ask the fuckface


  • You can call me Susan if it makes you happy.
  • I’m taking the dog for a walk.
  • What are you doin’ here?
  • What’s the problem?
  • What’s in the car?
  • Do you know what ‘nemesis’ means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent. Personified in this case by an ‘orrible cunt: me.
  • You take sugar?
  • I’m sweet enough.
  • It was two minutes five minutes ago.
  • Speak English to me.
  • You are obviously the big dick.
  • There are two types of balls. There are big, brave balls and there are little, mincey balls.
  • These are your last words, so make them a prayer.
  • Dicks have drive and clarity of vision, but they are not clever.
  • They smell pussy and they want a piece of the action.
  • You got your parties muddled up. There’s no pussy here, just a dose that’ll make you wish you were born a woman.
  • Like a prick, you’re having second thoughts.
  • You are shrinking and your two little balls are shrinking with you.
  • The fact you’ve got ‘replica’ written down the side of your guns and the fact I’ve got ‘Desert Eagle point five 0’ written down the side of mine should precipitate your balls into shrinking, along with your presence.
  • Now, fuck off.
  • Why do they call him the bullet-dodger?
  • Your seats? This is a stolen car, mate.
  • In the quiet words of the Virgin Mary… come again?
  • It’s a four ton truck. It’s not as if it’s a packet of fucking peanuts, is it?
  • When you reverse, things come from behind you.
  • I thought you said he was a getaway driver. What the fuck can he get away from?
  • You should never underestimate the predictability of stupidity.
  • You’re always gonna have problems lifting a body in one piece.
  • Apparently, the best thing to do is cut up a corpse into six pieces and pile it together.
  • Would someone mind telling me, who the fuck are you?
  • I hear the best thing to do is feed corpses to pigs. They will go through bone like butter.
  • A single pig can consume two pounds of uncooked flesh every minute. Hence the expression: ‘as greedy as a pig’.  
  • Well, thank you for that. That is a great weight off my mind.
  • If you wouldn’t mind telling me who the fuck you are, apart from someone who feeds people to pigs of course?
  • Shut up and sit down, you big, bald fuck.
  • I hope you appreciate the concern I have for my friend.
  • I’m not sure about the colour.
  • You can’t change fighters.
  • Why are we stopped here?
  • It’s too tight.
  • Too tight? You could land a jumbo fucking jet in that.
  • He tells people he was named after a gun, but I know he was really named after a famous 19th century ballet dancer.
  • There’s a gun in your trousers. What’s a gun doing in your trousers?
  • It’s for protection.
  • It’s a free country, ain’t it?
  • It ain’t a free shop, is it? So fuck off!
  • Anything to declare?
  • Don’t go to England.
  • You stop me again whilst I’m walking and I’ll cut your fucking Jacobs off.
  • What the fuck do you mean?
  • They look like shit, don’t they?
  • I’m not in here to make a fucking bet.
  • I’m not fucking buying that.
  • Fuckface, who’s speaking to you?
  • He asked him, didn’t he?
  • Fuckface? I like that one. I’ll have to remember that one next time I’m climbing off your mum.
  • It’s not as if it’s a tin of baked beans1 What do you mean ‘open him up’?
  • It was a rhetorical question.
  • What have I told you about thinking?
  • Get back down or you will not be coming up next time.
  • You’re not going anywhere, you thick lump.
  • You stay until the job’s done.
  • He’s harder than a coffin nail.
  • Have you ever crossed the road and looked the wrong way? A car’s nearly on you. So, what do you do? Something very silly. You freeze. Your life doesn’t flash before you, ‘cause you’re too fuckin’ scared to think. You just freeze and pull a stupid face.
  • Who took the jam outta your doughnut?
  • You took the fucking jam outta my doughnut. You did.
  • I can’t make him fight, can I?
  • You’re not much good to me alive, are you?
  • We’ve lost Gorgeous George.
  • You’re going to have to repeat that.
  • Where’d you lose him? He ain’t a set of fucking car keys, is he?
  • It ain’t as if he’s incon-fucking-spicuous now, is it?
  • You’re on thin fucking ice, my pedigree chums, and I shall be under it when it breaks. Now, fuck off.
  • Do you want to do it?
  • It’s not the same fight.
  • I wasn’t calling your mum a tart.
  • Ah, save your breath for cooling your porridge.
  • Have I made myself clear?
  • Did you understand a single word of what he just said?
  • I’ve helped you as much as I’m going to help you.
  • You should fuck off now while you still got the legs to carry you.
  • Why the fuck do I want a caravan that’s got no fucking wheels?
  • You want to settle this with a fight?
  • Over my dead body!
  • I’ll not have you fighting! You know what happens when you fight.
  • Get her to sit down. For fuck’s sake!
  • I ain’t fucked you.
  • I’ll fight you for it. You and me.
  • Fuck you!
  • Don’t take the piss.
  • I need to have a shite.
  • I fail to recognise the correlation between losing ten grand and a good deal.
  • What the fuck is that?
  • This is a shot gun.
  • It’s a fucking anti-aircraft gun.
  • You’ll raise Hell. Nevermind pulses.
  • He’s been a busy, little bastard.
  • I think you’ve let him get away with enough.
  • It can get you into a lot of trouble, thinking, I shouldn’t do so much of it.
  • You gotta get me to a doctor! Shoot that fuck and then get me to a doctor.
  • For every action, there is a reaction.
  • Pull your tongue out of my arsehole.
  • You have all the characteristics of a dog. Except loyalty.
  • You’re a ruthless, little cunt. I’ll give you that.
  • What the fuck are you two looking at?
  • You are not bringing that thing in here.
  • I will do you a favour. I’ll not get out this car and bash the living fuck out of you in front of all your girlfriends.
  • What the fuck are you doing?
  • I’m driving down the street with your head stuck in my window. What do you thinking I’m doing, you penis?
  • I don’t think I’ll slow down. I think I’ll speed up.
  • You better not be telling me porky pies.
  • Follow me and I’ll fucking shoot you.
  • These lads are out to hurt each other.
  • Calm down, son. Behave yourself.
  • I’ve got the gun, son. I think it’s you who should behave.
  • I’m not telepathic.
  • You’re plenty fucking stupid.
  • Fuck me. Have you been reading?
  • He’s a liability.
  • You are gonna die.
  • He got shot six times.
  • Why don’t you fucking die?
  • Are you sayin’ I can’t shoot?
  • I’m not saying you can’t shoot. I know you can’t shoot.
  • The dog must have ate it.
  • I create the bodies. I don’t erase the bodies.
  • This will get messy.
  • He’s been shot in the face. I would’ve thought that was obvious.
  • It’s just impossible to kill the bastard.
  • I don’t want to put a bullet in your face, but if you don’t give us exactly what we want, there will be fucking murder.
  • Shoot him.
  • Goody gumdrops. Get us a cup of tea.
  • You’re a dead man! You hear me? A fucking dead man.
  • He’s a dangerous bastard.
  • Do you want to shoot him?
  • Do you want to stab him?
  • Do you want to kill him or not?
  • I wasn’t asking. I was telling.

anonymous asked:

ok i think i need to rephrase my question: could you maybe draw some happy Frida doing whatever makes her happy? I don't assume she is grumpy 24/7 or other stuff about her. I was merely saying that you haven't drawn any happy Frida and that I think it'd be awesome to see her relaxed and content. :)

She’s pretty happy when she’s sleeping (Fuckface likes to sleep with her)

 - F

"Do you have any proof?"

This took place in a golf tournament I was playing in a few years ago.

There was a long drive contest on the 18th hole. The way a long drive competition works in a tournament is there is a little marker with a pad of paper on it out in the fairway. If you hit your ball in the fairway past the marker, you sign the paper, and place the marker next to where your ball was. It’s an honor system sort of thing, but then again, that’s golf for you.

I was in the second-to-last group, one of my good friends was in the group behind me. I step up to the tee, tee up, and free the beast all over that golf ball. By some fluke, it ends up drawing down the right side of the fairway. I crushed this thing. Based on yardage left, I hit this ball a little over 330 yards. I had the previous long drive beat by almost 20 yards. I happily signed the marker, and put it next to my ball.

After I finished the hole, I walked off the green, and watched the foursome behind us tee off and play the hole in. You know, waiting for my friend, and to see if anybody beat my drive. Now, the men’s tee box that we were supposed to play from was on the left side of the hole, and the ladies was 40 or so yards up and on the right side of the hole. I saw one of the guys tee up from the ladies tee, hit his drive, walk up, sign the marker, and move it to his ball. That shit ain’t right.

They finish the hole, and my friend comes up to me and confirms my suspicions. This chucklefuck had hit from the ladies tee and taken my long drive. He beat me by two yards. I went up to the asshole, and had this conversation with him.

Me: “Are you really going to take that drive?”

Him: “Yep.”

Me: “That’s cheating, chief. You didn’t win.”

Him: “Do you have any proof?”

Well, fuck. It’s his word against mine. The other guys in his foursome are his friends. My jimmies are at maximum overrustle.

We go to the post-tournament dinner. Sure enough, when they call the long drive winner up, this smug fucknut goes up and collects his (my) $50 Tim Hortons gift card.

Oh, but what’s this? He dropped something when he stood up. It’s his door prize raffle ticket. It’s number 77. Well, I’m just going to take this, you know, for my troubles. I lean over in my chair, and snag it off the floor

An hour later, we’re at the final prize. It’s the door prize draw. The prize? A $1000 MasterCard prepaid gift card. The MC rifles through the drum with the tickets. The universe must have been on my side that day, because the MC pulls out a ticket, and speaks into the microphone.

“The winner of the MasterCard prepaid card is… Ticket 77.”

Asshole McTerribleperson loses his shit. He’s jumping up and down, yelling “I won I won I won ohmygod I won!”

He runs up to the front to the MC, who then asks for the winning ticket. Fuckface sticks his hand in his back pocket. Then his other back pocket. Then the side pockets. His face looks like he just watched his dog just get run over. Repeatedly.

I’m crazy excited at this point, but I make a show of checking my ticket. Then I hold up the ticket and call out,

“I got it!”

I run up to the front, and give it to the MC.

Douchebag McGee isn’t happy about this. He starts yelling about how I stole his ticket and ticket 77 was totally his and I’m a cheater and a liar.

I look him dead in the eyes, and ask him deadpan “do you have any proof?”

He looks like he’s about to cry. The MC sends him to sit down, and I collect the $1000 dollar gift card.

Because I’m the type to salt the wound, as I leave, I walk past his table, and say quietly to him “Enjoy your Tim card. You deserve it.”

Pretty sure he popped a blood vessel. But I didn’t stick around to find out. I had beers to buy for my friends.

Well gentlemen it’s that time again…

Oside Trap Lords #FTW

If you didn’t blow all of your baller ass E-1 to E-3 pay last weekend you for fuck sure are going to do it in the next two days. It’s time to blouse your jeans and go Super Saiyan level twelve in your city. Break out your cammo gear and rock the fucking shit out of it.

And home to a plethora of unknown STDs

I’m sure you were always wondering “Why did my recruiter give me all this fresh to death ass gear?” e.g. clothes, keychains, hats etc. The answer (you undeployed death dealing stud you), is so you can wear that shit out in town so that 1: people will know you are a young servicemember and they won’t be able to take advantage of how naive you are and 2: To ensure you’ll be beating bitches off you with a stick when they see your “Pain is weakness leaving the body/Army of one/Oorah/Hooah in my asshole look at me I’m better and more bad ass than you” extra medium t-shirts.

Be wary; the Geiger Tigers are out of the fucking cage up in this bitch

I am pretty sure that stripper from last weekend likes you a lot by the way she kept smiling at you while you were paying for lap dances so you should probably bring her flowers and chocolates to let her know you are down for a serious relationship. As soon as she gets off work I have no doubt that she will make her way over to your barracks or 40 dollar a night motel room. Have “The Notebook on cue and show her there’s a romantic side behind that steely 1000 yard stare you acquired in bootcamp. 

If you’re in BUD/S shoot over to Orange ave, walk into McPs and call attention on deck then sound off your class number. Nothing bad will happen to you. Women of your choice will have sex with you and everyone will buy you beers and free food. No one will thrash you. And if anyone asks who the fuck you are; rail a line of blow and shout “Back the fuck up, we’re Basically Team Guys!” Then start chanting “B.T.Gs” and pounding your fist on tables. 

If you get yoked up by an NCO/SNCO that doesn’t know you just pretend you are a Lieutenant. Just say “No you will address me as sir, Sergeant, Staff Sergeant/Gunnery Sergeant/ Master Sergeant.” They will probably snap to parade rest and ask no further questions. PFC Fuckface McBootfuck for the win.

Easy ladies, the privates here will be fucking themselves tonight. 

Hit on girls in front of their families. If they turn you down hit on their moms. Never quit and ignore all social cues no matter how awkward things get. After that is done SPEND ALL OF YOUR FUCKING MONEY. Worry about credit after you get out and have no job. You don’t want to bother yourself with nancy shit like that when there is so much fun to be had right now.

And as always, come Monday if your company 1st Sausage has your heels locked up in front of his desk… 

Admit nothing

Deny everything

Make counter accusations 

Now get out there and fucking be somebody 

anonymous asked:

would you say people in canada are tolerant of trans people? because im a trans woman and i want to get the heck out of america but i dont know where to go

Canada’s a country that likes to pride itself on being further than most other countries on LGBTQA+ issues but the acceptance of trans people in this country isn’t as progressive. In general terms though, avoid Saskatchewan and the Yukon but honestly everyone’s doing that anyways. 

One thing to take into consideration is that gender identity is not covered as a prohibited grounds for discrimination under Canadian law. That means that harassment, violence and abuse on the basis of someone’s gender identity is not a hate crime in Canada (while the same forms of discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation, race, etc. ARE considered hate crimes).

I couldn’t find any information online about the prices of hormone treatment in Canada. Gender reassignment surgeries are funded by all Canadian provinces besides New Brunswick and P.E.I (no clue what the prices would be in those provinces). Also you must be 18 or older and have been diagnosed with gender dysphoria before being eligible for surgery. 

Every Class in Every School is a really detailed study about discrimination against LGBTQA+ students in Canadian schools. According to the study, 89.8% of trans youth surveyed said they heard negative gender-based or transphobic comments daily and trans students were twice as likely as other students to be verbally harassed based on their race, ethnicity and religion. 22.5% of trans students also reported hearing negative gender-based or transphobic comments from teachers. 

Honestly I don’t know how this stacks up to the treatment of trans people in the United States. If anyone else can provide information to this person that would be greatly appreciated.