic here is that up to 35% of the British public might not be complete fucking retards. I mean, it's probably just too small a sample or something and they accidentally asked one of the three people in the UK who can remember what the word "science" means. Anyway, long story short, the BBC are cunts, 3rd hand smoke is a fucking lie and I am dead, at least for now.

Atheism: Just Another Excuse To Act The Cunt

Ok, I thought I could retire safely to my corner and concentrate on my mind-masturbation techniques. Sadly it turns out that there are just too many things fucked up and stupid for me to sit and...practice.

This http://www.atheistcampaign.org is for cunts. Why some tossing fuckspackers feel the need to force their religion down my fucking throat is beyond me, and this is no different.

I'll tell you now, if some fucking Atheist comes knocking on my door on Saturday morning, I'll be answering it in my pope outfit. That's a coincidence, but I'll be telling them to fuck right off anyway.

"Hi! Can I just ask, have you thought about not believing in God?"
"Hmmm, well I've thought about not believing in people who ring fucking doorbells to talk to strangers...I've thought about believing in stabbing garden forks into people who ring on doorbells to talk strangers...I'm not sure I've...oh, you've gone."

Oh, and be the way, people calling yourselves Atheists. Atheism is the belief that there is no god. The phrase "there's probably no god" would apply to Agnosticism. You don't even know what you do or don't not believing in, you fucking ball bothering morons. Go kill yourselves and go to not-hell or wherever the fuck it is you types go.
One last point. If you believed in some sort of god and the afterlife, I suspect that finding out that there is no god would be a pretty big concern, so don't give me that "don't worry" cock. Instead of infinity years to get all your business taken care of (gas bills, anti-cancer cure etc), you've now got about sixty. That's almost infinity years less than you were originally counting on. Puts your 2,000 year plan into real fucking timescaling issues, doesn't it?

Now, if everybody could stop being cunts, I'd like to go back to sleep.

A Sane Man's Product Review:Watt's On! Watts-On! What's'On'Oh fuck it

That...thing, is called a Wattson. I hope that you haven't heard of it and I can now ruin your day before running off into the night wearing only a sheep. It monitors electricity usage.

Want a link to find out more? Here you go you lazy fuck:
http://www.google.co.uk

I have a few comments. You might like to take a seat, there's some maths involved. Let's start with the obvious.

How To Recreate Wattson's Monitor Function In Three Easy Steps, Using Simple Household Items Only:

• Look at electricity meter.
• Allow time to pass.
• Look at electricity meter.

I'm recommending that the time taken over stage two should be around 65 years. Don't rush it, and don't go anywhere while the reading's going on, you'll fuck up the gamma correction.

How To Save More Money Than Wattson Costs:

• Don't buy Wattson
• Switch on light-bulb for 1.5 years.
  
• Switch off light bulb
• Alternatively, don't use a washing machine for 15 years**.
  

Yes, that's right. Running a light bulb constantly for 1.7 years* would cost you around £150. As would buying this piece of shit. Also the risk of a light bulb catching fire and burning your house down is minimal compared to my coming round and setting your baby alight if you own a Wattson.

Note that I ignored the fact that Wattson already has lights inside and so didn't have to calculate the cost of running the bastard thing. Also it avoided my head melting of internal rage.

How To Save More Environment Than By Using Wattson:

• Don't Buy Wattson
• Don't Buy Batteries For Wattson
• Wait. Batteries?

Yes, that's right. Batteries. In a device intended to help save the environment. I have nothing more to say on this matter. It also appears to be made from plastic, so it will be around long after the manganese and mercury run out.

How To Have More Fun Than By Using Wattson:

• Eat razor blades
• Start a fight in a convent
• Hunt down the idiots below and beat them to death with vegetarian shoes

http://www.ecolocal.com/uk/home_life/show/wattson http://www.newconsumer.com/news/item/wonderful_wattson_smart_meter_to_debut_at_150

I can't even comment on how dull watching that fucking thing must be. I'd rather watch myself get eaten from the inside out by a rat. Even bearing in mind that you can't even see anything at all for the first twenty minutes of agonising rat-pain.

So in summary, an idea that should have ended in a game of russian roulette, spawned by a company that should have been run by Northern Rock, bought by people who should be used to run my car.

I give it two cocks up.





* Wattson/Light Bulb Maths:
Electricity @ 10p per kWh
Price = £150.00
Price = 1500 kWh

Light bulb @ 100W
1500 kWh => 15000 h
15000 h = 625 days

*Wattson/Washing Machine Maths:
Average 1.5kWh per cycle
1000 cycles
1 cycle per week
18 years

Attention Car Companies: Try Harder

It's high time someone took a stand against the idiotic fucking names car companies are giving their shitbox piece of crap cars nowadays. I can accept the poor, bland styling, safety-first handling, and mediocre performance they seem to think everyone on this planet wants. Accept, but not be happy about, of course.

However, when they then force me to ride in a car with a name so stupid I want to kill myself with a teaspoon just thinking about the process involved, I draw the line. Really, all it takes is a little thought guys. Look at your car. If it's a small box, call it the Smallbox, or Shitcrap - you get the idea.

The Fiat "Panda"

Don't arbitrarily call your car a panda unless it actually bears a resemblance to the white and black bear like mammal which held the name first:

A Fiat "Panda", Dim Sum.

Does your car look like a fucking panda? Come on, Sim-Sim, mate to save your species...Oh, ok, fuck you then. It's a car's exhaust you're trying to force your confused panda cock into anyway.

The Honda "Jazz"

To be perfectly honest, it's highly unlikely that your car has anything at all in common with a form of music typified by a strong but flexible rhythmic understructure, including solo and ensemble improvisations on basic tunes and chord patterns. SO WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU CALL YOUR CAR A JAZZ? Unless, of course you meant the colloquialism of Jazz - e.g. Love Juice, Spunk, Cum, White Sticky Water. In which case, I apologise as your car does actually look like a pile of wank.

Oh yeah, nice. The Honda "Jazz".

The Mitsubishi "Colt"

A colt is a young fucking horse, you retarded bastards. A young fucking horse. What does a big box made of metal, rubber and selotape have to do with horses? Nothing, you say? Well then please explain this titular travesty:

The Mitsubishi "Colt" prepares to take its first jump.

The Ford "Escort"

How about a car that spent last night lying on it's back getting fucked for money? Well, the Ford Escort will be right up your street, Sir. She'll take you where you want to go and suck you dry as she does it. Mind your wallet though, else you'll wake up in a bath full of ice, missing two kidneys and your credit cards.

The Ford "Escort". Stupid Fucking Name.

The Seat "Ibiza"

What I'm really looking for in a car, though, is the ability to party non-stop for six months of the year, sleep with anonymous drunk strangers and return to England with Herpes. My dream car should also be situated in the Balearic Islands, preferably somewhere west of Majorca.

The Seat "Ibiza". Knows how to party.

It is genuinely disturbing how little choice you have left available to you if you rule out cars on the (not unreasonable) basis of them having stupid names. Come on, Subaru, bring out the "FuckingAwesome". When's the new Vauxhall "KickAssAndFastAsFuck" due? Why, why, why won't Ford answer my letters about their "GrannyRapeKiddyKiller" concept car?

The decision I have come to, as I am sure many others will in due time, is that until automobile nomenclature takes a turn for the better, I'll just have to stick with my trusty old Toyota Picnic.

Oh, and by the way ladies, I fuck almost as well as I photoshop. Contact me via PeterOPhile@Gmail.com.