“Psychiatrists assessing self-confessed Norwegian mass killer Anders Behring Breivik have concluded that he is suffering from paranoid schizophrenia.
They believe he was in a psychotic state both during and after the twin attacks on 22 July that led to the deaths of 77 people and injured 151.”
Insane……….gotta say, I never saw that coming?
I was just about to go and watch my weekly fix of ‘Dexter’ and the ‘Walking Dead’ when I stumbled across a story in the news about a Youtube video which shows a woman hurling racist abuse around a Croydon Tram like it is going out of fashion!
When I watched the footage, I was disgusted by what I saw.
RACIST TWAT ON A TRAM
Her rant sounded like it was taken directly from a British National Party rally and echoes similar sentiments that I often hear whispered in and around Croydon town.
The woman sounds like she’s drunk or on drugs to me; or has she just come from a gang bang session organised by a group of skinheads? She must be off her noggin to do that on a Croydon tram in the first place!
I’m surprised she never got stabbed for daring to talk over MC Addington who can be seen freeystyling to some ‘sikk beats’ that were banging out of the loudspeaker on his Blackberry phone. Riot plunder innit Bruv!?
The fact that she’s brain damaging a small child with such poisonous behaviour is far worse than a rabid whore spewing random gibberish to strangers?
Clearly the adults find this unacceptable, react and respond accordingly, a child can’t? The kid child will probably grow up to become equally ignorant and that’s the true crime here? It’s child abuse isn’t it???
I love how everyone on the tram eventually turns on the woman and that someone had the gumption to report her to the police. Bravo!
For whatever reason, writing this thread reminded me of a couple of occasions where people have flicked through http://www.antikrish.com and conveyed their opinon that the content within my site is either “borderline racist” or “A bit close to the mark”. To them I simply say, wang.
The concept of my site has always been to make light humour of my mongrel-like ancestry and try to get others to consider their own uniqueness by doing so. It is a bonus that I occasionally offend Daily Fail readers and right wing muppets?
People just like the tram woman………hope she seems this thread after she’s done her bit of porridge! You’re goin’ daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahn you scchhllllaaaaaaaaaaag!
Dan Renton Skinner is a comedy genius; I’ve just watched his ‘Angelos Epithemiou and Friends’ DVD and thought it was absolutely hilarious.
I’ve been a huge fan of Dan’s character ‘Angelos Epithemiou’ for a couple of years now; most of you will probably know him from ‘Shooting Stars’ and it’s great to see him logging the limelight on stage. I think Dan’s a very underated comedian and a breath of fresh air compared to the Waitrose loyalty card shopper’s favourite Michael ‘I’m posh and like to squeel posh people jokes like an educated piggy wiggy!’ McIntyre.
For those of you who haven’t seen Angelos before, have a quick mooch on youtube and savour the unique surreal, witty and obscure banter; he’s worth watching for his fantastic repetoir of facial expressions and inimitable awkwardness on stage.
If you’ve ever worked in a shop or other vocation where you deal with the general public; I’ll lay money on it that you’ve come across someone like Angelos Epithemiou and you are instantly reminded of them?!
I think that’s the true genius of the character Dan created!
Angelos Epithemiou on Soccer AM
My brother Brian is an absolute loon when it comes to his love of fishing; he’ll set up his rod whether it’s freezing in the winter, cast out into gale force winds or suffer intense mid-summer heat out in Spain whilst living off of the pears from surrounding trees.
Today Bri is fishing down at Bury Hill Lakes which is situated in beautiful Dorking, Surrey and today is his 42nd birthday; by Sunday afternoon, he will have spent 3 days fishing. Nutter.
I arrived at the lake around midday following an altercation with a cyclist on the main road. The whole thing enraged me, and I think it would be a good thing if I blogged it to get it out of my system once and for all.
I overshot the turn-off to the lake and had to do a 3 point turn which seemed straight forward because nothing was behind or in front of me down a very visable main road road, apart from a distant cyclist who was about 300 yards away; so I decided to start the first phase of the manouver.
By the time I’d completed it, he had caught up to me, at this time I was sideways blocking the lane I intended to go back down on and my bumper was flush facing the curb at a 90 degree angle; I had deliberately left the cyclist enough space to easily go around me, and waved him on to do so, bearing in mind there was still absolutely nobody else down the road whatsover.
At this point, the lycra clad little man (who looked a little like Richard Dreyfuss) started swearing at me. Ever the peacemaker, I apologetically raised my hand up (even though I don’t think I was in the wrong) but this was not good enough!!
He kept going on and on and on, incessantly, before going around my car, swearing as he went and pulled into the road that I had initially missed. I took a deep breath and then continued on and turned in to the country lane to find him cockily sat at the top of the road on his bike to stop me coming in; I think his intention was to get me to hit his bike.
I parked up, got out the car and felt my blood start to boil as the guy hurled insult after insult at me without pause; what a self righteous prick? I got the feeling that this pathetic little man was the sort of dick-less individual who Jeremy Clarkson loves to rant about in his annual book that comes out in time for Christmas. The guy clearly had a problem with motorists which is amusing because I could see that he had brought his bike up this way using a roof rack on his car!!
I have no love for Mr. Clarkson, but now I can understand his point. Why didn’t the guy just go around me in the first place without being such a martyr?
He called me something rather derogatory and that was it, I snapped, I calmly went to the boot and retrieved my tyre arm and told him in no uncertain terms to pop his bike back onto his car’s roof rack and then go and enjoy his gay little sport somewhere else whilst getting as far away from me as he could; and quickly!
He then threatened to call the police before driving off; I assume he’s at home watching Strictly Come Dancing tonight with his ‘meal for one’ from M&S and carrot juice. Part of me wishes I had caved his fucking head in to be honest. What a wanker!
Brian’s calming influence was much needed and I drank in the tranquil surroundings of the Surrey Hills before we arrived at his ‘swim’ pitch. Bri showed me around, almost like a fishing version of MTV’s ‘Cribs’. “Here’s my tent, here’s my chair, here’s my rods, here’s my bitches!” living like a pimp down by the lake.
After disappearing into the tent, Bri came out sporting a bright yellow furry hat; a Winnie the Pooh hat in fact.
BRIAN’S ONE-MAN-DEMONSTRATION AGAINST PEOPLE WHO TAKE FISHING TOO SERIOUSLY
Bri proceeded to tell me that the hat was in protest of a rather sad individual who had reported him to the lake authorities for no real reason at all; sounds like the guy is a bit of a prat and somewhat jealous of Brian given that my brother is a naturally talented fisherman and probably feels threatened by the fact that Bri had recently caught a whopping big Carp only weeks before and has a picture up of him holding the fish on the Lake’s noticeboard.
Brian’s rival has obviously been drinking from the same water supply as the Richard-Dreyfuss-lookalike cyclist cock-knocker I’d just encountered because you could tell that he thought he owned the World as well!!! This was confirmed when the man decided to use a ‘bait boat’; an offensive contraption that caught my eye, boldly gliding into Nick’s (Brian’s friend) fishing area, which in fishing terms is a bit like Germany invading Poland.
A ‘bait boat’ is a multi-purpose remote controlled boat which a modern ‘fisherman’ can use to deploy his bait thanks to the bay doors in the hull which open with a push of a button. The bait boat can also drag the line/hook/rig out to the desired part of the water rather than casting. I call it an offensive contraption because to me, it just reeks of laziness and using one is poor form???
A good angler spends years honing their skills so that they can repeatedly cast out and hit the same spot after they have baited it using a catapult; Brian informs me that some of the boats come equipped with sonar so that you can see where the fish are? Sonar!?! Where’s the sport in that?
I appreciate that technology is part of modern fishing and can be found in the reels, bait alarms and even the bait itself because it comes from a labatory rather than Mr. Maggot’s tackle shop!; but surely you have to draw a line (no pun intended) at using a poxy bait boat? It’s fucking blatant cheating if you ask me!?! Kind reminded me of the little remote controlled bomb car that you can get in the Call of Duty Black Op’s game?! O-ffensive with a capital ‘O’.
BAIT BOAT FOR CHEATS!
Still, we’ll see who is victorious tomorrow, my money is on Bri! Purely because he is wearing the furry hat of destiny! I’m sure you’ll agree that my brother is one of England’s great eccentrics!? Just look at all the cans of Stella he takes with him!?! Food? Pah! That’s for people who come 2nd!!? Right Bri?
Saints Row 3 is an absolute corker of a game and exceptionally good fun to play; especially with someone who appreciates the vast amount of crazy humour within the game. Cue Mr Takis A.K.A. ‘Ghostly Yakuza’.
I was lucky enough to win the Saints Row 3 game in an Amazon.com Black Friday deal this week, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have been able to afford it until the price came down a bit! I got my game yesterday, and spent a good hour on it last night driving around the carefully created world so lovingly created by the developers.
You can tell that Saints Row 3 was a labour of love for the people who designed it, it runs so much more fluidly than Grand Theft Auto 4 (which gives me motion sickness) and is a pleasure to just ride around in their fantastic city playworld; stealing cars and shooting random people within the neighbourhood from out the window of a moving vehicle.
The campaign throws you in at the deep end with a really funny parody of the ‘Dead Presidents’ bank heist in one of my favourite films; ‘Point Break’. The oversized mask/heads really made me laugh and that eventually lead to the design of my own character.
Angelo’s Dad is an absolute legend, so I decided to base my character on him, hopefully I did him justice, although I had to settle for a ‘zombie’ voice rather than the heavy Greek tones; the voice somehow fit with the tinted shade glasses and 5 O’clock shadow and we were on our way.
Angelo decided to play with one of his bitches, and promptly played with his character naked (humorously censored I might add!) throughout the game.
NOTHING can quite prepare you for the ‘Whores’ (Hoard) Mode’ which saw me beating hookers up with a giant floppy lightsaber style implement which was actually a massive pink dildo whilst dressed in a dog outfit!
The whole game is just very polished and is fucking nuts, and I can see many an hour being spent doing quests and just sodding about.
Hopefully the videos below convey the enjoyment of the game.
VIDEO 1 – Antikrish and Ghostly Yakuza ride again!
VIDEO 2 – Antikrish and Ghostly Yakuza versus the system!
GALLERY
Warhammer 40k was as much a part of my childhood as A-Team and Knightrider was; I got into Games workshop games way back in 1989 playing Blood Bowl with some friends in the library after school.
Blood Bowl eventually led to Warhammer 40k which quickly became my game of choice and I spent many hours painting figures, reading the magazine ‘White Dwarf’ (not a specialist porn mag!) and shaving down pieces of foam to make scenery for the board game battles that often ensued between various friends and I. However, nobody could hold a candle to Angelo and his love of all things Games Workshop.
Angelo and I were always to be found in Games Workshop on a Thursday night during the early Nineties; Angelo’s Dad used to get dropped off in Croydon on a Thursday night (My Dad never gave me a lift anywhere!) to have a mooch around the shop and take the piss out of all the socially backward people in there; probably without realising the irony that |WE were every bit as socially backward as they were with our own love of turn based gaming and all the other crazy shit that we did during our school years. Manga, learning every word to outrageous films such as Robocop and the Running Man, as kids do!
Angelo’s bag was probably the ‘Epic’ version of Warhammer with the battles on a much more….epic…..scale involving tanks, support airships and the legendary Titan hulks with their unbeatable harpoon missle arsenals that Angelo would often make his own rules up about. Napoleon Takis! Just kidding Ang, just kidding!
I loved Epic too, but Warhammer 40K (40000 as they like to call it these days!) was a much more personal and focused game because you had to control an army of individual marines and support vehicles to overwhelm your opponent rather than. I honestly (and I mean honestly!) never lost a game down at the shop which I was very proud of that fact.
Just as I was proud to have a squad of Dark Angel Space Marines. Everyone picked their Space Marine ‘Chapter’ of choice back then; most people picked Space Wolves or Blood Angels because they were the cool chapters with ‘champion’ figurines like Logar Grimnar. Dark Angels were the pariahs of the Space Marine universe and part of me identified with that!
Angelo loved the Ultramarines, indiciative of the fact that he’d been into the whole thing since day one; luckily for him, the games developers chose to keep their focus on the Ultramines (as the film developers did in the animated Space Marine Film) because Games Workshop have been very odd in how they’ve kept the franchise going. There isn’t even an ‘epic’ anymore, much to Angelo’s disgust!
Anyway, enough with nostalgia, I have often said it that Xbox Live is stagnant with people overdosing on Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3; so it was great to rip off the selophant wrapping on the 40k game and try out the team deathmatch mode and the ‘Exterminatus’ survival mode too.
The game is very well designed and the team deathmatch mode provided a solid representation of what I knew to be the 40K universe, so much so that part of me felt 11 years old again. You can eventually chose from ‘Tactical’ ‘Devastator’ and ‘Assault’ classes which have their own strengths and weaknesses when facing off against other players; most of whom seemed to be of a ridiculously high rank and took full advantage of running around with Plasma Cannons whilst I had to get up close with the chainsword because my bolter was so inneffective. Incentive to rank up!
The Maps are fantastic, the perk system is well done and the style of gaming suits the genre; but I can’t help but feel that the game is very under-valued and anonymous behind the unfairly hyped first person shooter games that have stollen all the glory; whether this means that this is the last 40K game we’ll see for a while remains to be seen!
The Exterminatus game mode was good fun, Angelo and I faced off against hordes of Orks before he eventually died several times. Can’t hide behind your tape measure and made up rules now can you old boy!? hahaha! All joking aside, this is a fantastic game, go and buy it!
Brother Antikrish.
‘Knock down ginger’ is the age old practice of knocking on someone’s front door and running away in a mischievous fashion; something I still enjoy playing to this day when the mood strikes me.
In this increasingly technological age, the practice can also include the ringing of doorbells or flat-entry intercom systems; personally, I still prefer knocking on the door with my knuckles because it makes you sound like a baliff or the old bill! “Open up you naughty slags, it’s the fuzz!”.
‘Knock down ginger’ has absolutely nothing to do with beating up ginger people, nor does it have anything to do with the Weasley family in Harry Potter. ‘Knock, Knock, Ginger’ or ‘Knocky Door Ginger’ were the original names for the game which dates back to the 19th century in England; possibly might even be a Cornish traditional holiday of Nickanan Night according to the intersnot.
Google was a helpful whore as always and gave up her goodies about the origins of the prank on the first date, apparently, the saying ‘Knock down ginger’ comes from an English rhyme:
Ginger, Ginger broke a winder
Hit the winda – Crack!
The baker came out to give ‘im a clout.
And landed on his back
So as you see, I have nothing against Ginger’s whatsoever!
I felt it was appropriate to give ‘The Innovative Homeless Man Who Lives In A Shelter Opposite My Office’ a name; I’d like to go on record and confirm that I mean no disrespect, it’s just easier if I’m going to write a regular thread on this chap and his daily life. If I see him out and about, I’ll ask him what his real name is!
Several people in my office are equally fascinated with our human goldfish; so I suggested that we put names in a hat and choose the name randomly by drawing one out. That particular idea was met with the usual token left-wing resistance by over-sensitive types who conveyed their opinion that what I was doing was distasteful. Yawn.
Some of the verbal suggestions that were aired by the Daily Mail readers were certainly inappropriate; the familiar chorus of ‘Suicide Bomber’ ensued before I walked off and asked Ray for him to provide the name. Good old Ray, always reliable.
Therefore, I am delighted to announce that ‘The Innovative Homeless Man Who Lives In A Shelter Opposite My Office’ will henceforth be known as Sid. I asked Ray why he chose this particular name, Ray simply replied “Dunno, like Sid Snot from Kenny Everett, sounds good don’t it?”. So that’s good enough for me.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you; Sid – narrated by Ray.
Oh dear. Christmas adverts have started filtering onto our screens, is it mid November already? Where does the year go? Eh? Eh?
I hate Christmas adverts and how incredibly fucking smug they are! ‘Tum te tum te tum tum tum’ ( jingly music) fake snow, people all smiling and BHAM! “Walking along, singing a song, walking in a wint…………BUY A SOFA YOU MINDLESS FUCKER!!! IT’S 50% OFF!”. That’d be MUCH more honest?
Take the new Boots Advert. Hearing the music kick in……..’Do de de do, do dee dee do, diddidyd doo doo deedy dee do!’……..then “Here come the girls!” opening chorus makes me want to projectile vomit. I don’t know what I hate more about the adverts; the fact that they’re over a month early and remind me of working in Boots over Christmas back in the day; or the way in which the adverts are trying to suggest that all women in England are sophisticated white middle class empowered ball busters who wouldn’t look out of place in the film ‘Notting Hill’.
Kev’s idea for a Boots Christmas Advert = ‘Do de de do, do dee dee do, diddidyd doo doo deedy dee do!’…….then…….”here come the girls!” and the camera then pans to a road in Croydon with several rotund pissed middle aged women being sick in the gutter outside Tiger Tiger. Yes, that’d be far more appropriate. Here come the girls indeed…….
Then there’s the new Littlewoods advert. Words almost fail me. The scene is set, it’s a kids Christmas musical play and a bunch of carefully selected HR tick sheet poster children work their way through a ‘hip’ medley of songs designed to make the impoverished order catalogue goods and spend money they don’t have on their spoilt little bastard children.
If that’s not bad enough, there’s an exceptionally offensive rap that’s probably been written by the whitest person ever (someone like David Cameron) and they get a cute little black kid to say “My muvva’s wicked!” like it’s the 1980’s. Then they cap it all off by having a little white girl with glasses end the song by saying “……..my lovely lovely muvva” before she disappears behind the stage curtain. This didn’t evoke me into buying said goods from Littlewoods; I thought “She’ll be working in McDonalds in 10 years time, the little under-achiever”.
The worst thing about the Littlewoods advert is that I can imagine lots of very bored mothers sitting around thinking that it’s the best advert in the world. “Ah, look at all the kids, innit luuuuuuuuuuvly!?”. But then I suppose that is the point of Christmas isn’t it?
The Antikrish 
You must be logged in to post a comment.