Redfern Jon Barrett's Blog, page 9

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT LOVE

This week I have been defacing “Love is” comics instead of having functional human relationships.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Join me next week for my photo series: STALKING THE POSTMAN

- Boatthreesomefern

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STRAIGHT RED FIXES RUSSIA

Hello fans of maintaining erections whilst having sex with women – and never accidentally getting them when hugging men – it is I, Straight Red, the heterosexualistiest man on Earth.

Now, I can’t understand why anyone would rather touch disgusting men’s disgusting erect penises, hairy chests, and strong, firm thighs when they could be making sex with ladies, but apparently some men do. Now, I’ve nothing against gays, but I do wish there were less of them on the TV, filling my mind with filthy thoughts of licking another man’s tongue and feeling his hot breath on my face. Ugh! So when I heard that Russia was banning them from corrupting our screens, I was pleased – now nothing would distract me from the sexy round breasts I so absolutely crave!

But then, like always, Russia took things too far. Now, I realise why they want to censor those dirty, sweaty men with their flirty eyes and soft lips, but then I discovered they want to ban lesbians too! Lovely innocent lesbians! So whilst buying the latest copy of Men’s Health it came to me: as a man’s man, perhaps I can talk them round. Perhaps good old Straight Red can sort Russia out!

(I can spend hours and hours browsing those sexiest things in health)

So before you could say ‘I don’t mind what people do in their own homes as long as they don’t shove it in my face’, I was on a plane to Russia. My mission began!

Day One

Now, at first I wasn’t sure, but I suspected that the flight attendant have been a gay – after all, what red-blooded labia-loving male would push a trolley? I won’t even push one of them at the supermarket, I simply prove my manliness by piling everything up in my arms until I can’t see where I’m going. Which also functions as a workout. Still, the trolley-cissy was surely an omen of my mission’s success! “I’m doing this for you,” I told him. He might look confused now, I told myself, but he won’t when I’m on the cover of his homosexualist magazines!

Finally the plane landed in Putinland. Now, less budget-conscious travellers might stay on some fancy-dancy hotel – but not good old Straight Red! I simply used social networking to find somewhere to stay, by the look of it some sort of body-building website.

I was to be staying with a lovely fellow called Alexei and his good friend Vladim. Exhausted from my journey, I spent the night on their sofabed. Still, I couldn’t sleep, thinking of that flight attendant and his cause. Being such a friend to the gays, I can never be called ‘psychotic closeted homophobe’ ever again! Take that, dad!

Day Two

I woke up nice and early, beginning my day on an environmentalist bent, by sharing a shower with Alexei and Vladim. We only have one mother earth!

Now, there have been a lot of talk calling Russia a police state – so what to check out first, but the police and the soldiers? So off I went to the Kremlin. I tried speaking to the guards there, but they spoke to me in some sort of weird alien language, so I just smiled at them and admired their manly posture. We lazy Western Europeans could learn something from their discipline!

Such co-ordination! Such poise! Such totalitarian-state-rigour!

After a long day of watching vigorous militaristic displays, I thought it would be best to blow off steam by finding a lady to have sex with. Needless to say, I was on top expert-thrusting-totally-not-breaking-down-and-sobbing form! By the time I got back to the apartment my hosts were already in bed – as I couldn’t work out how the sofabed worked, I simply got in between them, making sure to build a pillow-wall between myself and them – you never know who might be a homo in disguise!

Day Three

It is abolutely not gay to spend the day masturbating in front of two other men. Sometimes we just need to compare technique.

Day Four

I clearly wasn’t getting very far on my quest, so I decided I would finally put myself in the sequined shoes of a homosexual, and start my very own gay pride parade. Now, I couldn’t find any fairy fellows around, so a one-man-parade it had to be.

Like this, but just me, and more feathers

As soon as I lifted my ‘GAY SEX IS PROBABLY OK SEX’ banner, I was set upon by three dozen paratroopers, who wrestled me to the ground, wrapping their muscled arms around me before bundling me into a police van. I tried screaming that I was in fact the straightest man in the civilised world, but to no avail.

I found myself in an overcrowded cell, where I and the other inmates were reduced to the level of animals. Sweaty, sweaty animals. It was there that I realised perhaps Russia was beyond even my help, and that one man cannot halt the emergence of a brutal fascist state.

(Though perhaps one man can create one)

Most importantly though, I learned something: gay people are probably people too, and maybe they deserve to be left alone.

(Just so long as they don’t rub their glistening abdominal muscles in my face whilst pressing their thighs against my naked body. That’s just going an awful, awful step too far.)

- Straight Red

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WHICH TYPE OF CHRISTMAS ARE YOU? THE HOLIDAY PERSONALITY TEST

This year I’ve taken some time out from mailing divorce papers to newlywed couples to answer a question which has plagued our frightening species since the day it was formed by malevolent aliens: if I were a type of Christmas, which Christmas would I be? After much drinking, writing, and festive vision-having, I have finally come up with an answer. With that, I give you…

 

THE WHICH TYPE OF CHRISTMAS ARE YOU TEST

1. Which of the following best describes your perfect winter evening?

A) Sitting indoors with a good glass of mulled Merlot, snow falling outside the window, the log fire roasting those letters from your illegitimate child into blissful cinders.

B) I’m dreaming of a WHITE Christmas! Time to stick homophobic posters around a poor London borough and blame it on racial minorities!

C) Keeping warm with your closest friends under a big Christmas blanket!

D) One where my relatives don’t pretend they don’t know who I am when I turn up on their doorstep asking for money.

 

2. What would be the perfect gift for someone you love?

A) A lovely silk tie from Selfridge’s that you forced one of your employees to pick out in flagrant violation of labour laws and basic human ethics

B) A burning Mosque

C) What better gift to give than yourself? And your lovely penis/vagina/boobs/feet?

D) Your quiet disappearance so the debt collectors / burned drug dealers stop kicking in the door to your home

 

3. Christmas/Stolen Saturnalia is all about charity. Which charity will you be donating to this holiday season?

A) The Society for the Preservation and Utilisation of Angora Rabbits / The Cashmere Goat Protection League

B) Let’s Kick Football Out Of Homosexuals

C) The Johns Hopkins Institute for Research into Intimately-Transmitted Infections

D) The Association for Getting As Many A-Listed Drugs Into Your Veins as Possible Before the Social Worker Comes to Visit

 

4. What is your favourite race?

A) I don’t see race, I see people only for the beautiful human beings they are, and then judge them based on their taste in imported coffee

B) White

C) Whichever is on top of me right now

D) Those guys from the Lord of the Rings films with the cloaks and hats who can do magic spells

 

5. It’s Christmas, but the religious minorities in your street won’t put garish decorations in their garden.

A) Well, diversity is important, so let’s tolerate difference. It’s not like I’ll ever be talking to them anyway

B) All the religious minorities in my street were disposed of at the local Church’s last ‘Easter Ceremony’

C) I hadn’t noticed, I only go outside when I run out of lubricants

D) I’m pretty sure I count as a decoration. I’m wearing a Santa hat and have sprayed multi-coloured bodily fluids over their exterior walls

 

6. For Christmas dinner I’ll be having…

A) Peruvian roasted songbirds stuffed with foie gras, chestnuts imported from Antarctic hothouses, and gravy made from the tears of evicted pauper families

B) A congealed pastel-yellow chicken curry from the one white-run curryhouse in town

C) Whatever is put into my filthy mouth

D) My own vomit, choked up my nostrils

 

7. The most commonly used phrase in your household this Christmas is:

A) “I’m not going to argue about this in front of the children, just smile and carve the fucking turkey.”

B) “I’m all for equality, but…”

C) Mnnnneaaaaaurrrrggggghh *gargle* mmmmmmhmmmmnnnnnn

D) Ruuuuurrrggggggghhhhh-huurrrrr *gargle* nuuuuuuuuuuuurggghhh

 

That’s it!

If you answered mostly ‘A’s, then congratulations! You are a

MIDDLE-CLASS CHRISTMAS

Everything looks like it came from a Marks and Spencer’s magazine, and the music playing is by an authentic Eastern Orthodox Siberian Choir. The food is sumptuous, plus the air smells of Saudi cinnamon and roasted banknotes. At night you scream your hardest into your alpaca wool-stuffed pillow, and you claw at your own face as you sleep, but as long as everything looks perfect and that the tree alone cost the value of six unmet mortgage repayments, what can go wrong?

 

If you answered mostly ‘B’s, then congratulations! You are a

NAZI CHRISTMAS

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Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, has a very shiny nose,

And if you ever say it, you would ever say it glows!

All of the other reindeer, used to laugh and pour petrol through his letterbox,

You red-nosed freaks better get the fuck out of our proud neighbourhood.

 

If you answered mostly ‘C’s, then congratulations! You are a

SEXY CHRISTMAS

What could be a better way of celebrating the birth of the most famous poverty baby in the world than plunging into a giant writhing mass of arms, legs, and swollen genitals? To really get into the holiday season, try using spiced butter instead of lubricant, wrapping paper instead of dental dams, and gravy in place of baby oil! Groans and ecstatic moans are your Christmas carols, and and three kings are about to fill every gaping part of you. Hallelujah!

 

If you answered mostly ‘D’s, then congratulations! You are a

DEPRESSING DRUG ADDICTION CHRISTMAS

Putting an Irvine Welsh novel to shame, the floor under your tree is covered with the wrong kind of needles. And instead of a tree you have an umbrella you stole off someone in a car park. And instead of a house you have the urine-sodden underneath of a railway bridge.

Yet, in spite of your glazed eyes, pale skin, and weeks-long-soiled underwear, you are the only one to see the baby Jesus – his shimmering, multi-coloured face winking at you from that deathly-still stranger’s body which is slumped by those trash cans.

“Soon,” it whispers. “Soon.”

Merry Secularmas!

- Festivefern

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9 INDIE PRESENTS TO MAKE YOURS

Like most people, I enjoy spending my moneys propping up huge media empires and planet-burning megacorporations. Hell, I just want a Blade Runner-esque sci-fi dystopia to become reality, because then I get to wear a cool trenchcoat and walk through streets coated in neon lights without having to move to Japan. I won’t buy toys unless they’re smeared with the blood of slave children, I won’t read a book unless the author lives in a mansion made entirely of diamonds and platinum, and I won’t buy music unless the record label has thrown at least a country’s worth of people into debtor’s prison.

This year though, I found a bottle of unmarked pharmaceuticals hidden in the cistern of a public toilet (always gotta check the cisterns, it’s where the best prizes are found), and now I see things clearly. This Christmashannukahyulekwanzafestivalofblood I’m taking a break from my nihilistic sweatship purchases to support indies: indie craftsmen, artists, writers, and musicians. These people live in exciting Dickensian poverty, and every sale means one more day of precious sustenance. Plus, the stuff they make is really fucking cool.

BUY THINGS BUY EVERYTHING

*ART THINGS*

AMAZING TEXTILE PUPPETS by SHINY CHRIS HUBLEY

I’m a big fan of puppets – partly because I spent my childhood being raised by Jim Henson, and partly because you can really freak people out when their loved ones go missing and are replaced by puppet replicas. And these are the best fucking puppets I’ve seen for sale.  Buy the pink one and replace your friend’s baby with it.

https://www.facebook.com/chrishubleyartist?fref=ts

 

ILLUSTRATIONS from CAROLINE DUFFY

Everyone hates greetings cards shops – they have all the negatives of high street stores (full of people, full of germs, risk of terrorist attack) combined with all the negatives of greetings cards (full of bad poems, full of germs, risk of terrorist attack). Why not have an illustration made for someone you mildly like? It’ll be the only one in the whole wide world. What about a picture of them as a dinosaur? Or on a rocket ship? Or of their future abandoned love child? The possibilities are endless!

http://www.carolineduffy.co.uk/

 

ILLUSTRATIONS from HEATHER PURCELL

I’ve included two illustrators here because I want to pit them against one another and have them fight to the death. Berlin-based Heather Purcell makes awesome comic-style illustrations, and she’s just waiting for you to contact her and scream your desires. Instead of using apocalypse-hastening Bitstrips, you could have an actual comic made of your life. Or your partner’s life. Or the end of your partner’s life.

http://scottishmangos.com/

*BOOKS*

SCI-FI/FANTASY from DARVIN MARTIN

No-one can ever have enough science fiction, and no-one can have have enough ebooks. Even if you’re storing your books on 45 different e-readers, hoarding your digital collection like the last desperate virtual librarian on earth, you’re still not trying hard enough. Plus, Martin’s stuff features polyamory, and we definitely need a whole hand-holding boatload more of that.

http://theloverswar.blogspot.de/

 

SCI-FI from ME ME ME ME ME

I first came across ME when I was an infant, and had just learned to recognise my own beautiful reflection. Since then ME has been creating excellent work, work you should most definitely buy, in both both ebook and print format. ME is going to go on to do great things, if not literary things then in the stealing-a-schoolbus-and-driving-it-into-a-kitten-orphanage things. Think of the kittens. Think of ME.

(You’re already on my site, there’s a link to my book above)

 

*MUSIC*

FOLK by MARC BLOCK

I’m not the first authority on music (remember, I am the first authority on literature, politics, and the private details of your life), but Mark Block’s songs are at times haunting and strangely uplifting. Plus, Block has such an incredible voice that I DARE YOU to try not touching yourself whilst listening to him. Great for family occasions.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marc-Block-Music/116624875071723?fref=ts

 

FOLK from SERA RABBETT

For a tiny land Margaret Thatcher once napalmed and then tried to deny ever existed, Wales has had a massive impact on our fragile planet’s music scene. Sera and the Elements continue this tradition, with powerful folk music that will surely someday help establish the ‘Land of Song’ as a tyrannical global superpower.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/sera-the-elements/59986884525?ref=profile

 

GENRE-BENDING STUFF from RYAN JAMES

Another product of Wales’ attempts to brainwash our world through music, Ryan James is one of my favourite musicians. Let his deep gravelly voice sooth you as daffodil-coated soldiers murder your nation’s leaders and establish the Flag of the Dragon in the ruins of your capitol.

http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/ryanjamesmusic

 

*DONATIONS FOR GOOD CAUSES*

INDIAN DOG RESCUE from WASPY WOO

Studies show that if you don’t love dogs you’re a murderous paedophile, and if you don’t want to help dogs in one of the planet’s largest third world countries then you’re also a massive racist. A long-time animal welfare campaigner, Waspy Woo wants to help save our canine buddies, and your donation will make a huge difference to this cause. Plus, it almost certainly isn’t a front for Peruvian drug cartels, like most ‘charities’ you’ll see advertised this time of year.

http://www.gofundme.com/indiandogrescue

Well that’s it for this HOLIDAY SEASON (ahaha, take that easily-enraged right-wingers, I didn’t mention the Jesus celebration aside from right now explaining how I didn’t mention him and look, I didn’t capitalise the ‘h’ in Him! Madness! Secularist madness!) But join us next year for our ‘SURVIVORS OF THE APOCALYPSE HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE’, where we’ll be pointing out which blood-stained rocks make the perfect gift, and which sticks are best to gnaw on as you hallucinate precious food. Till then, frantic consumers!

- Indiefern

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HOUSESPOUSE CORNER: DIY TIPS / SEDUCING THE NEIGHBOUR BOY

Greetings fellow housepouses, and welcome back to Housespouse Corner – for those of us who have dedicated our lives to the sublime mediocrity of housework, sacrificing careers and friendships to a spouse who cares more about draining the liquor cabinet than whether you live or die. Now, though those lovely curtain decorations we made last week may have passed by entirely unnoticed, but this week we’re doing something really special: putting up shelves! Marriage-saving shelves!

Everyone loves a good shelf. Whether you’re using it to store those books you pretend to read in order to impress delivery people, to house dishonest wedding photographs which stare down at you with hopeless joy, or simply to leave empty as a reminder of broken dreams and the futility of life, shelves are pretty damn useful. But how to go about putting them up when you don’t have the proper tools? You know, I bet that new family that just moved in next door has some…

DIY TIPS / SEDUCING THE NEIGHBOUR BOY

STEP ONE: Put on a different cardigan – the one you’re wearing is covered in soupstains and tears. A fresh cardigan for a fresh new day! Choose the one with the purple flowers – you’re feeling festive!

STEP TWO: Your partner appears to have been using your purple-flower cardigan as a handkerchief. Just cut some armholes into a pillow case and get on with your day.

STEP THREE: Get all your laughing/sobbing done before you leave the house. We don’t want a repeat of last month’s Children’s Day visit to the mall.

STEP FOUR: Spend half an hour standing in the neighbour’s garden and watching the windows – no point ringing the bell if there’s no-one home!

STEP FIVE: That looks like their 20 year-old son changing in one of the upstairs windows, but you could be wrong. Best spend another 15 minutes in the garden to be sure.

STEP SIX: Shit, the postman is coming. Hide in one of the bushes.

STEP SEVEN: The postman’s legs are getting awfully close to your hiding place. Best poke at them with a stick.

STEP EIGHT: That’s it – he’s retreating. Now throw a rock at him to make sure.

STEP NINE: That did it! A little too well, in fact. The postman is lying in road in front of the garden, a small but very dark pool of blood seeping from the back of his head onto the uncaring tarmac. That’ll teach him to disrupt your errands.

STEP TEN: Ring the neighbour’s doorbell. Blush when the youthful two-decade old neighbour boy answers with his broad shoulders and innocent eyes. Explain about the shelves.

STEP ELEVEN: No, I don’t want to talk to your parents – this task needs the strength of youth. Repeat the word ‘youth’ a few times, the last few at a whisper. Stroke his big strong arm.

STEP TWELVE: Success! The neighbour boy will be over in a minute with his father’s drill. You’re going to need some wood for the shelves. Break the doors off the kitchen cabinets.

STEP THIRTEEN: The doorbell! Here’s here already! But look at yourself! You’re not ready for company! Best put some make-up on. Scream ‘WAIT’ through the front door as you slather rouge over your cheeks and forehead.

STEP FOURTEEN: Your hair! It could definitely do with a tidy-up! Use the nail scissors you found under the sink.

STEP FIFTEEN: The neighbour boy looks like he’s leaving! Open the front door, scream ‘WAIT FOR ONE GOD-DAMNED SECOND YOU SEXY LITTLE SHIT’. Close the door.

STEP SIXTEEN: Put on your brightest lipstick. A sunny smile for a sunny day!

STEP SEVENTEEN: YOU KILLED THE POSTMAN

STEP EIGHTEEN: Suppress inconvenient memories with a nice vodka-codeine cocktail. Drink three.

STEP NINETEEN: It’s time! Open the front door. Oh, what a pleasant surprise! Kiss his hand. Kiss both his hands.

STEP TWENTY: Lighten the mood by telling him a funny anecdote, such as that time you had a massive fight at your wedding and spent your wedding night sleeping on a park bench!

STEP TWENTY-ONE: Take his hand in yours – hold on tight so he can’t pull away – then lead him upstairs. The shelves are going in the bedroom!

STEP TWENTY-TWO: Lock the bedroom door whilst his back is turned.

STEP TWENTY-THREE: Watch the powerful tendons in hs hands as he drills into the wall. Do a dance for him.

STEP TWENTY-FOUR: But there’s no music to dance to! Loudly hum ‘happy birthday’ whilst swinging your hips.

STEP TWENTY-FIVE: Yes, that got his attention! You sure look good in your pillowcase outfit! Now pull him towards you and start humming the theme from Titanic. It’s time for a slow dance!

STEP TWENTY-SIX: Yes, yes, I know the door is locked. The key? But we’re having such a lovely time! And this is such a lovely drill. Heavier than it looks.

STEP TWENTY-SEVEN: Call for help all you want, no-one will hear. You know youth is wasted on the young. And what did I waste mine on? A twenty year marriage to an alcoholic who spent our retirement savings on lottery tickets and Hello Kitty collectibles. Stop shouting, if I hadn’t had those cocktails you’d be giving me a headache. Here, I made one for you. Oh, you don’t want it? No, I bet you have some little girlfriend somewhere, someone you can trick into marrying with promises you’ll be too drunk to keep, all so you can repress your gay feelings with a gold band and some cheap vows! You hear me, neighbour boy? Why not take her on a romantic second honeymoon to rekindle that ‘spark’, only to crash the car into a amusement park and wind up in the local newspapers? Why not ruin someone else’s life just to slightly compensate your own ego? WHY NOT MARRY HER NEIGHBOUR BOY? MARRY HER AND WONDER WHERE THE DECADES GO, WONDER HOW DESIRES YOU NEVER EVEN KNEW YOU HAD CAN BE MURDERED SO PASSIVELY, HOW YOUR VERY CORE CAN BE SLAIN SO SLOWLY. WHY NOT? WHY NOT, NEIGHBOUR BOY? ANSWER ME

STEP TWENTY-EIGHT: Oh my, what a mess. Were you still holding the drill whilst doing all that wild gesturing? It’s a good job you know just how to get blood and brain tissue out of shag carpeting – twenty years of housework can sure teach you a thing or two!

Join us next week when we learn how to bake the perfect cake whilst avoiding awkward questions from aggressive police officers. Till next time happy housespouses!

- Practicalfern

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THE ALL-NEW BERLIN SUBWAY MAP

This is what would happen if I was allowed to name things like stations.

(Click to enlarge)

- Subwayfern

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THE REVOLUTION OF REDFERN’S BEDROOM

Like most people my age, I’m selfishly dissatisfied with our benevolent government of parasitic banker-aristocrats, and feel youthful ingratitude for their kind gifts of poverty, police brutality, and creeping fascism. Russell Brand may advocate global revolution, but that sounds hard. Instead, I’m going to solve my problems locally. And by locally, I mean my bedroom, where the brave peasantry (me) have united to overthrow the state, and establish utopia. With that I bring you:

THE REVOLUTION OF REDFERN’S BEDROOM

DAY ONE

Our Warlord President has emerged victorious! Our declaration of independence has gone unchallenged by the state of Berlin, the Republic of Germany, and the European Union! Our glorious leader donned the official garb of the new state, and conducted his initiation ceremony in front of decadent housemates, the vassal leaders of Heather’s bedroom, Darren’s bedroom, and the Bedroom of Matthew. Their rulers, still under the yoke of capitalist EU tyranny, could only look on in jealous amazement.

 

DAY 2

“OCCUPY, OCCUPY, OCCUPY!” the people chant. I inform them that we have already successfully occupied the bedroom and eradicated all hierarchy forever, and that as their Non-Hierarchical Absolute Dictator I shall ensure total democracy.

But today our glorious Republic meets its first challenge! The powerless and corrupt President of Darren’s bedroom ordered our glorious leader to capitulate to the brutal old schemes of organised labour, arrogantly demanding that our benevolent leader “could possibly do your chore today? Only it’s a week late. Also, can you stop shrieking ‘occupy’ at us? I’m getting a fucking headache.”

In response our brave President burned the ‘chore rota’ in front of the astonished neighbouring leaders, before returning to the glorious democratic republic of Redfern’s Bedroom.

SEE YOU IN HELL, CHORE ROTA!

DAY 3

Today the intelligence services of our Glorious Democratic Emperor discovered a shocking scandal: one of the neighbouring leaders (the name of whom our benevolent leader has kindly censored) has been engaging in sexual congress with a ruler from outside the region of The Apartment! In spite of the backwards and immoral nature of the neighbouring Bedrooms, King Redfern saw fit to end such depravity in order to preserve the integrity of The Apartment, using a bucket of cold bleach water.

Our morals are saved! Thank you, oh Omnipresent One!

DAY 4

DISASTER! SUCH BLIND FOOLISHNESS! THE NEIGHBOURING LEADERS ARE PLANNING AN ATTACK!

Our Glorious Kaiser has been shown the following photograph by the intelligence services, clearly showing a foreign plot to overthrow our republic and reinstate the old order!

 

Do not worry, free citizens! WE SHALL GET THEM FIRST.

DAY 5

The plot has been vanquished! The despotic ruler of the Bedroom of Heather entered our borders, under the blatant lie that she ‘really needed [her] toothbrush back’. But our military was prepared, and the fascist empress was vanquished forever!

The republic is saved!

DAY 6

Treachery! The leaders of Darren’s Bedroom and the Bedroom of Matthew arrived at the border today, demanding to know where the deceased Empress is, why there is a sign on her door claiming that the former Bedroom of Heather is now a part of the Empire of Redfern’s Room, and why there appear to a bunch of frightened, encaged strangers deep within the border of our bountiful republic!

Such arrogance! Our leader doesn’t have to explain anything, least of all our benevolent territorial expansion and forced labour programmes!

QUESTIONS ARE THE ENEMY OF UTOPIA.

DAY 7

THE BARBARIAN STATES HAVE CALLED UPON THE DESPOTIC FORCES OF THE EUROPEAN UNION, AND THE AGENTS OF OPPRESSION THEY CALL ‘THE POLICE’.

DO NOT FEAR CITIZENS, FOR OUR BRAVE WARRIOR KING IS READY FOR THEM. THE REPUBLIC SHALL FIGHT, OR DIE WITH HIM.

FOR EQUALITY! FOR ORDER! FOR THE ETERNAL DESTRUCTION OF THE CHORE ROTA!

- Benevolentfern

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LIVE PERFORMANCE IN BERLIN THIS HALLOWEEN

Great news fans of consensual genital mutilation! The artist Heather Purcell and I are currently working on our short story ‘Penis Bifurcation Society’, which will form a mixed-media performance featuring live-drawing!

The Penis Bifurcation Society have gathered for their annual meeting, but soon find themselves stalked by a madman, mutilating them one by one by gluing their penises back together…

The performance will take place at Wasted Land (Emserstr. 34, Neukölln) 9PM OCTOBER 31. If you’re in Berlin come see us! Make obscene gestures at us, we love it!

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12 ROMANTIC PROPOSALS FOR THE SOCIALLY UNHINGED

Nary a day goes by without my Facebook feed spurting out some elongated Youtube proposal, with a happy white couple dragging all their family and friends in for a song-and-dance routine, leading up to a small box containing one of the shiny underground rocks presented as tribute. People have blackmailed their way into wedded bliss in all sorts of highly-public, inventive ways, but in my opinion none of them truly say, ‘I want you buried next to me when our heating system breaks down and we die of carbon monoxide poisoning in our beds, discovered only three months later when one of the neighbours notices that our house has become nothing but a solid black mass of flies.’

With that, here are twelve ways in which I would propose, if I didn’t prefer the more modern system of trapping potential spouses in a large net and keeping them in an underground hive where they sew clothing I can sell at flea markets. Romance!

12 ROMANTIC PROPOSALS FOR THE SOCIALLY UNHINGED

1. THE HOSTAGE TAKING

Like all those lovely youtube videos, this one involves family and friends! Simply don a mask, kidnap your lover’s favourite sibling/friend/parents, and hold them at gunpoint until the police come. Tell them you will only negotiate with your potential fiancé.

“Oh gods Rebecca, just say yes, don’t let him kill me, say yes, damnit!”

It would take a heart of steel to say no to that one. (NOTE: shooting the hostage before an answer is given may affect the outcome)

2.  A ROMANTIC FIRE

The genius of this one is in its simplicity.

“Oh  gods Brian, it looks like your apartment is on fire! You’ll need somewhere to live, do you want to live with me and be married? It’s a good job your cats were in the burning apartment as I’m allergic to them and I don’t want them in my home.”

3. TREASURE HUNT

All the nostalgic glory of your childhood, combined with the very adult pressure to be joined in holy matrimony! Each clue will bring them closer to the engagement ring – is it stored in the fridge? Nope, sorry Mark, try underneath what was once your prize rose garden! No? Could it be at the bottom of the urn which once stored your grandmother’s ashes but is now home to a proposal note and a shitload of confetti? Jackpot!

4. COMPETITIVE WEDDING

What’s more romantic than proposing at someone else’s wedding? NOTHING, that’s what! Pick a lull in the registrar’s speech, stand up, and begin your extremely loud proposal – for bonus points, try and do it at their sister’s wedding – all her family will be there to witness your happy day.

5. COURT SUMMONS SURPRISE

Step one: send your soon-to-be-fiancée a series of letters from the recording industry, letting them know that they’ve been caught downloading Lana Del Rey’s unbearable dronings and are due to appear in court. Make sure the letters are sufficiently threatening, you don’t want them to miss this!

Step two: don’t let their panicked tears sway you! This is romance!

Step three: Wait, this address isn’t a courtroom, it’s the driveway to a McDonalds! And who is that handsome person holding a faux-diamond ring? It’s a romance genius, that’s who!

6. A ROMANTIC HUNT

“Don’t be silly Magdaline, you’re not really a vegetarian. Now take this gun and start shooting those guinea pigs. One of them has a special surprise inside!”

7. TERRIBLE ACCIDENT

Picture the scene: your partner is driving to work on a normal, hum-drum day. But what’s that? Those cars look like they’ve had an accident! Why is there no-one around to help? I’ll see what I can do – oh god, oh god, they’re all dead, that poor family! Please, please won’t somebody help, there’s so much blood, it’s all over the – wait, I think the blood is spelling something! Oh my god! Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!

8. SPIDERS

Everyone loves spiders! Why not train 800 of them to spell out your proposal on their bedroom wall?

9. iTunes

This one takes a little effort, but it’ll be worth it to see the look of love on their face! Simply record yourself singing their favourite songs, but change all the lyrics to your romantic proposal. The love will build and build as they realise you’ve not only recorded one song, but you’ve erased their entire music collection and replaced it with your own voice!

Magical.

10. HAUNTING

This is one of the more expensive proposals. Simply purchase fifteen projectors and speaker systems, and hide them at strategic points around your lover’s home. Start small – a split-second of a woman’s face on the bathroom wall – and slowly work your way up. A child vanishing down an invisible hallway, an old man bursting into flames, the incessant whispering of their name through the night. Make the images gorier and gorier, make the whispered messages more cryptic and yet more personal. Make it clear the date is coming, the date when something big will happen. The old man in flames tells them it’s a week away. The blood-covered nurse whispers that it’s three more days. The woman without fingers says it’s tomorrow.

Your partner won’t have slept in weeks – they’ll have been kept up all night thinking about this day. The anticipation! The look on their face when your apparition appears on the ceiling, holding out a ring! The disbelief!

11. SERIOUS ILLNESS

Fake a series of hospital appointments, each one containing worse and worse news. Come home one day and announce you have a week to live, and that you don’t want the hospital – you want to die quietly at home. Spend the week crying together, fulfilling a list of all the things you ever wanted to do, having heartfelt goodbye sex. Experience a closeness which is only possible when one of you is about to be gone forever. Spend your final night holding each other – you’re going to die in their arms. Lie there together until the fateful morning comes.

SURPRISE! You’re not really dying! Now you can spend the rest of your lives together! Just say yes!

(Probably) works every time.

12. CHEATING SURPRISE

This is another one that takes a little time, but is absolutely worth the effort. Simply hire a handsome stranger to woo your partner – have them start with flirtatious glances at the local coffee shop, and have them move up to lingering eye contact, first conversation, sharing a decaf espresso and bran muffin together. Have him/her assuage your lover’s guilt, tell them they’ve never felt like this before, have them share a cheeky, guilty kiss. Then step it up: sending notes, text messages, long romantic emails. Make sure your partner grows attached.

Then comes the big night – your partner is finally going to cheat on you with the mysterious person they’ve fallen for. They climb into bed together, exchange the first tender kisses… until you jump out of the wardrobe! SURPRISE! Now marry me?

So now there’s nothing standing in the way of you and wedded bliss. Join me next week when I show you how to trick family and friends into a surprise bris! Till then, romance fans!

- Sayyesfern

 

 

 

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REDFERN’S AWESOME FUCKING GAY AGENDA

The term ‘gay agenda’ has a rich and colourful and stupid history. First used by right-wing homophobes to show how homosexuals wanted the ultimate downfall of society, it was then grabbed by equally head-traumaed people – this time gays such as the Human Rights Campaign – who use it to show how nice, normal, and well-behaved the good conservative homosexuals were.

See, we want monogamy, family, and poorly written cardboard signs, too! We’re just like you, white suburban heterosexuals! Every last one of us.

Ignore that. Those guys are straight.

So in the great spirit of announcing what the entirety of a sexual orientation encompassing millions of people all unanimously want, I proclaim the NEW GAY AGENDA, and this one doesn’t absolutely fucking suck.*

*WARNING: If you aren’t me, the agenda may absolutely fucking suck.

1. MONOGAMY BANNED

Yes, this is what we all want now. Hey, if the Human Rights Campaign can decide we all want monogamy, then I can decide that we all want the EXACT OPPOSITE. Each member of our society is to be assigned a Grindr/Gayromeo/OKCupid account, and will be required to log into it at least once every three hours. And I don’t want to hear any childish complaints such as “but I don’t want to have sex with thousands of strangers” or “the skin of my genitals is being rubbed away” – this is new utopia, with a darkroom in every restaurant, parking garage, and shopping mall.

That’s quite a catch you have there, Mr. President!

2. EVERY WORD TO RE-SPELLED TO INCLUDE ‘HAIL SATAN’

Toohailsatan manyhailsatan hailsatangay peoplehailsatan arehailsatan hailsatantrying hailsatanto makehailsatan ushailsatan lookhailsatan hailsatanas blandhailsatan andhailsatan hailsatanas innoffensivehailsatan hailsatanas possiblehailsatan. Fuckhailsatan thathailsatan.

Andhailsatan accordinghailsatan tohailsatan hailsatanGrindr, hailsatanhe onlyhailsatan liveshailsatan 100hailsatan metreshailsatan hailsatanaway!

3. EACH CHILD TO BE TRAINED IN BISEXUAL SADOMASOCHISM. ALSO TO HATE YOU.

Picture the scene. A loving mother has devotedly set the table, her upright husband has just arrived home fresh from a promotion at MakingTheWorldWorse, Inc. A big steak pie has been prepared – his favourite! – and oh look – little Timmy is back from his strange new government-mandated classes! Hi Timmy!

“Oh look, it’s my dumpy parents. How’s it going, you disgusting breeders?”

“But – but Timmy, if we weren’t bree- if we didn’t make love together and conceive, you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Some life it is here, living in this fucking boring shithole surrounded by people who haven’t had decent sex their entire lives.”

“Timmy, you’re six years old, how do you know what sex is-”

“[Interrupting] It’s a good job the government have loaned me all that money which would have gone to maternity wards, so I can finally open a decent fetish dungeon in this neighbourhood.”

“Stop that, you’re upsetting your mother – now what in blazes is a fetish dun-”

“[Interrupts by whipping his father across the face with a Government-Issue Grade 9 Kinkwhip]SHUT UP, BREEDER SCUM!”

There. Blissful family bonding.

4. FREE FLAPJACKS

BECAUSE FLAPJACKS ARE FUCKING AWESOME

5. EVERYONE IS BANNED FROM TRYING TO SUM UP THE WISHES OF EVERY SINGLE QUEER PERSON AS THOUGH WE HAVE SOME SORT OF HIVEMIND WITH THEIR OWN NARROW CONCEPTION OF WHAT THAT COMMUNITY (WHICH IS ACTUALLY FORMED OF THOUSANDS OF INTERLINKED COMMUNITIES, RANGING FROM BIBLE-LOVING CHRISTIANS TO EXTREME FETISH CLUBS) SIMPLY IN ORDER TO FURTHER WHAT IS ACTUALLY THEIR OWN AGENDA

Penalty: death by overconsuming rich, delicious flapjacks.

- Agendafern

 

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