Agony Aunt: Week 1
Post By Doony in Agony Aunt. Comment (3)
 

Dear Doris...
I like the idea of rubbing my groin area against tree's. I feel it's going to ruin my marriage. What should I do?
 
L. R. Cubbard, Space
 
Doris sez...
Oak tree's have rough bark, if you rub against them it'll be an experience you'll never forget. Trust me! However, if it is ruining your marriage I recommend having a long and hard think about what you want. Tree's or your spouse. Good luck!

---

Dear Doris...
About two months ago I found out that my wife was cheating on me, so I killed her and threw her rotting corpse under the bed where I still pluck it out for a quick shag when I'm feeling dirty. However, a problem has arised... How do I stop crumpets from burning on the bottom when I use the toaster? Usually I would ask my wife, but sadly her mouth has rotted to nothing more than a dry semen coated jaw bone.
 
Frank Billoway, London
 
Doris sez...
There are several tricks I have found, firstly look for a setting on your toaster for crumpets. It should be in the manual, basically it will just heat one side more than the other. Simple. However if your toaster is crap like mine, theres a nifty trick. Lean your toaster against something (that will not set on fire) and put your crumpet in upsidedown so that the soft side is facing towards the ground. I recommend a 30-40 degree angle for the best taste.

---

Dear Doris...
My boyfriend keeps sending me bizzarre crap through the post, such as gloves, crucifixes and sunglasses. Why doesn't he send me child support?
 
Mary From, Illinois
 
Doris sez...
Buckle up buster that's what you get with the Buckmeister.

---

Dear Doris...
Nearly a year ago I faked my death and went off exploring the world, leaving my new born son in the loving care of a peeping tom. I have no interest in returning but I was just wondering if you were still single snookums?
 
Tod Mailer, Thailand
 
Doris sez...
I'm sorry 'Tod' but I'm currently engaged to someone I've never met and only share an interest in Final Fantasy with.

---

Dear Doris...
What type of low light settings would optimise my hidden camera in my neighbours bathroom?
 
R. Shlong, UK
 
Doris sez...
ISO to 1000+, and a low light sensor should work well.

---

Thank you all for reading, tune in next sunday for more of your pathetic problems.
 
Love from Mrs. Henderson

I couldn't think of anything
Post By Doony in Link. Comment (0)
 

So heres a cool video I found of scenes from Tron with Depeche Mode playing over.

Behold the Twat-O-Tron
Post By mitchington in Link. Comment (1)
 

For those that read BBC's Have Your Say section, this will be painfully familiar.

http://ifyoulikeitsomuchwhydontyougolivethere.com/the-twat-o-tron/

Karma Wall
Post By grog in Link. Comment (1)
 

Oh man. Ouch.
 

 
[Link]

Am I on MySpace.com?
Post By Doony in Link. Comment (2)
 

No, and you never will have to be again if you install this addon for Firefox.

In the words of Webmonkey:



[Link]

Night Vision
Post By Doony in Media. Comment (1)
 

Safe Baby Handling Tips
Post By grog in Link. Comment (1)
 

All of this stuff is from the book 'Safe Baby Handling Tips' available from Amazon.co.uk here
 

Review: My carpet
Post By Doony in Reviews. Comment (0)
 

Title: Standard Mass Produced Crap
Release date: 2004ish
Genre: Bland
Director: Peter Phillips of Birmingham

Keywords: carpet, floor, puppies, sex, hot xxx girls, viagra, needs a clean, utterly shit, just like jakes mums muff

When I first viewed my place the first thing I noticed was the colour, not only because of the neck strain that caused by years of lonely computer gaming and masturbation but because it was so damn boring. Were it not for the fact that my dirty clothes, snot, blood and vomit have added a bit of colour to it I would have probably hung myself.

It's the same everywhere in the house, every room has the same shit carpet. I don't know if our retarded landlord was high when he bought it, but I certainly don't see those rainbows he described patterned on it.

2/5 Scotts
The carpet is fine now that I've layed down some ground rules. Ahaha.

The Sharron Anderson Movie
Post By Doony in Media. Comment (0)
 

This film was released to celebrate the life of Sharron Anderson.

Suicide Scott
Post By Doony in Archive. Comment (0)
 

This is a game I created years ago whilst being an asshole with Flash. It's nothing special, but it gives you an excuse to throw Scott around...

Although, you don't really need an excuse to anyway.

Enjoy.

Etta McGramble
Post By Doony in Archive. Comment (3)
 

This was my first ever poem. I don't quite remember its roots but it is still as shit as ever.

Etta McGramble lived high in the branches of her favorite tree.

From up there she''d spit, throw stones and pee.

Until one day a over weight lumberjack ended her dream.

Etta was ruined or so it would seem.

"Oh sorry love, didn''t know anyone had a residential license here"

Said Barney the Lumberjack while drinking some warm beer.

Etta searched her bags, destroyed house and her pockets.

Until she found what she wanted, a gun that deployed rockets.

She fired at Barney, he broke to run.

But before he knew it he was crisp as a bun.

Etta heard sirens, possibly police, or maybe a fire truck.

They approached ever closer, oh bugger, oh f**k.

Etta grabbed all her shit and ran down the big hill.

Barney was dead, his beer had gone still.

---

After 16 days of running Etta came to a halt, a small house in view.

She ran over, knocked on the door. Hoping to use the home owners loo.

"How may I help you young lady." A old man said.

"Let me in goddam it, or I''ll pooh on your head."

He let her in and returned to his business.

This guy was fat, he needed fitness.

Etta killed the poor guy, and stole some bread

The man lay still with a knife in his head

---

Etta was confused one day.

To cross a bridge she needed to pay.

She pulled out her Uzi.

Which she had named Suzy.

And blasted the bridge guard away.

"Oh Etta, you really are having a bad day."

Said Ronald Macdonald, a clown who is gay.

Etta raised her Uzi''s once more.

Next thing, Ronald''s dead on the floor.

---

A death warrant posted on a post office wall.

On it a picture of Etta, she looked too tall.

So she grabbed her tank and blew the post office to hell.

She sensed a bakery, she like the smell.

Etta leant over the counter, "Can I have a fresh pasty please?"

"Sure," Replied the assistant. "Stake, Cornish or cheese?"

"I''ll have a Cornish, could you give me the change in tens?"

"Ohh, I don''t know lady. I dropped my eye lens"

"Then I''ll blast you away you son of a bitch."

"Oh god lord, its you you little witch."

Ted Miller, the bakery man. Laid dead on the floor.

His kids we''re gonna get adopted, they won''t miss his snore.

---

The police finally captured Etta McGramble.

She was fast asleep, no time to scramble.

Now she''s locked up in a high prison cell.

Preparing her nuke to send the world to hell.

A voyage into the darkness
Post By Doony in General. Comment (1)
 

Sub-header: A Visit to Scott's House

You may of heard the rumours about me, I can say they are true and that earlier today I visited Scott''s house. Here is what I documented for you:

• 20:02 - Met Scott near his home, the tobacco smoke and graveyard mud in the surrounding area let me know I was close.


• 20:08 - Scott''s house stands alone atop a hill, it over looks the entire city. Thunder struck behind it, I fear this is a mistake.


• 20:12 - We enter the house, I blink and Scott instantly becomes partially naked. He claims it''s a personal comfort thing, but I''m not so sure.


• 20:22 - Scott shows me his high-tech "Control Centre" set up in his basement. His computer (an Atari 4000) hums quietly away auto-banning new members to Chiser instantly.


• 20:32 - Scott shows me his "Quarters" a framed painting of Tom Cruise sits atop his mantel. His bed is surrounded by trip wires and bear traps Scott claims its for when the zombies return, but I''m not so sure.


• 20:45 - Scott engages in a session of Communism and Conkers, a strategy game with Russians, Chinese and conkers.


• 21:00 - The lack of Ted Miller gets to me, luckily Scott had a picture of him in his underwear. My withdrawal symptoms go away.


• 21:14 - Scott introduces me to his kitchen, he says its for preparing food, but I''m not so sure.


• 21:25 - I am shown Scott''s latest find; a 50 year old corpse named Grenda. It is kept perfectly preserved in Scott''s laydown freezer.


• 21:28 - We play more Communism and Conkers, Scott''s team builds some sort of ice cream factory while the enemy build a nuclear arsenal.


• 21:42 - Scott''s team wins.


• 22:00 - Bruce Willis is on television, Scott says it was Channel 5, but I''m noy so sure.


• 22:12 - I find a picture of Dinger covered in white stuff, luckily a jar of mayonnaise lies close by.


• 22:13 - Scott''s family return, they welcome me as their new son giving me free things in a gift bag. I thank his mum personally.


• 22:32 - We leave for the cinema to watch Die Hard 4.0. Scott says he knows a shortcut, but I''m not so sure.

(stolen from this thread)',

Scott's gay emo shit
Post By Doony in General. Comment (1)
 

Life is a lie. Life is not good, life is not happy, or brilliant, or awesome, it is cold, dark and bleak. Life will disappoint you, time and time again, and it will always surprise you, even if you know it is coming. Everyone is disappointed with everything. Nothing is worthy, no one is truely great, everything is a mirage, covering up the bitterness in everyone''s lives, distorting the perspective of humanity.

Everyone is unhappy, some just are better at disguising it. No one is where they want to be, doing what they want to do. Even if they achieve their spoken dreams, there will always be something else that they aspire to be, something else which they will never reach. The pastimes of the world are created to soak up the time between birth and death, little more. It makes life just that little more bearable, allowing mankind to continue in their advancement towards the end. Life is not a sustainable thing, everyone dies, everyone rots, but what you do in this life determines how long you delay the inevitable.

What you do affects the level of misery that your life has. But no matter what you do, it is always dark, always dreary. Society makes you count between one fuck and the next. Stereotypes force you to subconsciously choose people based on appearence, beliefs and intelligence. You may say you ignore stereotypes and treat everyone equal, but you are lying. Nothing is down to chance or luck, everything is down to choice. You choose when to get up, you choose when to eat, when to watch TV, when to drink. You choose to go to bed, you choose your friends, your partners, your jobs. You choose the life you take, but no matter what you chose to do, you will always be disappointed, and you always choose to put up with whatever happens. Choice, it seems, will doom us all.

Humanity is a flawed species, always seeking out conflict and depression, hiding from the things that might actually make us happy. Technology makes our miserable lives easier, not happier. Literature makes us wiser, not cheery. Our lives are destined for depression, destruction, disappointment and death. But while we are here, we might as well try to have fun, even if it isn''t possible.

I guess ignorance really is bliss.

-----------

Listen to it recorded - OH MY GOD

Dingers Day Out Anthology
Post By Doony in Forum. Comment (0)
 

From THIS thread and THAT one.



CHAPTER ONE:

It was a dark night, gloom was sinking in and a strong chill was spreading through out England. To make matters worse Dinger had just quit Chiser and was busy wiping the tears from his face.

"They don''t deserve me," he told himself while he looked in a mirror. The make-up he had been wearing the night before was drooping down his face like a cheap Bulgarian clown. "I will do fine without them and their stupid website."

He pondered as to what the 8 hours a day he spent online should now be spent on. A new hobby perhaps?

He returned to his bedroom, his laptop hummed pathetically without Internet Explorer running Dinger''s desktop was displayed brightly around his pink room. The black man in the image remained lifeless in his pixelated form. Dinger curled up under his Winnie the Pooh duvet, in his dreams the black man would be real.



Dinger awoke early the next day. He lay in bed and tried to decide his next move...

Â

CHAPTER TWO:


Dinger rolled over in his bed and closed his eyes, the dim rising sun barely breaking through his My Little Pony curtains. Reality faded to darkness.

There he was, dancing naked with Dinger. The black man Dinger had wanted to be with since he had first Googled "partially naked" was doing the robot to Domo Arigato in a blurry darkened dungeon themed nightclub. Dinger had been here in conscienceless, it was where he had first met Hernando Chavez - the man who had taught Dinger how to give wangtans. Hernando had taught Dinger so many things in such little time and touched him in places that only his father had been before. Sadly Hernando was crushed to death by a billboard advertising headache capsules.

The black man swept towards Dinger, his arms stretched. Dinger reached out, about to grasp on... BANG!

Dinger awoke with a fright as his housemate Hil burst into to his room opening the door so fast it smashed into the wall.

"Dinger, you left semen stains all over the bathroom again." He said angrily.
"What...? Oh, sorry, you know how it is." Dinger replied tiredly.
"For fuck sake, learn to clean up!"

With that he picked up a framed picture of Dinger with Graham Norton and threw it at Dinger''s nose. He left, leaving our hero with a bleeding nose and a wonderful dream cut short.

Â

Chapter 3

Dinger rose from his bed, his frail, pale, barely-male body in full view. He walked over to his cupboard and shuffled through the socks and knickers. He sound what he was looking for, a knife that had the words "Dingurz stabin nife" roughly dug into its blade.

He made a cruel smile and walked out of the room. Still completely naked.

Hil was in the bathroom scrubbing the semen stains from the light fittings, his back was turned to the door where Dinger now stood. Pure evil shone in his eyes, rage built within him. All the years of mocking, all the bullying, the cheap laughs. How dare he?

He ran, he raised his arm and with all his might he thrust the knife at Hil''s neck.

The speed of the knife, equal to only the wit of Jim Davidson, failed to penetrate Hil''s skin. In fact Dinger''s muscles weren''t strong enough to push the knife through the hairs on Hil''s neck.

Hil didn''t stop cleaning the light. He hadn''t even noticed that Dinger was in the room. His almost-assailant now lay on the floor out of breath.


Several hours passed and Dinger finally managed to get to his feet...

Â

CHAPTER FOUR:

Dinger stumbled awkwardly out of the bathroom and burst into a high-pitched scream fest. He slammed his fists against the wall and kicked the skirting board. Nothing happened.

Â

CHAPTER FIVE:

Not to be beaten Dinger walked downstairs and left the house, the fact he had yet to put on clothes was made apparent by the horrified screams of his neighbours.

Dinger, however, was already in a world of glory; by an amazing coincidence the very same black man who was sporting his chest on Dinger''s computer had just driven past him in a car.

The car swerved out of view, luckily for him Dinger had learnt many shortcuts in the area whilst he was out cottaging. He broke into a run and turned down a small alleyway. He scaled a waist high wall (with a little bit of difficulty) and ran out into a road. He turned just in time to see his dream guys car turning several yards away. Dinger gave up the chase, however he did manage to see the cars registration plate. It was a personalized one...

"BRUV4LUV4"

Â

CHAPTER SIX:

Dinger stood in the middle of the street using all his brain power to remember the registration. Suddenly, for no reason at all he walked up to a very worried looking man and stroked his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing man?" The man asked.
"Mmmm." Dinger replied, he stared at the man. His eyes dreamy.
"The fuck?" The man said before punching Dinger on his already damaged nose.

Dinger fell to the ground once more. His gay outbursts were worsening. His doctor had given him pills for his self-diagnosed Dingurbations. He never took them.

Dinger lay on the pavement, naked, bloody and aroused...

Â

CHAPTER SEVEN:

He got up, his mind focused again. He must break into Chismouth Police Station, hack into their high-tech systems and trace his perfect mans registration plate! Simple.

Still covered in his blood, Dinger walked into a nearby fancy dress shop. The short moustached man behind the counter looked confused as Dinger browsed through the poor selection of clothing, his favourite customer Mr. Benn never did this.

Finally Dinger found what he was looking for, a police officers uniform. Dinger pulled some money out of a mysterious crevice and paid.

Almost half an hour later and a few miles away the receptionist in the police station was too busy doing her crosswords to notice the ugly man walking past in a female strippers latex police outfit. Dinger had made it through his first step, luckily after a previous visit (reference cottaging above) to this particular station Dinger knew roughly where he was going.

He walked casually past uniformed patrol units heading out, they didn''t question things like this anymore. He headed down into the offices and found a free computer, he switched it on and loaded the tracing program. He began to type...

B. R. U. V. 4. L. U.

"STOP, IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!" Screamed a thunderous voice.

Â

CHAPTER EIGHT:

"Get your hands away from the computer," the voice said. Dinger did as he was told, the chair he was sat on was strongly swivelled around and Dinger found himself looking at a group of officers. The man with the deep voice stood closest with a taser aimed at Dinger''s chest.

"What were you doing on that computer?" He asked.
"I was ... uhhh... trying to see if Gaz was a pedo." Dinger lied.
"Do not lie to me. You aren''t even an officer of the law!"
"How do you know?"
"We don''t allow homosexuals on the force."

Dinger was planning his escape. He had to Dingurbate, it was his only choice. He had only Dingurbated less than an hour before and he wasn''t exactly superman.

"You''ll have to go to the cells whilst we file a report." Said a young male officer in the crowd.
"I like your truncheon," Dinger said as he began his Dingurbation. "Can I touch it."
"Fuck no." Replied the officer. Nevertheless, Dinger rose from his seat and stroked the officers truncheon.
"Mmmm."

Thanks to a sudden sharp pain on the back of his head, Dinger blacked out.


He awoke in an alleyway several hours later. His head bruised, his nose blood and wearing a now muddy female strippers latex police uniform Dinger plotted his next move.

Â

CHAPTER NINE:

Dinger rose to his feet and looked around him. This place wasn''t familiar. He walked to the end of the alley and continued along the pavement at the side of a busy main road. Several cars honked their horns at him, and one even had the nerve to throw a drink at him.

"Well, well, well. If it isn''t Dinger?"

The familiar voices startled Dinger and he turned and he turned to see that bright light he had recently abandoned.

The Chiser Team was existing a newsagent he had just passed. They glowed in a cloud of brilliance:

Scott in his clothes so dark, his hair girlish and his hygiene debatable was probably responsible for the cloud as the 8 cigarettes in his mouth were being puffed quickly away.

Mike his brain so large, his wisdom so great and his face so printed. He was just a lifesize cut out of the real Mitch who sadly couldn''t be there due to prior plans.

Joe his magnificence underrated, stood eating what appeared to be the remains of a horses face. His beauty enhanced only by its maggotty blood stains.

Gaz sat upon the shoulder of Joe, covered in blood splatter and wearing his trademarked Newcastle United top and red shoes appeared happy to be perched on his idol.

Dave still slipping the porno magazine he had just purchased into his coat pocket, his ginger hair untamed and trousers on backwards was wearing his beloved TedMillerâ„¢ cap.

Team Chiser was awesome in all the wrong ways.

"Guys, I''ve missed you!" Said Dinger.
"Dinger, you left Chiser last night." Said Joe before chomping once more into the horse.
"It''s been an awful day, no one understands me."
"Being you every day must be awful." Said Mike, sounding distinctly like Gaz.
"Oh guys! Group hug!" Said Dinger cheerfully.

He stretched out his arms and walked towards Team Chiser who each walked backwards, except Scott who seemed unfased.

"Ewww," said Dave.
"Fuck off Dinger," said Joe.
"Mars bars. Hahaha," said Mike, sounding distinctly like Gaz.

However, if they had been paying attention they would of notice that recent drop in altitude had infact been the kerb and that loud honking horn was the sound of their impending deaths.

The large truck slammed into Mitch first, his cardboard body crumpled in an instant, Dave followed, the impact rippled across his flab before he exploded with the impact. Joe and Gaz were last to go, simultaneously hit. Gaz''s body flew away into the distance.

The Chiser Team was dead, except Scott who stood smoking.

"Well," he said. "That was interestin-"

His words were cut short as the years of non-stop smoking caught up with him and he instantly died of a heart attack and fourteen separate types of cancer.

Dinger, alone once more. Stood in awe, his only friends crushed in an instant.

Plus he never got his group hug.

Â

CHAPTER TEN:

The image kept on playing through Dinger''s mind: The black man driving away into the distance. It was horrific. Against all the odds in the world he had seen him with his bare eyes, only to loose him.

A cold hand on Dinger''s shoulder brought him back to reality. He sat wrapped in a towel on a kerb covered in fresh blood. His only friends mauled minutes earlier before him. He identified the arm by turning and looking at the mans badge as Officer O. Tiddlywink, a policeman from the town over.

"It''s lucky I got here so fast Sir, all the local cops from here had to go home after being touched by a camp man in their station. Our stations taken the load and we''re rushed off our feet." He said.

Dinger said nothing.

"Listen son, I''m going to need your name and a statement. The sooner this is over, the sooner you can sort yourself out."

"Well..." Said Dinger and he began telling Officer Tiddlywink of the days events.


The doors of the ambulance slammed shut and Officer Tiddlywink was rushed away; they hoped his sudden coma wouldn''t last too long.

Dinger strolled away into the gathering dark, the pink clouds did nothing to brighten his mood. All his friends were gone forever and, even worse, he had lost his mystery blackman. He looked at the road ahead, it went on forever.

CHAPTER TEN-POINT-FIVE:

A loud screech, blinding headlights. Dinger stumbled backwards into a wall, the white van had halted right beside him. It''s sidedoors opened and four men jumped out in balaclavas. They grabbed Dinger, he didn''t resist - he liked the roughness, and threw him into the van and sped off.

Dark shuffling, a blindfold, a hand in his underwear... no wait, that was his hand.

"Welcome Mr. Balding to Corplex." Said a mysterious womans voice. "Corplex is a secret organisation that deals with high-danger missions in dangerous territories. Before you ask we aren''t the IPCHQ - those films were terrible."
"Where am I?" Dinger muttered, his blindfold bringing him the darkness his heart seeked.
"Corplex, like I said."
"Why am I here?"
"You have lost everything, you are perfect candidate for our program. With nothing to lose there is nothing stopping you from doing what must be done. That is of course... If you wish to join Corplex."

Â

Chapter eleven:

"So Mr. Balding, have you decided yet?" The woman''s voice was cold and emotionless. "Will you join Corplex?"

Dinger shuffled, his hands tied in his pants, his face blindfolded. This was a tricky situation.

"Mr. Balding please, I do not have all day." The woman said; her impatience becoming more apparent.

Dinger pursed his lips, position his tongue and whistled - he focused his eyes with all his might and through the darkness an image of his surroundings appeared as his whistle bounced off surfaces and returned to him. The image was a large, muscular blackman with an erection. Unlike being an idiot, echo-location was not one of Dinger''s natural talents.

He gave up on the idea.

Â

Chapter 12:

"Okay then." Dinger succumbed, "I will join Corplex."

"Excellent Mr. Balding. Due to your ... abilities I see no reason to train you in self-defence. Instead, we shall arm you up and set you out for your first mission." The mysterious woman said.

Dinger felt the binds on his wrists loosen and his blindfold was pulled away. Infront of him the mysterious woman sat. Long blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a body that Arnold Schwarzenegger would work out to. Of course, Dinger had no interest and his eyes wandered to his own crotch. How he had missed the sight.


"Your target is a man named Lowar McLoin," the beautiful woman said several minutes later in a briefing room. "He is highly dangerous and we need him killed, quickly."

"I also do things quickly," Dinger bragged.

"Now then, recon has managed to take these shots of him." She flicked on a projector and the mans face appeared on a display. "To the best of our knowledge he is going to book into the Miller Memorial Motel tonight on his way to the porn convention. That is where you will take him down."

Dinger didn''t respond. The man in the picture was the man from his dreams.

"You do accept this mission, right Mr. Balding?" The babe repeated herself.

Dinger sat, mouth open - speechless. After a struggle he managed to answer the question...

"I accept this mission."

Dinger smiled to himself, he knew the black mans name and location and soon they would finally meet.


Meanwhile at the Miller Memorial Motel, a black hand sank deep into a luggage bag and withdrew a very large machine gun.

"I''m waiting for you Corplex." He said to himself, his voice deep and powerful. "Waiting to end you."

Â

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

The rain fell from the sky like drops of condensed cooling steam in the weather cycle. A strike of lightning illuminated the rotting Miller Memorial Motel, it''s wood black with mold, it''s windows yellow with dirt. A lone figure walked alone the upper walkway, stopped outside room number 42 and raised his foot.

A slam, a crack and a scream.

Dinger fell to the floor, his leg broken. The undamaged door opened and Dinger saw his favourite face one last time before the gun shot.

The pop echoed several times, the black man stood there smoking gun in one hand and Barely Legal Cracker Jack Magazine in the other.


"I think he''s conscience again." Hanging from his arms, pantless and suffering incredible pain from broken leg and gun shot wound to the adjacent foot- Dinger opened his eyes. A blurred room came into view, it was large. A warehouse.

Dinger focused his eyes, he looked for his black lover boy. He wasn''t there, which was weird because he could smell him.

*Zip* - the familiar sound of flies being undone behind him.
*Spit* - someone spat onto their hand and rubbed it into Dinger''s forbidden palace.

A sharp pain in his rear, Dinger screamed.

As he hung there dying, bleeding to death and getting raped in the ass by a rather generously hung black man... Dinger looked up through a window in the roof into the stars beyond.

"Thank you." He said.



THE END!

Chiser-Television
Post By Doony in Archive. Comment (0)
 

That''s right, we''ve teamed up once again with the Television Workshop and the Letter C to give you, our visitors, brilliant shows on your own television from here at Chiser HQ.

The current line up is as follows:

Weekdays

• 09:00-10:00: The Adventures of Ted Miller
  The cartoon adventures of the late Ted Miller aimed at children, voiced by himself during the 80''s. Follow Ted as he explores the world in search of the greatest shemen.


• 10:00-10:30: The Blues At Ten
  Listen to your favourite blues music, everyday at 10am. Hosted by Huw Edwards.


• 10:30-11:30: The Antiques Roadshow
  Nothing but an hour of laughs from old people trying to hock their stuff for crystal meth.


• 11:30-12:00: The Think-Tank Thanks
  A summary of whats happening in the world and how it affects the shape of clouds, from Mitch McFlower.


• 12:00-14:00: The Lunchtime Break
  No programmes, everyone is eating lunch. Nothing but adverts for adult websites will be shown.


• 14:00-15:00: The Daily Scott
  The latest celebrity going ons inside Scotts family, live from Richard Schlongs house.


• 15:00-17:00: Afternoon Movie
  A different movie each day of the week, from 101 Dalmations to the Irack series.


• 17:00-19:00: The Dinner Break
  No programmes, instead a live feed directly from Gazza''s cage is streamed.


• 19:00-20:00: Mrs. Henderson''s Big Knickers
  Fantastic gameshow where opposing teams try to knit knickers for Mrs. Henderson.


• 20:00-21:00: Three Chicks and a Pizza Dude
  Double bill. Hilarious and sexually awkward comedy about three baby chickens and a pizza delivery guy.


• 21:00-22:00: The Evening Mock
  Mockery live and uncut as two teams fight to make the most people in the audience cry or type in capitals.


• 22:00-22:30: The Blues At Ten
  Listen to your favourite blues music, everyday at 10pm. Hosted by Huw Edwards.


• 22:30-23:00: Neighbours
  Your favourite soap opera, straight from Australia. Will Karl and Harold finally hook up? I hope so.


• 23:00-00:30 (Mon, Tue, Thu, Fri): Hilberts House Party
  Hilbert Kissington and Mr. Blobby present a hilarious guest show with lots and lots of gunge!


• 23:00-00:30 (Wed): Fapping With Scott
  The Scott presents his weekly masturbation session live from the stables outback. Lots of mess!


• 00:30-02:00: Late Nights With Dinger
  Thought provoking discussion from Dinger. Why are foreigners stupid? Why am I the smartest?


• 02:00: END

Weekends

• 09:00-02:00: Scott''s Mum
  Live feed from the Scott''s Mums house. Who will be erected, what is the daily position going to be? What do the clients think of eachother, find out every weekend.

...