Monday, 27 September 2010

Wye are you doing this to me?

So the other day we went to Wye to baptise a crown cut into the living rock.
There is an 80% chance you don't know where Wye is, its in Kent, as are many places.
In the 1930s some fucknuts decided to carve a crown into a hill to celebrate the fact that they were bum chumps. Or something.
We took an aversion to this 80 years down the line and decided to baptise it for Satan.
An activity we are regularly seen doing really. Baptisms = the don.
This is the bloody crown.

It is a bit gay.

Tar'lor getting his swear on.
You have to swear at your target before you baptise it to soften it up.
Its like in a PSOne WWF game where you have to unnecessarily punch your opponent for ages before you can pin them slash a bit like when you have to beat up a pokemon before you can catch it.
A bit like that.
Its difficult to see the crown.
I would say click on it to enlarge, but you honestly can't see it .
However, trust me its there.

Right then.
Better baptise the fucker.
Not really any method in this madness.
Just go mental on a hill with an upside down black cross.
Any onlookers will be intimidated by how 'metalasfuck' you look.

There is also no moral to this post.
Unless 'Don't carve a crown into a hill or we will baptise it' is a moral.
But I suspect its not, more of a threat really. If anything.

Tuesday, 21 September 2010

Reading Our Souls

Somebody went to Reading Festival of Music and Beer and stuck up loads of stickers promoting our wealth of genius. It wasn't us.
However we got our top Satanic Scientists on the job of translation (that
is us).
Here is what they came up with;


"Shit yourself. Then boast about it"
Our boffins down at the lab have thought long and hard about the underlying message of this statement and it's Satanic connotations. At its most basic level boasting about shitting one's self is boasting about an endeavour that is not difficult, but rather frowned upon by a conservative society. Thus what this is saying is 'break free of thine sociological chains and make it clear for all to see'.
An ethos we can all stand behind.
"Smoking is Cool"
In these heady days of interwebs and ipod mobile phone pads doing dangerous activities that might kill you is apparently 'cool'. Or so we are lead to believe by this recent trend in 'skateboarding'. Anyhow, if risking immediate death is cool then why isn't killing yourself slowly over a period of time?
Or whatever.
That's what the dude who stuck this up probably thought.
We don't know.
We're not him.
or her.
maybe.
"Deliberately get some STIs. Spread 'em"
Sharing is one of the humanity's warmest expressions of unity as a species. As such we are fully against the concept. Whoever this dark mysterious wizard putting up stickers is, he has grasped this concept and tried to advertise the only time when sharing results in pain, embarrassment and an old indian woman sticking a cotton bud down things you do not want an old indian woman sticking cotton buds down.

"Learn Norweigan. (sic) It's Fucking Metal."
What we learn from this message is that our mystery sticker Wizard knows his facts.
But cannot spell the word Norwegian.


"The Queen is Fit"
Incorrect, StickerWizard. She used to be fit. Obviously if you shagged her now you'd still be in store for a bumper pack of lad points. But she's going to be a paper bag job at best, at worst an entire body bag job. I don't know how that'd work though. Cut a hole in the body bag? Not sure. A challenge to say the least, I suppose some of the lad points would be awarded for overcoming that problem.
We're not sure what "opdead!" is.
we suspect the 'op' stands for 'Old Person'
As they are the people who are most regularly dead.

Thursday, 16 September 2010

Transitional Structural Management Period (of Doom)


Recently many of our dark and elusive number (aka all 3 of us) have taken on tasks above and beyond the call of duty. We won't go into what these tasks are, namely because they are so wretched and sadistic we'll get banned from the internet by the CIA and Interpol and BBC1.

However these tasks have been undertaken, and as such the blog (or Eternal Digital Chapters of Many Desecrations as we like to call it) shall only be updated once a week on Sunday, and sometimes, when we forget... not at all.

To encourage your forgiveness/sate your wrath here is a picture of one of our odious and torrid number casting a spell across the whole land. The spell's name is 'up yours readership'.

It's the same spell the Daily express cast every monday when they put princess Di(e) on the front page AGAIN.

Imagine he is singing the Indiana Jones theme tune (because he was)

Friday, 3 September 2010

Saving Private Shar' Muel

As many of you have written to us in your own blood recently clamouring for an explanation to why Shar'muel Fiihn has returned after such a long absence we decided that we would tell you the tale of his loss, absence and subsequent return.

The Bloody Loss
One day he just wasn't there, he left a note saying that he thought he could do better Satanic things alone. A sort of evil one man band, if you will. Here is a transcript of the note.

Sup Bitches,
Ba-sick-ally I adore and salute you both as my brethren in the coming apocalypse.
However I honestly think that sometimes you two are taking the piss a little bit.
you don't start every morning with a prayer to the antiquericed asking him to accuse you of shit you didn't do, you don't even have particularly good shrines to him in your bedrooms. Bai Naargmbuul, yours is just a shoe box with 'Satan' written on it with some rocks in it you think look rad.
Its just a poor effort.
As such I am going to elope and start my own roving band of misfits or something.
plus living in that tree house is starting to really piss me off.
Yours satanically,
Vice Chancellor Shar' Muel Fiihn

The Bloody Absence
Unfortunately for our cousin in chaos his little foray into lone ranger-esque solitude did not go well. He ended up lost and alone, roaming the countryside baptising what he could, which tended to be stiles and tractors and other rural guff. But alone he was not as powerful as our evil trio and often these baptisms went poorly, sometimes he would actually make those things function better than they had before. For example one gate actually got less rusty and started being a very efficient gate, the villagers of the area ganged together and bought him a basket full of fruits and ham and whatnot.
He hated it.
Embarrassed by his failure he went into hiding in a local art student accommodation building.
It was mind blowingly rubbish.

The Bloody Subsequent Return
As detailed above, our powers as a trio are noticeably stronger than one of us alone, or two of us. And as such the remaining pair suffered accordingly. They had to find him.
But had no idea how.
But then they saw an advert on TV (there's a TV in the tree house now, it runs on wood goblin blood) for this thing called 118 666 where you call up and they find Satanist things for you.
We called up and they were like 'yeah we know him he's in this shed thing that some students probably live in or whatever'
and we were like 'oh cool dude where is it'
and they were like 'dunno some field'
and we were like 'oh yeah we know it, safe thanks man, bee tee double yew how much does this phone call cost?'
and they were all like '£6.66'
and although it was expensive we dealt with it.

Then we went and found him.

living in his own filth, look how shit his bed is. look how messy his room is. rubbish.

We found him cowering in a darkened room, tired from house parties and having to talk to shitty graffiti "artists" asking if they could put their tag on his walls. After a short while of convincing him we were friend not foe he rejoined our rag tag band of Necromancers.

We then baptised it for Satan with an upside down cross we created poorly, Shar' Muel had long since thrown his away. We had to smash up their roof in order to make it. I use the term 'had to' in the loosest sense possible.

Here is he being officially welcomed back to we. There were so many people there taking photos of this prestigious and argubly history changing event, Shar' Muel just smiled at the group of them. This was just one of the photos.

And so now he's back.
All in all the ordeal took nine and a half years.
Time best forgotten.

NEXT WEEK WE BAPTISE THE TALKING TREE IN MOTHERCARE IN MAIDSTONE
(you; but its not there anymore! us; yes it is, at the back behind the coats. you just don't know because you never go into mothercare anymore)