http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCvbFRoDBCg

Fuck off.
You're wrong.
I'm right.
And.
Don't let the door smak you in the arse on the way out.

The FYIAD solution at its finest.

I've recently been informed by  grahamstanier that my critique of  jeremykyle's show has sent poor Jeremy back into his gambling addiction.
Please, either go to Jeremy's page and offer your support in the form of cash.

Alternatively you can donate to Jeremy's addiction at his paypal account: i_think_i_am_some_kind_of_god[at]itv.com
Actually I just made that up, but there you go.

In other news, I love my jobe because I get to watch TV and slag the shit out of it all day. I even appear on it sometimes.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=wiwmYjk9ARA

That's just a snippet of what I do for about £1000 a week. Then there's sponsorships, paid charity gigs and even he occasional news article for the Guardian.

 tehozza My #1 fan, apparently. She's really a stalker from up north that stands outside my flat for 24 hours a day.

 jeremyclarkson I love this guy. He's so educated and obnoxious that he makes me come every time he starts a sentence.

 dragoncomedian He models himself off me when it comes to writing. A dragon can never be as awesome as a pedophile walrus, remember that Mr Kearns.

 stephenhawking UNLEASH THE BEAST!

 wyraachur I'm only putting this one here because I know how much it will wind DragonComedian up.

 dragonfan And this one too!

I saw a submmision by foxmongler311LP and literally gagged on the foul taste of bullshit. Below is a text representation of their submission and my opinion of what each means. Had a little help from the DragonComedian on this one.

Warning:
Being a furry may have the following side effects

- Friendliness.
But only to the people that don't speak their mind about the fact that you wank off to pictures of Tails the fox from the Sonic games.

- Having an open mind.
Provided you complain that people who don't mongle dogs are closed-minded.

- Expansion of the imagination.
Which is really an excuse to add another cock into what is clearly porn of kids cartoons.

- Unforseen friendships.
With the pedophiles that submit to the baby fur section.

- Raised good attitudes.
I hate every fucker. Might not be a "good" attitude, but it's the fucking best one.

- Less stress.
Because we all know that furries are always smiling and not the falsely suicidal, self-diagnostic hypochondriac walking bitchfests that everyone sees on a daily basis.

- Spiritual connections.
This is really just an excuse to pretend that masturbating to pictures of people's pets is okay because you have added the word "kin" into your vocabulary.

- Philosophical views.
Actually, this is what you call any sentence you type that has a eithe no cursives or a word longer than seven letters. Kind of like the previous fucking sentence.

- Increased fun.
I agree with this one. Masturbation is fun.

- Increased artistry skills.
Actually it shoud say "artistic", but that's not the point. What it really means is that you'll get better at drawing a phallus into every picture.

- Getting to know yourself.
Unless you're suffering from amnesia, you already do know yourself you thick cunts.

- Getting away from your troubles.
By incorporating suicidal tendencies into your behaviour. I can think of nineteen teenagers down Bridgend that have recently got away from their troubles.

- Charitable opportunities.
And how to take advantage of them. Commenting in people's journals when they're offering freebies, for one.

- Insight to others.
Which is the realisation that everyone else is just as deluded as you.

- Warm fuzzy feeling inside and out.
Another way of saying "orgasm".

- Renewed hope in life.
After failing all of your exams because you spent all of your time in lesson doodling pictures of humanoid animals or looking at them on the internet you take an interest in writing and call it a fresh start, only to return into the porn hell you came from and write pornographic TF or Yiff stories without even realisng that you're just a fucking hypocrit like the rest of humanity.

- New ambitions.
See: Renewed hope in life.

- A reason to live.
A reason to have another wank tomorrow.

- A new relationship; in some cases leading to love.
A false internet relationship which follows the same route as a pedophile grooming a pree-teen little shit. You'll meet up after six months only to be drugged in their flat, dragged into the woods and be raped by several haggard elderly men, dressed up like a Sado-Masochist Alsatian gimp.

- Rejuvination of the soul.
Unless this has something to do with dusting off some old Louis Armstrong tapes, I have no idea what the fuck this is supposed to mean. Probably some furry version of Feng Shui.

- Setting personal goals to meet.
Like getting a girlfriend/life/job/friends.

- Improving your character; fictional and real-life.
Proving to your (if any) real life friends that you aren't a completely hopeless reject of society that has an unhealthy obsession with animals and an anti-social approach to those less fortunate than your self.

- An outlet of your feelings; often of anger, depression or caring.
Two out of three isn't bad.

- Having a new sense of balance.
Like when your parents find out that you spend all day pretending to be a wolf and take away your internet and force you to get a part-time job in a caring effort on their part for you to get out of your sweaty bedroom and experience the great outdoors for a change. Even if it is as a sandwich maker at Subway.

- Learning more about yourself.
Like how you repeat your self when you make an effort to try and make positive points about your self. Don't believe me, then scroll up this entry and see how similar it looks to the words "getting to know yourself".

- Renewed self confidence.
Only for it to be dragged back down into depression when you realised that you've woken up yet again.

- Discovering new gifts you have.
Like the ability to lie and decieve others into thinking you're not a complete dickhead all of the time.

- And much much more.
Which is quite regrettable.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=V1QhKjPHMdI

Welcome to the NHS, the National Health Swindle. Big several square mile plots of land that exist under the pretext of helping you to get better, when what really happens after being told to have a long rest is they leave you to starve on the side of a disused ward's corridor or give you MRSA after a simple injection of local anaesthetic because the dirty phillipino fuckers didn't wash their hands after sticking them several feet up their arseholes and then smearing them over several yards of enriched plutonium.

Too harsh?

Perhaps. But I'm really here to help. Those sterilised IV tubes that keep giving people MRSA? Burn them and replace. Those dirty fuckers that don't wash their body after giving someone with dysentery a blow job? Sack them with a reference so empty the only place they'll be able to work is with the people that will inevitably replace them at McDonalds.

I can go down the pub, drink a couple of pints of the best camel's piss, go for a slash, not wash my hands and carry on drinking and stuffing my face with cheese & onion flakies. Wake up the next day with a major hangover that is treated with one tablet of aspirin or that fizzy stuff you drop in water that makes you go "ahhh" just from listening to it. No MRSA. No deadly super-infections. No problem.

So what makes the NHS different? Easy. Not enough alcohol. That isn't me being clever by suggesting the use of sterilising alcohol gel for your hands, by the way. I literally do mean the stuff that is supposed to make you obese and give you liver and kidney disorders, as well as heart disease from consuming all those fatty kebabs during said drunken stupor. I propose that all patients admitted to any NHS hospital should be automatically shortlisted for a massive piss up and one treatment of fizzy plasterboard in water the day after. That way nobody will get MRSA, nobody will die and the female nurses might actually begin to look attractive for once.

Later bitches,
Uncle Charlie.

Scalies:
Scalies don't have a birthday every year, they have a hatchday. Hatchday? You weren't hatched you little shits, you were discovered under the pool table of your nearest pub like all the rest of the unloved little cunts.

Canines:
I don't know about the blokes, but you can spot the women a mile away. Out of a litter of six, you are the only bitch that whines.

Avians:
Most birds can fly. Your fat arses can't even get out of bed in the afternoon.

2 the Ranting Gibbon:
If I wanted to listen to a bald bloke bitch about insignificant things then I'd shave my hair and talk at myself in the mirror.

TFers:
The only thing that will change about your body is its weight as it grows fatter and fatter because the only exercise you get is from wanking away to all the TF stories on here. Small left forearms, big right forearms - you know who you are.

RP Yiffers:
You must show me how you type and crack one off at the same time, as it's surely a skill that I will need to save the life of someone choking on their own vomit from accidentally reading your disgusting filth.

Human FA users:
Like myself you can't really be arsed to make an effort at being a Furry, so you create a hopeless character like my pedophile walrus to reflect the fact that you're actually a fat shit that hates everyone because of your own self loathing. Pleased to meet you.

For one, I only get to fuck fat kids. And even then it's on the beach where I'll most likely get sand stuck on my bell end.
I'll be much better off in a zoo where I can just just grab one of the little twats at random from the loving arms of their parents and rape the living shit out of the little cunts.

Another problem is that not only am I a fat bastard now, I always will be a fat shit. Of course, this is what happens when you spend all day watching television, making expensive TV-clip shows on BBC4 that are only good for the stoner kids of youtube and playing on GTA4 just so you can see how many different ways you can make a human body bounce from the bonnet of a car at different speeds.
Who says you don't get value for money on modern video games?

For those that don't know much about me as a furry, allow me to clear a few things up for you.

My character's name is Charlie Brooker and he is a walrus. I have a face like a pedophile walrus, so I may as well be one right?
Charlie likes nothing better than slobbing in front of the television and making sarcastic and cynical comments about everything he sees on it.
Charlie is just under six feet tall and weighs a bit more than he'd like. Which is okay because weight problems are treated for a bargain on the NHS. Charlie believes that morbid obesity, however, should actually be treated with one little dose of lead administered to the back of the patient's head. Lesser cases with a healthy beating and cases like me with a stern look before or after I unleash the biblical hell of my very own words into your fuck ugly ears.

So that's a little bit about me as a furry.
Pics are appreciated. Actually they're not. They're taken and used to scratch away at the shitty flecks that cover my hemorrhoids before setting them alight and using the ashes to dilute the drugs taken in a day by Pete Fuckface Doggertit and Lazy Whinewhore.
Actually, they really are appreciated. (puppy eyes)

Until later on,
Uncle Charlie.