Doppelganger
Well it would appear I have a doppelganger.
Imagine my surprise when I ventured forth this morning to find an angry mob of hairy bikers spreading petrol on the lawn and threatening the postman with menaces. After much debate it transpired they believed I had been bringing their good name into disrepute and posting wild and vicious lies on their internets bikeboard of technology. I calmed them with whiskey and cudgels and explained that there was no way this could be related to my good self as I am possessed of a healthy aversion to outside activities and never venture out in anything less than fully body armour and my trusty tank, Sherman.
But alas from the confines of their black leather ‘bitch bags’ they produced an ancient gasoline powered laptop. Cranking her up they proceeded without delay to their biker board and showed me this! Clicketty click for bigness.
Oh dear, dear, deary me Wobbling Fledgling. Many outrages have been perpetrated on The Gurrier over his long life in exile, many violent and heinous acts by friends and foe alike. But this, this! My God imitation is the sincerest form of flattery but bad grammar is unforgivable. Take if you will my handsome visage, plagiarise my hard won bitter words, but for fucks sake learn to punctuate! As my good friend Kesey once advised me “punctuate your sentences as you would the kidneys of your enemies. Each sentence should be shaped by the baton of good grammar and sharp scalpel of correct spelling.”
Consider this sentence:
“how long before someone draws tits and guinness fueled cartoon bubbles with suggestive commentary and maybe starts squirting them with piss for the laf, I know I would if no one was watching, well no one important like burly bouncer anyway
what about sticking a mirror in there instead onto the women’s jacks the far side (assuming its somewhere classy where no ugly buers are allowed in)”
CAPITALISE THE FIRST LETTER OF A SENTENCE! This is the first lesson learnt at an muinteoirs knee is it not.
Colloquialisms, idioms and slang now these are tricky but “with piss for the laf” should be spelt “with piss for the laff”. Then when you reach the end of the vitriol A FULL STOP IS NEEDED. Next sentence don’t forget the capital again. Now read the sentence out loud when you have written it. Does it scan? Does it sound right? When editing attempt to pare away all excess verbiage and unecessary words.
The last sentence makes little sense at all. What exactly is a ‘buer’? Do you mean whoor/whooer?
So to repeat here is the posting punctuated and spelt properly.
“How long before someone draws tits and Guinness fueled cartoon bubbles with suggestive commentary. Maybe starts squirting them with piss for the laff. I know I would if no one was watching, well no one important like a burly bouncer.
What about sticking a mirror in there instead. Put it onto the far side of the women’s jacks, assuming it’s somewhere classy where no ugly whooers are allowed in.”
Now that’s better. It’s not Shakespeare but we are getting somewhere.
Go in peace little Wobbling Fledgling and remember the words of The Gurrier.
Punctuate first, then mace!
P.S. Kesey wanted to put you in the Whorehopper, as she’ll need a good run to clear the pipes before Christmas. I urged him to enter into the spirit of the approaching season, but of course when threatened I gave up your Irish Broadband IP address 83.141.86.17 like the coward that I am.
P.P.S. Links to the site in your sig I have no problem with but I would appreciate it if you would take the photo down please.
October 25th, 2005 at 11:02 pm
A “buer” is a woman in the uncouth dialects west of the Shannon. For example, the expostulation:
“Gloke the chats on that buer, sham!”
would be roughly translated into Dublinese as, “woudja look at the tits on yer wan, bud!”
I suspect our ersatz gurrier is no gurrier at all but some bog-paddling hop-off-me-thumb from some festering hole out west where the gene pool doesn’t have a deep end and indoor plumbing is but a distant rumour. The Whorehopper is too good for such throwbacks: I’m all for drowning them in their Daddy’s silage pit and feeding the remains to the pigs.
October 26th, 2005 at 10:20 am
Weird that he’d use your pic though.
October 26th, 2005 at 11:17 am
Kesey I bow to your superior wisdom in these matters. To the muckspreader!
The pic thing is weird all right. Kind of freaky actually. Like someones been wearing your skin but not in a good way. Still now I’ve been identity thefted I feel I am now truly a citizen of the future.
October 26th, 2005 at 4:37 pm
I find it kinda creepy.
Get rid of the photo little doppleganger, or you will feel the wrath of The Gin Lady. You’ll be begging for Kesey and the Gurrier to end it all with the silage pit while I’m just getting warmed up.
August 11th, 2006 at 12:12 am
[...] Yes readers this fucktard has turned up again. This clueless mongbaby is on an Irish Bikeboard and due to his previous actions people quite innocently suspect he is me. It is not that he takes the name Gurrier in vain. Far be it for me to claim ownership of that one. No it’s that he set up links to this site in his profile, put pictures of me up there as his sig and then goes around threatening to stab people. [...]