Do you wanna be in my gang?

If you're on Twitter you can't help but have noticed last week the Twitterati throwing what I like to call a "twitfit", an outpouring of sturm und drang in 140 characters because former glam rock musician and convicted pedophile Gary Glitter had popped up on the popular microblogging site to announce a comeback tour.

As you would expect there were plenty of your standard neanderthal "Kill all peedofils they is scum, innit" tweets the majority were of the "Ew, throw this man off Twitter. Why doesn't somebody do something!" flavour... which as it turns out was exactly the point the troll who created the fake account was aiming for. In a statement this person, whoever he is because with a sense of irony he posted his manifesto anonymously, said he'd created the stunt to highlight that "OK you know Glitter is a pedo but how many more are there on the net that your kids are talking to that you don't know about" and calling for anyone on the sex offenders register to be disallowed use of the internet in perpetuity and an end to anonymity on the net.

And so yet again we see that leader of the four horsemen of the infopocalypse, the eevil nasty peedofil, being trotted out into the arena and performing a few half-passes and 20 metre circles at canter for the benefit of the sheeple who all cheer when some scumbag politico then pipes up "You see there, peedofils! That's why we have to take away internet anonymity!".

Of course on a fully registered internet we know what you read, where you go, what you say. Back in your pens sheep, we wolves in Parliament know what's best for you and if you dare to say different well, off to market with you.

Another thing that got me thinking as a result of this was do we actually believe in a rehabilitative justice system? Now I hold no brief for the kiddy fiddlers (and quite frankly can't bloody stand children) but do we as a society believe that old canard about "having paid your debt to society" and once a criminal has served his sentence he is a free man with a clean slate? It would seem to me that in the case of one faded rock star in particular, we clearly don't.

Who Killed Stuart Lubbock?

All through yesterday thanks to the humungous plasma screen tellies on the wall at work (now 70% owned by all you lucky taxpayers out there) which are permanently tuned to Sky News for some unfathomable reason every time I looked up I was treated to the sorry sight of this stupid fucker.



This is Terry Lubbock who yesterday was sporting the t-shirt you see in the picture which reads "Who killed Stuart Lubbock?". I am assuming it says that because the guys down at PrintaShirt told him that "I am a homophobe who cannot accept the fact that my son was into taking massive quantities of drugs and enjoyed getting rogered roughly up the arse" would not fit, even on an XXL shirt.

OK so it kinda sucks that your kid died but what do you fucking expect when he took a cocktail of drink, ecstasy and enough Colombian marching powder to open an artificial ski-slope and then, after a few rounds of coked-up bottysex, fell into a swimming pool when everyone else was similarly in a haze of pharmaceutical oblivion and probably, therefore, not at their most attentive.

Actually come to think of it... how come I never get invited to that sort of party?

So even though the Essex Filth made a complete Horlicks of the investigation, my guess is Terry that who killed your son was himself.

But that's not good enough for you is it Tezza, no we need to keep blaming the nasty queers because your son wasn't a queer was he? No could not have been, look here's a picture of him in a morning suit getting married to something dressed in a marquee. He really could not have possibly been on the other bus and fantasized about pulling a train of these guys...



... not your perfect son, no way. Must have been murder. Course it must.

Still, nice little handout coming to you courtesy of the public purse. When some granny in Basildon gets her head cracked open by some scrote who nicks her pension money because there's no copper on the street because that copper's salary is in your back pocket I'm sure that won't cause you any lack of sleep. You cunt.

Hiding the kids from evil peedofils

Your scaly green correspondent was out shopping last week for a new motor vehicle as the present tank is getting a bit tatty and long in the tooth so time to get something new with which to annoy the eco-weenies.

As is normal with my car purcasing forays I already know what model and spec I want before I go to the shop and invariably see something shinier and buy that and this trip was no exeception as I was after a Toyota Landcruiser LC4 and ended up with a four month old fully tricked out Invinvible (piccies to follow when I pick it up later in the week).

Anyway I tootled around in it, in lieu of off-roading I drove it over a couple of speed bumps and flapped my dragony wings in joy when, on parking it back at the dealership, found it had a camera in the back so you can park the fucking thing. I also noticed that all the rear windows were darkly tinted (which, to be honest, made it look a bit like a pimpmobile) but I didn't give it much thought. Anyway Mrs D and I were back at the dealers on Saturday to sign the papers and make it quite clear to him that I did not require the optional Wombat Protection Insurance or the additional Beluga Whale Towing option so please take those off the bill you commission junky. A little hiccup happened in that we realised that the MOT* had expired on the car I'm trading in so being as I'm about to spunk 30-odd thousand on the new thing they booked us in then and there and leant us a Verso for a couple of hours. Quite a nice medium sized family runabout with a start button which was cool and a dashboard that looked link Bang and Olufsen has designed it. But yet again it had those tinted rear windows.

It was only that evening over dinner Mrs Dracunculus says "you know what, those tinted windows they're doing now are really sad."

"How come?" says I.

"Well you notice the two cars we'v ebeen driving have lots of seats for sproglets in the back? Well the tinted glass is there to stop evil nasty peedofils looking at your kids on the school run."

Bloody hell she's right. This is EXACTLY what its for and there is obviously the demand for it - I also notice that its only fitted to the more expensive models for each marque so it's also a subtle marketing ploy of "if you want to protect your kids then you should really by the LX instead of the L model". The sales guy obviously never brought the glass issue to our attention as we quite clearly did not have little hatchlings in tow.

Now how utterly fucked in the head to you have to be to think that peedofils are waiting to look at your kids through your car window, not only that but it is such a threat you need to have smoked glass in the back of your motor!

On the other hand top marks to Toyota for spotting that gap in the market.




* roadworthyness document for my non UK reader.

Burn the Witch!

Ah, nothing like a good paedophile panic in the morning to set you up for the day, good old paedophiles, the witches of the 21st century, moral panic, guilt-free hatred and a bit of tittilation thrown in for good measure. Where would we be without them - hating someone else presumably.

Today's panic has been running all day on Sky news (which my employer thoughtfully lets us all watch on giant fucking plasma screens suspended on the walls) and it's even got the internet in it - yay we got the whole cunting package here boys!

Online paedophiles are cruising a virtual world to act out their sexual fantasies with young children. Sky News reporter Jason Farrell has been investigating the darker side to the virtual world Second Life - and found an area called "Wonderland" that is being used by child abusers.

Oh Noes! Poor online children innocently going online and being targeted by nasty, evil peedofils! Shut down Second Life now. No shut down the whole of the InterWeb just to be sure.

Only...

Wonderland is a virtual children's playground where paedophiles cruise and kids are solicited," said Farrell. ... "After talking to one child I was offered a range of sordid and sick sexual acts.

Errr... well let me spell this out for you Mr Farrel - YOU WERE NOT SPEAKING TO A CHILD! What you were talking to was some sad sack in ill-fitting polyester trousers and round glasses called Raymond who is 32 and still lives at home with his mother. If you went round to Club Fur in Second Life do you think that the six foot tall raccoons and foxes you are chatting to have fluffy tails and paws in real life you fucking moron.

Look I hold no brief for people who get their jollies for fantasizing about sex with minors but surely it's better for them all to be in here where they are doing imaginary things to each other with badly animated pixels than actually out in the real world actually doing anything physical to an actual child. And no I don't buy this "oh it feeds their fantasies and they'll go and act them out." arse the NSPCC comes out with. I don't go out and deliberately drive my car into pedestrians and gun down policemen after I've played a bit of Grand Theft Auto. If anything this might just keep the lid on a few people and actually keep them from really doing real. But what if you were to innocently stroll into "wonderland" get into something there (or any online environment) that freaks you out or someone starts doing something you don't like?

You see that power lead going to your computer? Give that a good hard tug at the end that's plugged into the wall and the problem will immediately go away.

This was just bone fucking idle tabloid journalism at its worst, sloppier than a bag full of raccoon puke. Mr Farrell, for this piece of bullshit you deserve strapping to a table and raping with elephant dildos.

And not in a virtual way either.


(Disclaimer: I have never once been on Second Life, my first life is too busy to permit it and if my internet connection sucked any harder than it does I'd probably enjoy it)