British justice (do not read if you think I'm pleasant)

I've held off on passing my own judgement on the British justice system for long enough,well it's about time that I at least let people know what is going wrong and how it can be fixed!

Why is it that judges are so hesitant to deliver hefty sentences that will genuinely deter people from re-offending? The answer is that they are total pussies, pussies that wear stupid black robes like an extra from fucking Harry Potter and wigs that make them look like a 90 year olds nut sack with a grey pube combover.

How is it that somebody nicking 6 bottles of water is sentenced to 6 months in prison and a paedophile with 6000 images of kids gets 4 months suspended for 2 years. The answer is glaringly obvious, no one gives a fuck about this country anymore. The judges earn so much money they can holiday in Barbados for 6 months of the year to escape the shit hole that is England.

If I was a judge you'd see proper sentences, I'm not talking slaps on the wrist here, I'm talking 2 broken arms and the rectal insertion of a pineapple sharp end up. Allow me to give you a couple of examples.

EXAMPLE 1:  "A 60-year-old man  from North Norfolk has been placed on the Sex Offenders register  after admitting possessing hundreds of indecent images of children. Philip Hilstrop, of The Warren, Cromer, appeared at Norwich Crown Court today, Friday 24 June 2011, where he was sentenced to four months in jail suspended for two years. Hilstrop had previously pleaded guilty on Monday 6 June 2011 to possession of more than 1000 indecent images".

Incredibly this is the quote from the lead investigator:

"We hope this sentence sends out a strong message to those intent on possessing such images. We should remember that behind every image there is a victim of abuse."

Det Con Michaela Cunningham, Vulnerable Persons Unit

JUDGE DAVE SAYS: "Nail the filthy old bastard to a tree, cover him in glue and them a layer of bird seed. Leave for a while and let the crows peck the filthy bastard to death. Shoot or poison the crows, grind them up, make a pie out of them and feed the pies to other filthy paedo's with a sprinkle of fucking cyanide. Sack the fucking moron bitch that thinks 4 months suspended for 2 years is a suitable sentence for a child abuser.

EXAMPLE 2: A double rapist - who used his victim's phone to taunt her mother - has been warned if he continues to breaches his Sexual Offences Prevention Order he will be back before the court. Michael Quinn, 22, appeared at Crown Court on Tuesday to plead guilty to violating his SOPO on 30 January 2011. The breach occurred when Quinn broke the rules of his probation-approved hostel accommodation by drinking alcohol in the premises. In suspending his two month jail term for two years, Judge Patrick Lynch QC told Quinn if he committed any further offences, "I can assure you that as far as I'm concerned, these two months will be consecutive to any other sentence."

JUDGE DAVE SAYS: 2 months suspended for 2 fucking years? Yeah that's shown him, I mean he's obviously learned his fucking lesson by committing these crimes whilst on probation for other crimes. Cut this filthy bastards tongue out and strangle him to within an inch of his life with it. Peel the filthy slag's skin off and dump him in a skip full of salt. Beat him every single fucking day until his brain leaks out of his fucking shoe.

Here's my take on the minimum sentences to be handed down for various crimes.

Murderers: Forced into being bubba from cell C6's sex slave, beaten every night for three hours. shot in head the day before their anticipated release.

Rapists: Face tattooed bright blue, released into general public with an amnesty for anyone that kicks the living shit out of them. If you kill them you receive a one off cash payment of 500k.

Paedophiles: Scoop their eyes out with a rusty teaspoon, Tazer them every 20 minutes 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Feed their eyes to them for dinner.

Their are countless other crimes that deserve stoning, Failing to parallel park correctly for example, littering and swearing fall into this category too.

I could really get into this justice malarkey, I'm off to dream of beating down scumbags,


Don't have nightmares,

Much love from Dave !

X Factor is back!

Some things in life just make you feel good about yourself, a basket full of kittens, a cute little golden Labrador puppy maybe even a midget amputee Eskimo hooker!

X Factor is one of those things that has me in two minds. On one hand I love it, basket case after basket case wandering onto the stage comparing themselves to Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey or Lionel Ritchie.... Only to barely sound like a small Filipino fisher boy that has been kicked in the throat by a donkey wearing roller skates. Wheezing, mumbling and moaning their way through 3 minutes of my life that I am unable to claim back.

For a TV show that has spawned such dross as Jedward, G-G-Gareth G-G-G-G-Gates (spit it out you giant blubbering vagina!) and Chico the tool. At this point I know people that are fortunate and privileged enough to know me will be asking themselves the all important question, "Why hasn't he mentioned Cher Lloyd?" Well the reason for this is simple, I think I may have misjudged her. She's young, hot headed and full of ambition, and I simply mistook it for being a trampy slut with a chip on her shoulder who has less talent than an Afghan brothel.Oh wait I was right first time.

Let's start at the top, the host of X Factor is a Mr Kermit O'Dreary. He's a boring, monotonous imbecile that wears polo necks from the 70's and has the charisma of a stale pringle.

Then you have the 4 judges......

Louis Walsh: What can I say, the man doesn't vote in favour of any acts unless they are either simple or Irish. If they are both he gets so excited I think he may on occasion accidentally set off the trouser sprinkler system. The poisonous, handbag carrying leprechaun rides around the venue on his unicorn protecting his pot of gold and generally making people despise him.

Kelly Rowland: Next.

Gary Barlow: What can you say about the man? He's an incredibly talented, not bad looking (according to my wife) guy. He's pretty much a northern version of me. He can play over 26,312 musical instruments at once and is a part of one of the most successful bands of all time.

Tulisa: Real name Tula Paulinea Contostavlos, meh.... I don't know if I like her or not. I think I probably would if I happened to be single, drunk and hard up on my luck. But what the ACTUAL FUCK is she doing on a talent show? I've scraped dog shit off of my shoe that's had more musical ability than this pleb. Did you know Tulisa turned down a quarter of a million pounds to pose naked in playboy...... What a selfish BITCH! I think she owes it to the general public to whip it all off and let us be the judge of whether she's up to nude modelling or not!

Then you have the masses of mongs that queue for 3 weeks just to make a fool of themselves on national television. If you can't sing DON'T FUCKING SING! I can't sing, I am so tone deaf I even type flat, so I leave it to the professionals like Mr Blobby and the Cheeky girls.

First up was some lad that got his bum out on stage, he revealed that he had a bunch of girls names tattooed on his arse cheeks, I didn't exactly catch why but I am sure they are thrilled to be so close to his shit chute.

But the guy that really pissed me off was George. Last year he auditioned as a part of a trio called 'triple trouble'. To say they were gutter shite would be too kind on them. As they got booed off the stage our George threw an epic paddy and threw his mic to the floor. What did it ever do to you ya knuckle dragging pond scum?

Well this year George was back, new look but the same poor attitude and simple vacant look in his eyes. He's got that look that makes you think he's had a terribly hard life, a life of being smacked in the face with a shovel, a tough love upbringing on the mean streets of Stratford-upon-avon. He's now sporting a whole bunch of tattoo's that appear to have been drawn onto him by a quadriplegic with a marker pen gaffer taped to their tongue. He was awful, tone deaf, out of time, irritatingly stupid. The judges called his performance to an abrupt end and the newly 'reformed' George didn't like it one bit. He called Tulisa something like a skanky bitch or something which is preposterous. Does he not know she's got a house?

Why do I watch this shit? Well mainly boredom, but also a morbid curiosity, it's like when you see a 50 stone woman in a nice bikini, you know you shouldn't look but there's just something in your mind that you can't stop.

Well that's about it for tonight, It's 11pm, I have a bit of photo editing to do before I go to bed.

Sleep well, thanks for reading and have a good night.

Dangerous Dave  x x x <-----these are for the women, I'm not a freak!-------<<<<<

Cow or pickle? you decide!

Good evening,

Let's start off with a little game, It's called Cow or Pickle......

Now it may seem obvious to you, you might have an IQ higher than a lobotomised snail. But for some people it's a whole lot more tricky than you might imagine! Well this is where the story begins.....

It was a dark and stormy night, the rain came down in sheets, Only joking it was grey and overcast. My beautiful, intelligent, witty and classy wife (I had to say this as she might read my blog this time) decided she fancied a gourmet meal at McDonalds. City road in Islington hardly conjures up an image of rooftop garden Bistro's and quality glasses of wine but then neither does any branch of this pox ridden, gutter scraping serving pit of a 'restaurant'. The food is shit, the service is shitter and the staff at this branch couldn't muster the intelligence of a 3 year old if their brains were all glued together.

You know it's going to be hard work when you ask the young lady at the window for a coke and she pronounces it 'cock'.... Love I don't want a cock, I may look like a fat George Michael but that's not how I roll. The rest of the order went remarkably smoothly, that should have served as warning number 1, however in our famished state and with riot police driving up and down the road we were looking forward to escaping.

"And finally can I have a cheeseburger with NO PICKLE please".

"£12.25, window 2"...... You could at least say please or thank you ya miserable illegal immigrant tramp! We roll around the corner to window 2 hitting 3 Somalians, a Nigerian and a token white fella (although I think he was Romanian!)

At window 2 we were greeted by a kid that looked like he'd worn a face mask made of actual killer bee's and been stung by each and every one of them. Nothing makes me look forward to the mustard in my burger than a spot filled with enough bright yellow puss to drown a tiger.

He passed us the bag of food and off we toddled, Kelly unwrapped her burger about 5 minutes down the road and bit into it. The next thing I hear is an angry grunt followed by "What the fucking fuck?".

"What's wrong babe?" I asked, (I call her this as she has an uncanny resemblance to the Holly wood animal star of the same name)

"Check that burger for me". Well asking a fat guy to test a burger is like asking a priest to fancy a choir boy. Now I always fancied myself as a bit of a CSI style investigator so I peered into the bun, not a piece of meat to be seen! Now at this point I know a lot of people will be thinking"But Dave, there's less meat in a Maccy D's Burger than in your average Carrot". My reply would be that eyelid scrapings, ground scrotum and a little bit of rectum is still meat of sorts.

Somehow the silly twunt on window 1 (going by it's number the premier window to work at) had mistaken the word pickle for meat, no pickle.... no meat.... it's an easy mistake to make I guess. Surely it must have been a mistake at the burger construction phase.

Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but how can a cheeseburger still be named so with no fucking burger? It was a cheese (if you can call that fluorescent yellowy orange shit cheese) pickle and onion roll!

I  feel a letter to Ronald is in order, Here it is.


Dear Ronald,

Please can you help me? I am writing in the hope that you can explain to me the selection process for McDonalds staff. Do you pick them according to which one can lick an electric fence for the longest? Or maybe by which staff member is stupid enough to actually order the fillet-o-fish.

After being given a cheeseburger I ordered with no pickle I would like to say I was amazed but actually I really wasn't, to find that my burger not only had2, yes 2! pieces of pickle in it, but the useless bitch on the serving window actually put through my burger order as no meat. I know that accidents happen as I am sure the parents of the girl that served will agree. I mean come on, no meat? Are you actually bloody serious? How can someone be so stupid? Wait don't answer that, she could barely speak English, it's obvious that the words for meat and pickle are similar in Asia. Normally I'd eat my own infected big toe nail rather than frequent one of your poor excuses for a restaurant but sadly some antibiotics I recently took for a chest infection cleared it up so I was stuck with your dross.

Might I suggest the following training courses to help your staff recognise the difference between Animal, Vegetable and mineral.

Course 1: Animal recognition. I feel this might help save a few staff members lives when they go to sweep up what they presume to be a piece of dried out lettuce and actually turns out to be an escaped Lion from London Zoo.

Course 2: Fruit recognition. Whenever I order a strawberry milkshake it seems to always taste of banana. I can suggest a short film I stumbled across while looking for top quality free Hollywood blockbusters. It's called Sally the midget, amputee, Eskimo rides a banana. (I thought the file title said Tron or Superman, HONEST!) They will forever remember that a banana is yellow.

This should help save lives and increase customer satisfaction in your restaurants.

Yours sincerely,


Hamburglar.


I wonder if I'll get a reply, I doubt it.

Much love,

Dave