The anticipation of death is far worse than death itself

another triumphant return

2021-12-01T00:16:23Z

it has come to my attention that many cats i used to interact with on this archaic social media platform had purged their journals. what a bunch of unorganised grabasstic pieces of shit. i mean i can't really talk, because i don't update this shit regularly anymore either. but at least i didn't purge all this embarrassing shit, like so many other fickle fucks. plus, Count Bombcat is fuckin BACK once again up in this cockcunt, and i'm gonna start writing some shit. you best put your cumsock on your left nut and be ready for some noise.

Rappity fappity

2018-08-19T05:07:30Z

so i was making some hippity beats the other day, and putting some lyrics to said beats. i was never one to write silly gangsta-influenced material; in fact, my shit always tended to be contemplative and reflective. while fuckin with the track, i was also reading a self-defence blog (hello, fellow RBSD nerds). i then started thinking about all the times i've been bullied and gotten into fights, as well as some occasions when i've been rolled and shit like that. after a trip down that particular memory lane, i'd realised that every time i'd been picked on or rolled by some knuckle-headed fuckwit, it just so happened that that fuckwit was a hippity hoppity-loving fuckbag.

my personal experiences aside, just look at the situation here in my old town today - i'm willing to bet that most of the assaults, carjackings, robberies, and other naughty things are being committed by rap dickheads. i mean, i really fucking doubt that a bunch of goths or metalheads trashed that service station last night, or that a bunch of black metal elitists bashed and robbed those kids at the shopping centre. i would bet at least $5 that the bunch of fucknuts who broke into that old lady's house and proceeded to assault her do not listen to post-rock shoegaze. it's always those pesky hippity fucks trying to live out their tarded gangsta fantasies.

yes, i know that rap is a multi-faceted beast; there are silly gangstas who can barely put two words together, and there are serious lyricists who are all about the art itself, not gangsta bullshit. however, reflecting upon my experiences and the shit one sees in the news, it's always the hip hop culture knobs who are causing all the shit. it's always the gruddamn homeboys.

thus, when i make rap music, i feel like i'm making tracks to entertain troglodyte knobs i very much dislike. fuck that shit. i will no longer make dumbass hippity crap, or contribute to that culture in any way, shape or form. yes, not every rap fan is a house-invading, wallet-rolling gangsta dickhead. but the vast majority of house-invading, wallet-rolling gangsta dickheads (as well as your garden variety trouble-causing "tough cunts") are connected to hip hop, in one way or another. and i refuse to make music for those very dickheads.

Count Bombcat over and out.

Shit, it's that time of year again

2018-07-22T11:23:40Z

Yep, that time of year. It's the middle of winter, so the gruddamn fluff show was the order of the weekend once again. It was great. Sticking to the time-honoured fluff show tradition, I sat around the accom, ate snags, drank horrible premix and listened to songs.

Today I was reading in the car, and some old cunt put his takeaway container on the bonnet and fucked off. I was ever so pissed. I waited until he left and, believing the container to be rubbish, angrily tossed it into the nearest trash can. I got back into the car and resumed reading books about things. The fucktarded fossil returned some time later and proceeded to fucking circle my car and other vehicles in the vicinity, trying to figure out where the fuck he left his food. He just wouldn't stop circling the car like a fucking vulture on MDMA. I'm not sure he even realised that I was in the car. He kept disappearing out of view and coming back again. At one point I feared he was going to return with a rifle and blow me the fuck away for stealing his shitass baked potato. Eventually he fucked off into the horizon for good. Let that be a lesson for you, cunt: people's cars are not your fucking kitchen table. Fuck yourself, assface.

A good job ad for a good job

2017-07-03T12:24:18Z

SENIOR SHITCUNT - CLIENT RIMJOBS AND INTERNATIONAL QUEEF LIAISON

Company Description

Buttpimple International is a globally anal executive services company operating in over 40 countries. We advise people on queefing, rimming, fisting, defecating and urinating on web developer startups and their representatives all over the world. What sets Buttpimple apart is not what we defecate on, but when and how we do it. Shitting on a cunt's head at 5 in the morning as opposed to 6 in the afternoon has a tremendous impact on queef client outcomes. We piss and shit differently and are truly enterprising in all matters of international queefing. Buttpimple is the company where creative and entrepreneurial pissers and shitters with high levels of lethal ass gas choose to make a difference to web developer startups the world over.

Job Description

Our Queef Butt Advisory Division is situated within the wider Butthole Occupier enterprise, which boasts an unrivalled array of queefing and weaponised defecation services, buoyed by the highly effective Piss On A Cunt (POAC) model, which allows Buttpimple to consistently meet our clients' international queefing needs.

We are currently looking for an International Queef Liaison Representative to join our absolutely deplorable national business at the Senior Queef Executive level in our Moscow team.

Key responsibilities include:

- Ensure the company receives new defamation suits daily
- Working closely with other Queef Services products and slapping managers in the face with both soft and hard dildos every morning.
- Working resiliently and efficiently to destroy working relationships with vendors and internal stakeholders, diminishing Buttpimple's reputation in the marketplace on a daily basis
- Developing and implementing strategies to foster a highly toxic working environment
- Queefing on clients, visitors and internal stakeholders

This role offers you the ideal opportunity to build your profile with an established International Queefing business. You will be supported in your efforts by bullying managers, toxic team members, a completely clueless leadership team and a top-performing Queef Services brand. Your wilful disregard for Buttpimple and all that it stands for will assist you in fostering complete public disdain for Buttpimple both locally and on the international stage.

Qualifications

To be considered, you will bring the following expertise to this role:

- Highly disorganised, undisciplined, illiterate and highly insensitive to clients' needs
- Absolutely no understanding whatsoever of anything, really (you've got to be a Real Dumb Cunt)
- Non-existent relationship management skills (you'll be extremely antisocial and strive to achieve unfavourable client outcomes)
- Proven ability to destroy a company both financially and reputation-wise within approximately three months after commencement
- Highly motivated to drive Buttpimple into the ground and create as many lawsuits as possible
- Assaulting fellow employees in daily meetings, pissing on managers from behind as they eat lunch
- Flinging faeces at potential clients and visitors to the office

We look forward to receiving your absolutely useless and laughable resume today!

Sandwich seeking employment

2017-07-03T06:28:49Z

i saw an ad on a job board that said, "Looking for Cooking / Sandwich." decided to write the advertiser a nice cover letter.

dear Employer

i am writing to apply for the position of Cook / Sandwich.

i'm an extremely tasty and experienced sandwich. my experience includes containing bacon, pickle, egg, and sometimes even lettuce. i am able to be seasoned with both mayonnaise and tomato sauce. i have even been made with ciabatta bread, and I also have strong experience with other types of bread.

over the course of my ten-year career as a sandwich, i'd accumulated a wealth of experience in being eaten by a wide variety of customers, all of whom reported experiencing the highest degree of enjoyment whilst ingesting me.

i am confident that a sandwich with my degree of experience will be an asset to your kitchen team. please don't hesitate to contact me at any time to further discuss this piquant and mutually beneficial opportunity.

regards
John the sandwich

Ya talentless hack!

2017-05-23T10:41:08Z

if you don't have an innate talent for writing, no amount of writing degrees will help you. if you don't have an innate talent for programming, no amount of programming degrees will help you. there's some shit you just gotta be born with. too many knobs and knobettes go to uni thinking they're actually gonna get good at shit for which they ain't got no aptitude. lel.

think about it - if you've never enjoyed crafting beautifully written sentences, and if you've never sat down and simply wrote, just because you do it well, then how the fuck are you going to just up and learn the art of writing by doing a university degree? i mean, would you do an engineering degree if you know for a fact that you don't have a mechanical aptitude and hate numbers?

now, don't get it twisted - there's nothing wrong with not being good at writing, or anything else, for that matter. my point is that too many people believe universities to be some crazy-ass magical oracle factories, where some complete dumb cunt can walk in, stay for three years, and then emerge as some super-genius. wrong, my droogies. if you hate numbers, stay the fuck away from engineering. if you don't have a natural ability when it comes to the written word, that Master of Writing ain't gonna help you. you may pass the coursework, but you'll still be a mediocre-ass writer, because you just ain't got that shit au naturel.

stick to what you do well, droogies. and for fuck's sake, don't study web development. that shit is for the lowest form of life on Earth - hipsters.

Righ-wing antifascist super-left-wing statists!

2017-05-21T11:48:15Z

content note: This Is A Political Post.

that's right, cunts, it's time to get political. i'll skip the whole beating around the bush thing and get straight to the point. now, you may think to yourself, "is this cunt really a political blogger, offending and educating thousands of readers daily? is he indeed the triggerer of the lefties, the infuriator of the right-wingers, and just a generally unpleasant writer who is just out to cause havoc in the big bad political world?"

the answer to the question posed in the above paragraph is quite simple, my friend: i am here to tell you about the best fucking fish'n'chips I've ever had.

it all started yesterday morning, at a nondescript cooking school running classes for NEET assholes who can't cook anything more sophisticated than dog shit on toast. i quietly listened to the chef's instructions as she told us all about seafood and how to make it taste really fucking good. we got chopping, sautéing, skewering, de-boning, frying, and had a jolly good time. then, we had all that shit for breakfast, and it all tasted great. they even gave us a glass of wine. fuck, what a day.

today, i drove around meaninglessly, as i tend to do when i need to clear my head and think rationally about Trump's visit to Saudi Arabia. i'm also sick and fucking tired of people making fun of Trump's hair. i'm convinced that the detractors are simply jealous.

after a good deal of spinning the wheel and being offended by big hyper-masculine four wheel drives, i ended up in a beautiful suburb called Boobturdsville. i go there often, and i always buy fish'n'chips there. best-tasting shit ever, period. pre-menstrual tension. big juicy tits.

Straight up gangsta shyt

2017-05-04T11:06:54Z

ahh, perfect winter night. grouse feeds, a few shots of Finlandia goodness, berry strudel in the oven, and an amazingly relaxing Cryo Chamber compilation on the old Chromecast. this is the perfect recipe for super-comfy over-9000 winter evening of ambient drone'n'inebriation.

winter is, lyk, litrully the comfiest time of year. it's a time of crazy soup, mulled wine, fat-ass blankets, vodka shots and bitching hot chocolate. winter is litrully the absolute shit, because it rids the world of summercunts. it's nice to be able to walk around the city on a cold and rainy day and not have to wade through herds of half-naked, loud, aggro, short shorts-and-Bingtang-wifebeater-wearing summercunts.

you know how you walk through a park in summer and there are summercunt couples making out on top of each other everywhere you look? well, you don't have that problem in winter, because all those cunts are depressed and hibernating. the parks are empty, and it's fucking beautiful. it's funny how thousands of summercunts just disappear from the streets in winter. i wonder what kind of winter summercunt wonderland they travel to in order to escape the oppressive forces of my favourite time of year.

Inchoate

2017-05-02T14:01:29Z

well, shit. maybe the old homeboy still has it.

memories run back to old anxieties quietly
i guess she's finally tired of my impiety, waking me violently
been dodging bullets, but you can't run forever
and the bad weather will eventually find you, see
alcohol and slow beats wash away these throes of defeat
woefully bleak and drifting, i'll flow 'til i sleep
and i'm not a palm reader, but i know what tomorrow will bring
more grime from all directions, i'm like a worm on a string
but i'm determined to swing that shit my way, and one day

but i'm letting the beat dissolve my tensions
penning simple rhymes at the pub, counting my blessings

(expand reppin chaddy verse. list goon, woodstocks, underachievement, changing hood.)
and i stay pressin chapters, stay reppin chadstone
my old house is gone, no fake gangstas flexin
used to be a rough hood, and now my old street is full of fuckin mansions
the landscape is changing
a stark contrast to the days of cheap sixers of woodstocks
drug-fucked cunts and vacant blocks
used to dress hood and I still do
used to bump X and Shady

some distant cold winter in '06
i was convinced i knew all the right answers to this shit
now i'm up to my old tricks, haven't done a fucking thing in ten years
but slam beers and watch the clocks tick

i focus on the poetry side of the game
i don't smoke weed and don't go to shows i'm too much of a hermit
i'm a shut-in poet,
nothing lifts me up like some incendiary bars
inner-city crime rate so high maybe 'cause ppl ain't affording rent
scores of young homies living in vans and shoddy tents
a nihilistic outlook helps soften the struggle
learning to chip away at shit rather than giving up

hook
chasing ghosts, forever running

Ctrl+U

2017-04-30T05:47:27Z

cdn. glyphicons. bootstrap. link rel. jumbotron. inline-block. do you understand me? good. this means you are well on your way to becoming an arrogant, manbun-sporting, more-hipster-than-thou drunkcunt-cum-webdev from the ultra-hip inner northern suburbs of Melburn.

do you need formal qualifications to obtain gainful employment as a buttmunching front-end shitcoder? you could indeed argue that some cunt-faced recruitment consultant who knows absolutely fucking nothing about programming - web or otherwise - would send your resume straight to the bin if you have formal qualifications but absolutely no gruddamn demos on github.

anyway, why would an accomplished and revered music journalist such as yours truly suddenly develop an interest in web development? webdev is a tyrannical and unforgiving field where one's skillset is virtually obsolete by the time some snotty cunt of a bartender finishes making one of those elaborate wanker cocktails ordered by some wanker webdev after their first week in some wanker innery-city startup.

Metal borsch session

2017-04-29T07:19:46Z

today, i dragged ass out of bed and went to the shops to get borsch ingredients. it's almost winter, and winter is borsch and vodka season, 'cause i'm a dirty Slav motherfucker. suck my ass, blow me, do my laundry, and don't ask questions.

went to veg shop, which was full of old cunts moving at the speed of a stoned snail at a Bongripper gig. these motherfuckers possess absolutely no sense of personal space whatsoever and will mow you the fuck down in a hearbeat. as i navigated around the hordes of wrinkled zombies, i was tempted to put a boot into those cunts, Beckham-style.

having acquired the ingredients, i made a metal playlist on youtube and made borsch while listening to metal. Misery Index, Machine Head, Molotov Solution, and Chimaira provided the soundtrack to my fucking amazing borsch making skills. my borsch is tastier than your mum's butthole with scallops and the finest garlic aioli. nothing beats my borsch. if you think you may have the skills in borsch that may rival my skills in borsch, hit me the fuck up and we'll do a cook-off. your defeat is guaranteed, you pugwashed cunt. go back to your two-minute noods and get fucked.

Count Bombcat over and out.

Memory lane is a shitty dirt road in Siberia

2017-04-28T16:58:26Z

it's three in the morning, which is way past my old cunt bedtime, even though it's a friday. i've just spent a coupla hours reading through old entries of mine, reminiscing and cackling like a right fucking moron. fuck, i used to be a funny cunt a little bit, ay. let's compare and constrast: i used to be a funny cunt, and now i'm a boring old cunt who writes boring shit. i no longer have anything interesting to offer this shithouse mega-blog called livejournal.

it is indeed the bitter truth, my droogies - gone are my witty quips and mega-funny descriptions of crazy outings with all manner of huge cuntfaces. i no longer go out drinking all the time; i don't play drums; i don't rap (although i did make some beats earlier this year, using good old Loops); i don't go to gigs; i don't blow in your mum's face nearly as much as i used to; i listen to shithouse deathcore, woeful ball-shrivelling blackgaze and amazing dark ambient (thanks, Cryo Chamber), and still love the Bizkit; i read about existentialism and nihilism.

song stuck in head: that titanic song. no, freal, it goes a lil sumn lyk -

where are you nooooooow, titanic
under the seaaaaaaaa
under the seeeeeee-eeee.

Yes, we have tried the meringue pie. Now fuck off.

2017-04-27T12:32:28Z

Back again

2017-04-26T06:35:19Z

yep yep, back again, tell a friend. eh, whodaphuc are you kidding - you have no friends. friendless is best, because unnecessary peer pressure only serves to get one down.

take me, for example: right now, i'm at work, and i'm friendless as fuck. can't tell you shit about it, because it's classified. at this point, you can let your imagination run free, and you may even begin to wonder if i'm one of those extremely skilled and super-evil Russian hackers. i'd suggest that you would be only half correct if you venture to make that assumption right about now. okay, back to work. work is good for you.

Industrial musings

2013-06-13T02:39:18Z

The legendary electro-industrial beasts Front Line Assembly are all set to unleash their latest offering, Echogenetic, in July. I, for one, am waiting with bated breath. Quite frankly, Airmech has pissed me off no end and I can't wait to hear some fresh, energetic shit to wash away that disappointment. According to keyboardist Jeremy Inkel, no guitars will be heard on Echogenetic; it's going to be a purely electronic affair. Just the way I like it. I lie; I do enjoy some tasteful licks here and there (think Implode). But I know that where guitars are absent, Mr Leeb will surely compensate by banging out some heavy-duty electronics to maintain FLA's hard-as-nails integrity.

Speaking of integrity, 80s and early 90s electo-industrial songs sounds incredible on modern headphones with a decent bass boost. There's something viscerally real about the unpolished, relentless and raw synth and bass lines from that whole era. Undoubtedly, the writers of the soundtrack for the first Command & Conquer drew at least some of their inspiration from these militaristic and foreboding sounds to create what is, in my opinion, the best PC game soundtrack ever produced. At this moment I am listening to Clock DVA, a band that is one of the best examples of the sound I'm describing.

After all, this music was never meant to be perfected in expensive studios and tweaked and polished into oblivion. Only certain bands in this genre - yes, I am talking about Front Line Assembly - should be allowed the privilege of producing the fuck out of electro-industrial works. All imitators and lesser known outfits should stick to the old school sound quality formula and never deviate - they simply do not deserve to have the quality enjoyed by the greats. To hell with evolution and all that "sound evolves and bands move on" thing - I'm a staunch purist when it comes to this genre and I believe that only a select few acts deserve a big, refined sound.

...Just had the pleasure of hearing a track from Echogenetic dubbed Killing Fields. The song starts off as meat-and-potatoes, no-bullshit FLA, and even reminds one of the Tactical Neural Implant sound. But then - shock, horror - the chorus has a wub. That's right. The first half the chorus features a fully filthee dubstep drop. Argh! But fuck it - FLA have always borrowed elements of popular electronic music and added them to their tunes. This was always done very elegantly and non-forcefully, with the snippets merely serving to enhance FLA's signature sound. To that end, the dubstep elements in Killing Fields are used sparingly and tastefully - they've been ingeniously filtered through the FLA sieve and grafted onto the signature FLA skeleton of driving basslines and catchy strings.

Re: Непереводимое слово

2013-01-04T01:06:20Z

I am cyberpenning this entry at a Paradise Apartments in Lakes Entrance. Between keystrokes I am sipping a cold Johnnie Walker & Coke and munching Arnott’s Country Cheese crackers. At the property across the road there are some sheep and fluffy horse-bears (alpacas). Before gracing this beachy joint with our presence, we spent last night in Bermagui (getting gooey in the ‘Gui), NSW, a typical coastal Strayan town whose stunningly picturesque beauty is rivaled only by the breathtaking views one may enjoy in East Samarkand.
The Lakes Entrance beach has a postcard-worthy appearance, although it doesn’t come close to the Playboy centerfold awesomeness of the ‘Gui beach. One may notice that the sand line of here’s beach is very long and unusually wide (that’s what she said) and the sand makes farting noises when trodden upon. Unfortunately, Lakes Entrance is populated with some rather unsavoury humanoids, in stark contrast to the striking nature surrounding this sunny town.
Needless to say, the much overhyped and overpromised end of the world did not occur at the end of last year, which is a damn shame indeed; such a rare event would have made for some excellent entry fodder. Nevertheless, 2012’s turned out to be very different to that of 2011, which I spent on one of the cold and snowy asteroids of the CIS Planetary System, sinking bitey shots of Nemiroff and enjoying all manner of tastylicious Communist cuisineses prepared by my folks. I enjoyed Xmas/NYE ’12 with my girlfriend and her family in the Blue Mountains, having visited a slew of nifty towns (including the nation’s capital) beforehand. Now that I’m on the subject of cuisineses, please note that the Mexican place in Lakes Entrance serves driveway-flavoured corn chips.
At times, I enjoy good-looking bush and new places and natureful nature as much as the next thingo, but enjoy spending lots of time on the road I do not. In fact, my bitch factor gets turned way up and percolates at the Kanye level when such situations continually present themselves. Yes, I happen to be one of those nasty and grumpy couch potato types who just do not enjoy travelling, no matter how exciting the trip or how exotic (or otherwise) the destination. I struggle to understand the wild-eyed backpackers who willingly place themselves in potential danger by travelling to potentially dangerous faraway shitholes and willingly pay for the pleasure with their hard-earned cash. Getting stuck in the middle of a dark Romanian highway due to a faulty Combie van just isn’t my idea of fun. There goes my travel writing career.
As I write, I realise that my ability to pen a decent entry bears a direct relationship to my inability to access the World Wide Web, which just happens to be the case at the present moment. Shit just doesn’t get done when I’m online, due in large part to the much-maligned F5 syndrome, whereby one just has constantly to refresh Facebook or some forum populated by honourable keyboard warriors to see if new shit dun gots poasted.
In fact, I am convinced that the F5 syndrome is part of the reason it’s difficult nowadays to locate a well-written blog in the big ol’ blogosphere. Like, you know, actual writing – actually producing original and well-crafted prose, not recycling content like a bitch and posting a metric crudtonne of links, pictures and Kim Kardashian’s retweets of Donald Trump’s retweets. So yea, I like deffenantly gots to lvl up this whole entry business a few notches. No matter how messed up my day turns out, it is never a day wasted as long as I’ve written something. I cannot think of anything more therapeutic and cathartic than writing.

Happy new beer, cunts!

Writer's Block: The more you know

2011-02-20T05:29:59Z

Absolutely, because corporations and governments are master schemers whose extensive mindfucking expertise includes even more extensive obscuring of information that may or may not land them in hot water.

Sites like Wikileaks simply force the big dicks to be transparent and accountable for their fuckups, should they occur. The governments want citizens to be accountable, so what makes governments exempt from elementary accountability to the citizens?

The corporations are even worse than governments - these shifty motherfuckers have egos the size of Jupiter and sincerely believe they can get away with anything and everything.

Also, before you start screaming 'defamation', remember - if the information that is exposed to the public is nothing but the truth, it's not defamation. Defamation is when someone makes false claims to damage an entity's reputation.

So yeah, like totally bring on that uncovering stuff, it's like awesome.

munching on the big succulent dick of the system

2011-02-16T11:25:52Z

skeeter, the man! dropping off the grid like ain't nothin but a thang.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRpMAt7Rbv8

the dude is literally my hero. what i wouldn't give to drop off the grid at will, entirely, making al sapone and living like tyler fucking durden. but alas, the system that imprisons us will not allow such heresy to take place. if i'm off the grid, i'm not keeping the banks plump, not feeding the coffers of the energy companies, not paying taxes that line the pockets of corrupt cops and self-entitled politicians who spend $400 a day on food on their overseas trips... really not good for the system, losing another obedient drone.

but hey, instead of just accepting fate like a bitch, why not move towards your goals, bit by bit? no matter how outlandish the said goals, you can chip away at them, one day at a time - and with time, you might just get what you wished for.

i'm not an anarchist, but as i grow older, i observe the system in more detail each day, and i have to say that it's got us by the balls. a very well-engineered, well-oiled machine - an extremely profitable one. kudos to the big dicks who feed off our hard work. you know the drill - school (cash for system), uni (cash for system), job (cash for system), house, wife, kids, tv, cars (cash for system). the big dicks use fear to get us to comply and to buy - because if you don't, you just don't fit in, you see, you don't live up.

march the fuck on, kids :)

It's the return of the... oh wait, no way. You're kidding.

2011-01-30T02:34:51Z

and so, after a long leave of absence, the monstrous LJ entity known as bombcat has now returned to this pathetic online community to pen more drivel for a plethora of unknown readers.

let's cut the bullshit and get straight to it, shall we? the first item on the agenda is a gripe about triple j top 100 and the big day out. the only thing that rivals the utter shittiness of these two phenomena is gillar's fucking flood levy. fuck that shit right in its green ass. but back to the gripe. having perused the triple j hottest 100 "songs", i've come to the conclusion that the australian music "industry" is in fact in much deeper and smellier shit than i had previously thought.

whilst i admit that i've never been a fan of australian mainstream-ish alternative "music", there is an undeniable shittiness about the whole top 100 list. fun fact - that god farken awful duck sauce song called barbara streisand has made it to NUMBER 15. simply put, that track is easily the most unlistenable garbage ever to hit radiowaves anywhere. it's the musical equivalent of that dude sitting on a glass jar and having it break inside his butt. triple j listeners, however, have deemed it worthy of the number 15 spot. i don't know whether to laugh or to cry.

the rest of the top 100 list isn't much better than duck sauce's monstrosity. it's permeated with utter hipster shit of galactic proportions. it's a shite state of affairs, tommy. i close my eyes and try to imagine the type of dickhead who actually enjoys anything on that list, and i simply weep for humanity.

now let us take a look at this year's big day out. before i examine this here festival, let's just say i haven't been to a bdo since 2001 - and for good reason. from 2002 onwards, the lineups have gotten progressively shittier, making me wonder how the fest stays in business. the answer to that is simple - if the triple j top 100 list is anything to go by, the logical conclusion is that your average aussie enjoys a vast array of incredibly shitty music, thereby ensuring bdo's success each year.

rammstein are back, only 10 years later, to headline the bdo again - the only redeeming quality of the shithouse fest this year. bdo used to be quite a heavy affair, with lots of grunge, metal and decent alt-rock acts. bdo 2011's lineup, on the other hand, is the reflection of the current shitty state of the music industry as a whole - 80% of the lineup is comprised of terrible indie and emo "acts". it's fucking disgusting. soundwave isn't shaping up much better either - emo and scenecore shit dominates the lineup. welcome to the death of some of the best festivals straya has ever known!

enjoy your heatstroke, bdo kids.

bombcat @ 2006-10-19T12:38:00

2006-10-19T02:56:03Z

it has been ruled by me that this journal is a stupid thing, therefore the decision was made regretfully (not) to cease writing in, or fucking with, this journal in any way, shape or form from this point on. i hereby declare this entry to be my last. stiff shit for those silent fans who will miss my exorbitant writing.

fuck def jam, fuck the world, and most of all fuck YOU.

general mudz over and out.

bombcat @ 2006-10-19T09:42:00

2006-10-18T23:44:46Z

i'm majorly fucked from circuit training. muscles aching, and i'm fucking exhausted. the results are showing, though - last week i couldn't do even 5 push-ups after a round on the skipping ropes, now i can do 20 without dropping on the knee. the left is getting stronger as well, i can handle a round of shooting out jabs without my arm falling off. fucking loving it.

bombcat @ 2006-10-18T13:29:00

2006-10-18T03:31:54Z

line of the month:

"... I'll shit on you in reverse and suck you into the brown hole"

-- Canibus, Mic Club - The Curriculum

circuit training tonight.

the week is fucked now, but i love it:

monday night: uni
tuesday night: boxing
wednesday night: boxing
thursday night: uni

a good mix of mental and physical workouts.

BRING DA SHIT

bombcat @ 2006-10-12T16:57:00

2006-10-12T07:00:01Z

shit i've been up to ...

boxing, singing, hanging my ass over highway bridges, skating, dv8, shitting, beating my shit, running, boxing, bullshitting, bludging, studying, eating healthy, being stealthy, aiming to get wealthy, sleeping with your momma.

and don't tell me to watch my mouth - these lips were on your momma's pussy last night.

bombcat @ 2006-09-26T13:56:00

2006-09-26T04:05:17Z

it's amazing what vocal conditioning and exercise can do for one's lung capacity and stamina. i've been doing vocal conditioning for an hour each day and going for hour-long runs, and i feel fucking superhuman. three weeks ago, i couldn't sing 'desire to fire' the whole way through without falling on my ass and almost fainting, and last night i'd discovered that i can bounce around and sing 'replica' without losing my breath! amazing shit.

bombcat @ 2006-09-21T08:50:00

2006-09-20T22:55:29Z

Supremacy by Hatebreed was well worth the wait. Fucking AMAZING album! The production is tight as a nun's cunt, Jamey's vocal attack has never sounded better, and the overall musicianship just fucking shines altogether. Every single song is sheer perfection. Such gems as Destroy everything and Never let it die just spark the urge in me to mow down everything negative that stands in my path. If you claim to like hardcore and you don't go out and buy this album RIGHT NOW, you're a fucking poser who listens to Good Charlotte.
To sum up the album in a couple of words - 'constructive hatred.' Not just hating shit for the sake of hating shit; this is about directing your hate at all the things in your life that drag you down, empowering yourself to do better, and achieving Supremacy Of Self.

SUPREMACY, HATEBREED - 10/10 - BEST FUCKING ALBUM OF THE YEAR

in other news... fuck you, if you want news buy the Herald Sun.