Muammar Gaddafi - Human Rights Atrocities

In June of this year Muammar Gaddafi was charged with crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court. When informed of this Gaddafi was angered, though his face did little to express this feeling. His advisor described Gaddafi's reaction as, "Non-plussed, his face looked more bizarre than average, but nothing out of the ordinary for him". He went on to say, "His face looks like melting gelatin at the best of times, much like he has a rubber mask of a face over his own face, and then he has been unsuccessful in clawing it off. It's a mess, like the ballbag of a mannequin."

Though the charges pertain to Gaddafi's knowledge and involvement in the rape and murder of the people of Libya, there are other allegations that have only recently come to light. I am here to let the world  know what a horrible man Gaddafi is.

• He forces prisoners to watch back-to-back episodes of You've Been Framed, but he has the laughter track removed so they have no idea when to laugh. They just sit their in a confused malaise. Sickening.
• He makes all his bodyguards urinate at the same time, and each man has to hold the penis of the man to the left. Any soldier that shakes another man's penis more than three times is branded a gay and has to be spanked by Gaddafi.
• He allows his soldiers to watch the latest Hollywood blockbusters. However, he replaces the subtitles with haikus about soviet irrigation.
• He offers Libyan men free vasectomies to "Help control population". Gadaffi then poses as a doctor, anaesthetises the men but doesn't perform the vasectomy. While they're unconscious Gadaffi takes delight in shaving their pubic hair. The patient leaves none the wiser.
• He issues cotton buds to all the staff in his compound. He then makes each member off staff use them in front of him. But rather than allowing them the pleasure of swirling the tip around in their ear and cleaning their cavity, he makes them push the cotton bud in too far, past the point of pleasure so that it feels as though it's poking their brain.
• He watches X-Factor
• He recreates episodes of Challege Anika, though he wears leather pants with the ass cut out. He forces the director to follow very closely as he climbs stairs
• He forces the people of Tripoli to attend concerts he puts on. Gadaffi dresses as Bruce Springsteen and performs Born To Run very badly, over and over for up to thirteen hours. Anybody who runs is shot.
• His iPad can only be unlocked if he and his advisor both swipe their penis' on the screen at the same time. The screen auto-locks after 10 seconds.
• He had the Libyan Post Office issue a range of double-sided stamps. On the front was a picture of his penis, on the back a picture of his anus. The stamps in Libya are not self-adhesive.
• He blindfolds his wife and then handcuffs her to the bed. He then performs exquisite oral sex on her, taking her to the brink of ecstasy, at which point he stands up, says "Adios muchahco" and sits and watches The Crystal Maze reruns on Challenge TV. With her hands bound, his wife cant even frapp herself to completion. She just lies in her wet mess, listening to Gaddafi woop  in delight at The Crystal Maze.
• His guest bedroom is decorated with pictures of clowns with sharp teeth.
• He erected a staue of himself that overlooks a lake in Tripoli. He insisted that the statue has a huge, erect penis. He then hung a rope swing from the penis. He smiles with unbridled delight every time he sees a young child swinging from his penis.
• He dresses up as his own wife and tries to seduce his body doubles. If they decline he has them whipped, naked. If they accept he lets them fumble around his downstairs until they realise that he's a man, he then has them whipped, naked.
• He dips his penis and balls in his wife's make up. He then goes to the doctors claiming it's a tropical form of cock-rot he got from making love to a mermaid. He gets the doctors to inspect his penis for hours before washing it off and saying that he healed himself with the powers of his own mind. He will do this twice a month.
• He listens to U2 

I think we can all agree that the price on his head is not enough. He is one of the sickest, most twisted dictators in history....and clearly obsessed with penises. It's time for us to depose and dispose of him, he would be perfect for an effigy, his face already looks as though it's been too close to a fire. Get it done.

It's a Riot

As someone who lived in the same city as Mark Duggan, I was obviously angered that a man innocently driving through London with a loaded shotgun was murdered by the police. What is this country coming to that we can't even wander through the capital with loaded firearms without the police harassing us? It's ridiculous. In fact, just the other day I was quietly minding my own business, attacking pedestrians with nun-chucks and a katana when I got stopped by the police. Why is is that they only stop and search people like me? Where are my rights?

Like a lot of Londoners who had never met Mark Duggan, but lived within a 12 miles radius, I decided to protest his death. On Monday I was sat in my flat, watching my tiny 32" television and thinking that I should go and protest myself a more acceptable 42" or 52" television. Just because I don't have a job, why shouldn't I have a bigger television? Why is it that only the people that work all day and earn money have nice things?

As an homage to the free-speech protesters that gag themselves or place tape over their mouth's to give a visual representation of their oppression, I decided to put a scarf over my face to represent the way that the police was well getting in my face......and so I wouldn't get nicked. Anyway, I picked up my cricket bat and set out on to the streets. I got on bus and headed for Clapham Junction. After a good few hours of protesting my way through John Lewis's window I was ready for home. When I bought it I thought that £35 for a cricket bat was steep, but it paid for itself with as many deep-fat fryers and tampons that I could carry.

Tuesday night I decided to go out again. This time it was less in protest and more to find something more useful than a deep-fat fryer or tampons (I don't fry my food and my vagina has been defunct for years). After a few hours smashing windows in Canning Town, I decided to head home....swagless. On my way home I thought I'd nip in to Tesco and pick myself up something for tea, only to find that Tesco was closed due to the riots. I was devastated - You think it's all fun and games until you can't get your Tesco's Finest fish pie. Dejected,  I headed home.

When I approached the end of my road I saw a group of men my age looking like trouble. I don't want to sound racist here, so all I'll say is that though they are my age they don't look anything like me......though, to me, they all look the same as each other. Anyway, one of them pulled out a gun, I decided I should get home quickly....and change my underwear.

Once at home, I spent most of the night listening to Ride of the Valkyries, putting on camo paint and sharpening my "Justice Stick". I then barricaded myself in my room. You see, for years I have been accumulating oil in large drums and keeping them in my bedroom. Many of the women who had been in my bedroom (some, not many....okay, one) had thought that I was crazy, but I knew this day would come. A state of lawlessness where the youth rise up and lay our previous state to waste. Oil will be the new currency and I will be the king - In the end nothing happened and  I fell asleep watching Seinfeld.

Last night I was still in a bit of a rioty mood. Months ago I had been invited to a party on Facebook, at the time I didn't fancy it, but I re-red the invitation and in the description it said, "Anyone welcome. It'll be a riot". I turned up in my hoodie and ski mask, smashed a few windows and punched a woman in the face but it wasn't just the same. I forced my mate's thirteen year old brother to throw a cake into a ceiling fan, while I screamed, "Now you're a fucking man" - I don't think my friend will describe his other brothers bar mitzvah as a "riot".

I know a lot of you will be chastising my actions and calling me an idiot, but our government cut all the funding to local community support and summer programs. What you people don't understand is that if a man my age can't go to a youth club to play pool or ping pong, then he naturally has to go out on to the street and smash the place up. It's instinct.

In This Week's News

A Japanese woman has finally married her robotic bear boyfriend. Xiao Lin , 29, had been dating the bear, Patrick, 4, for over three years and decided it was time to take the next step. 

Xiao is very candid about her past and what this relationship means to her, "In the past I would find a man and instinctively try to change his personality through nagging and reinforcement through sex. I decided that this is just the natural progression". 

Now when she wants to stop him from depositing his waste in the woods, or refilling with anchovy oil in bed, she just re-programs him. No nagging, no withholding sex like she would with a human. She just alters his CPU. Simple and effective.

Initially there was uproar in Japan, with many people condemning their relationship. One local saying, "A woman having sex with a robotic bear, what's next, me having sex with my toaster?", he went on to say, "Just to be clear, is it now okay for me to have sex with my toaster?". The change in attitude towards the couple stemmed from Kyoto Mayor, Jin Kazama, who declared their relationship legal, "Fuck it. If she wants to fuck a robot then that's up to her. I bet that robot is more affectionate than my whore wife".

Their wedding was a small affair, held in the groom's Toshiba factory, and with only the bride and groom's close family in attendance. The bride's brother, Xinxu, was in charge of taking photographs, he said "It was just a beautiful ceremony. Simple and elegant". The groom's cousin, a Toshiba digital camera, was clearly moved, "It was wonderful. I'll remember this day for the rest of my (battery) life, or until someone deletes the images".

When asked about their love life Xiao didn't want to give too much away, "Let's just say that I'm very happy", she went on to say, "His penis is detachable so that I can't take it on business trips. It's also dishwasher safe". A match manufactured in heaven. 

Privacy

Privacy is something that we take very seriously. Every night I sit at my window and see just how seriously people take their privacy. I then put down my night vision goggles and curse the man who invented curtains. These days our privacy is being invaded all over. On the internet we sign up to websites and online services, idly agreeing to the terms and conditions, which, if we actually read, clearly show that Google, iTunes and Facebook are now permitted to access all recesses of our minds, store our bank details and force us to undertake past-life regression, all on the off-chance that it will help them sell more adverts (In a past-life I mustn't have been so well endowed).

But in the last few years both Google and Facebook have faced legal action regarding their privacy policies, turns out the forced rectal exam was one step to far. But as long as we want to use their websites then there is little we can do to stop them. After Google got a slap on the wrist they didn't relent, instead they got even more aggressive. Google+ are now taking direct advertising to a whole new level. If some of your friends within your circle access their Google+ from an iPad, you get a message saying, "3 of your friends have iPads, why don't you?" - Genius. They are combining ads for a desirable product with peer pressure, if only they could suggest it would also get you laid then they'd have covered everything.

It's not all Google and Facebook's fault. We are less private now than ever. I constantly update Twitter, Facebook, Google+ and Tumblr. Spouting out shite for the whole world to read. It doesn't bother me because I don't mind what people know or think about me, there are very few people whose opinion of me I would care about - in fact just the other day my best friend was telling me that he thinks I have intimacy issues......I didn't listen though cos he doesn't really know the real me.

But there's a difference between me going on Twitter and writing, "If I'm guilty of anything it's that I love too much.......but my lawyer thinks he can get it down to mild admiration", and me telling people about that guy I killed..........I don't want to get into it here but I thought it was the panda's blood....and he was alive when I left him. Anyway, that's why I don't got to regattas any more.

The News of the World scandal was a prime example of the hypocrisy over privacy in our society. The mass outrage that the public showed towards the News of the World was absolutely understandable, what they did with Milly Dowler was particularly upsetting. But the News of the World was Britain's biggest selling Sunday paper, every week it would have stories of celebrity scandals and gossip. Recently, millions of people were waiting for a super-injunction to be lifted so that the paper could pay a woman hundreds of thousands of pounds to tell all the details about sex with a married footballer. You can't clamor for scandal, gossip and information overload and then get angry about our lack of privacy when people go the extra mile to provide it . Incidentally, the reason I gave up on my dream of being Prime Minister was because I was worried that no women would come forward and admit to sleeping with me.......You know you did, Sarah, don't deny it.

Anyway, as I am such a fan of honesty and transparency, I've set up a website so you can watch me go about my day. Go to imthefuckingnuts.com and you scan follow me around London and watch me mill about at home. Last night the forums were going wild, one guy said I was mentally ill, "I can see your nuts" he said - Speaking of which, you should see this  PVC onesie I wear about the house, you get to see it all. That's real transparency. Nothing to hide.