Students - surely they can't all be Dickheads!

Being an expert right at the cutting edge of retail security has it's highs and lows. The majority of the people I have dealings with are as high as a kite, or of unusually low intelligence. Many of these are ill fated losers, cast adrift from an unforgiving, dog eat dog contemporary society, that has very little time for sympathy or sentiment.
Circumstance has often dealt them an appalling hand and they are trying blindly, each in their own futile, misguided way, to play the right cards in a monumental effort to get through each agonising day.

Some of these impoverished, wretched 'Dickheads' deserve a second chance, but one irritating group of spoilt, selfish, annoyingly unwise and socially inept toe-rags certainly do not!

THE STUDENT ( Spotticus vacuous ) fits perfectly into this repulsive little niche. Don't be fooled by the fully developed body or the ability to hold an occasional meaningful conversation, they are evil, scheming parasites that will, given the chance, suck you dry both emotionally and financially!

Recently many of these these obnoxious over-sized babies discarded their soiled pampers and engaged in an alcohol fuelled 'Dickhead' Fest known as 'Rag Week'. God only knows what goes on in their tiny, inconsiderate, juvenile minds, perhaps it's something like this:

Lets all get completely arseholed and entertain ourselves by acting in a repugnant, disgusting anti-social manner that greatly offends the good folk who have paid for our education. Getting totally pissed makes it 'ok' to flout the law by committing acts of gross stupidity and wanton vandalism, with absolutely no thought as to the consequences. We are far too selfish to give a tinkers toss about other people because we are 'Cool' and having fun. Don't worry about the broken bottles, empty cans and stinking piles of garbage we have thoughtlessly left behind, someone else will clean it up.

Need I say any more?

Students please read the following short message:

Respect ..... it's only a small word but try looking it up in the dictionary ( somewhere between rectum and revulsion ). True it may at first seem an alien concept, until you put it into practice and begin to realise that without it you are complete 'Dickheads'!!

The Galway Dickhead

Disclaimer:

The author of this report wishes it to be known that Galway is indeed a truly gracious, welcoming city. All references pertaining to 'Dickheads' and their wretched, obnoxious existence could sadly, be aimed at any city in the Modern World.
This is not a scurrilous personal damnation of Galway, or it's thriving local population.

Galway city itself is a charming, vibrant new meets old type of place, bursting with character and characters. To the uneducated, blinkered eye it portrays a flourishing, harmonious multi-racial society seething with Irish history and culture.

Sounds idyllic, ..... try this!

Galway city itself is a veritable haven for delinquents, bursting with 'Dickheads' and buffoons, mostly of little or no intelligence. To the educated, unblinkered eye it portrays a feckless, discordant multi-racial society seething with arseholes and even more 'Dickheads'

It's Monday 6am in Eyre Square Galway, an unfortunate refuse technician is hosing away an extravagant accumulation of colourful vomits as the pigeons are having their first shite of the day. Our under-cover reporter, managing skilfully to avoid a pregnant, one legged Romanian beggar whistling 'Danny Boy' through her false teeth, makes his way gingerly, across the square.
Pausing briefly to set the auto focus on his 'Nikon' he spots a potential 'Dickhead', head down, mumbling profanities and meandering aimlessly around like some clockwork soldier in need of winding up.
Shuffling to within a yard of our reporter the drunken oaf, squinting through his good eye, shoves an almost empty bottle of Lidl own brand 'rocket fuel' into his face.
"Give m-me a f-f-fag and shoo can harve a d-d-drink" he offers,
"Sorry Officer I don't smoke" our reporter replies to the Policeman "

By now it's almost 6:30am, the express train from Dublin has just arrived and the square is filling up with the usual curious array of tourists, students, backpackers and other mindless degenerates. Our reporter, his senses now in overdrive, strides purposefully and joins the impromptu gathering.

Sure enough, as the clock strikes 7:04am ( Everything is late in Ireland! ) a 'Dickhead' is spotted, lurching ominously towards a pathetic looking ensemble of naive American students. Pandemonium takes centre stage as the 'Dickhead' begins to poke fun at the hapless, freckled congregation. This is truly the abode of all Demons he begins to think, picking his way deftly through the chaos in an attempt to locate and thus observe the protagonist.

"This is so not good, I am like going to report you to the authorities or something" squeals an orange faced, surgically enhanced Britney Spears lookalike, now squaring up to the 'Dickhead'. "My Pa's an attorney on West Ortega, Santa Barbara. I call his cell and he sues your ass you freakin mother!"

The 'Dickhead' just laughs into her incandescent 'Botox' face, "You Irish?" he says, a constant discharge of saliva trickling from the corner of his putrid, festering mouth."I'm Irish and proud" he continues, scratching his genitalia "I used to be famous".
"So did O J Simpson" replies Barbie "But now he's a goddam freak show just like you!"

"Do the words 'Live Aid' ring a bell?" the mangy misfit asks, changing the subject.
"It's Band Aid you'll need" announces america's next top model, striking a crisp,well aimed blow to the 'Dickhead's' stubbly chin.

At that precise moment the 'Silicon chip inside his head gets switched to overload' "I don't like Mondays" exclaims the 'Dickhead' "I want to shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down" he cries, staggering pathetically away.

I know it's a 'Rat Trap' but Sir Bob how could you?

They say that 'The higher you climb the further you fall'.

That is the thought in our reporters mind as he ambles, mission accomplished, back to HQ.

Dickheads in Love

A 'Dickhead' in Love is a 'Dickhead' to be Feared!

This deranged, tortured soul possesses an overwhelming, primeval urge for companionship. Cringingly pathetic and embarrassing, his futile attempts to befriend members of the opposite sex are always met with little response and a lot of instant pain (usually in the groin area!)

Bearing this in mind, many of these desperate 'Dickheads' have subscribed to a sickening, little known ancient technique involving exhumation and post death relationships.

After months of intensive research we eventually tracked down 'David' (pictured above) a self-certified 'Dickhead' of dubious parentage. Sadly his disturbing tale was all too familiar

"Snot miy forlt" he defended himself "Oh-k sew I'me a stewpid cnut, eye carnt dineye thart" he added.
"Art tha serimoni Wen wee gott marrid tha ring keept forlin offer finga. And wen wee tri too mayk luv ...."
"Oh Shit! he's shagging a skeleton!" our reporter exclaimed, stopping David in mid sentence.
"I think I'm going to throw up" he gasped, legging it swiftly away.

An undisclosed source informed us recently that the couple had now broken up. Apparently she gave him the elbow........four ribs, both kneecaps and several vertebrae!!

Summary.

Do not under any circumstances approach a 'Dickhead' in love. If in doubt please once again observe the Ten Metre Rule!!

Dickhead in the Pool

Dickhead, need I say more!!

Dickheads - Attack is the Best form of Defence!

Spotting the 'Dickhead' before he singles you out is crucial. This is easy enough in a safe, uncrowded environment, ie in your shed, at a Cliff Richard concert or walking on the Moon for instance. Here the chances of meeting anyone at all are quite remote and you should be relatively safe from a 'Dickhead' intervention, unless of course you end up backstage alone with Cliff!

When he stops preening himself and has bored you stupid with his Knighthood, Gold Discs and 'Summer Holiday' incident anecdotes, ask him his age. This will throw his ego maniacal decaying grey matter into turmoil leaving you the easiest possible escape.

After wiping the botox smile off his contorted, wrinkly face with a textbook left hook, follow it up with a few hurtful truisms ie: you are a crap singer and you smell like a dead badger you senile old faggot. Wired for sound? you should be wired to an electric chair.

Hint .... Leave the arena briskly!!

As proven above, Attack IS the best form of Defence, if in any doubt then the 'Ten Metre Rule' should always be employed.


Take time to listen to Pat Condell below. If he were PM he would get my vote anyday!

Enjoy the video