Tuesday 16 June 2020

The Final Rant

This will be the last time SJ Smith puts pen to paper. He is a character I have been playing for several years and has served his purpose, but the time has come for him to be killed off. SJ exists in a world I can no longer stand to be a part of; the social media bubble.

More and more people are saying that Facebook and, to a lesser extent, Twitter have become toxic, and I find myself in full agreement. No one thinks twice about spewing vitriol at anyone who disagrees with their opinion, and I have removed the SJ presence from both platforms following a particularly nasty altercation last week.

I made a comment about the hot potato of the transgender world. I didn’t actually say anything derogatory about transgender folk, but that didn’t matter one jot. Ultimately, I have been sacked by the publisher that carried the bulk of SJ’s works. Now, I’m not going to make out this is some freedom of speech violation, because it isn’t. I said what I said and I’m not in prison. The publisher pays the bills and owns the company, and it is her decision what she does and doesn’t publish. I respect her decision to no longer produce my works, and will remain grateful for everything she has done for me. However, I do not respect the patronising and insulting remarks fired in my direction, which I will return to later.

This is going to be a lengthy rant, so strap in.

Groovy Fuckers

As this rant develops, I will be using one or two labels I have invented to describe certain groups of people. The first of these is ‘Groovy Fuckers’, a term borrowed from Jools Holland, which refers to those who inhabit Facebook and believe themselves beyond reproach. Groovy Fuckers typically live in a social media landscape which renders their entire universe an extension of a student union bar at a university, allowing them to exist perpetually as right-on eighteen-year olds. No descent is permitted in the world of the Groovy Fucker.

The other term I invented is ‘Inverted Bigot’. Inverted Bigotry occurs when a person uses methods akin to that of a jack-booted bully boy to attack other social media users. Screaming abuse, wishing of harm and even death threats are all weapons in the arsenal of the inverted bigot, who inevitably believes they hold the moral high ground because they are a Groovy Fucker.

The Big Argument

The big argument occurred after a Facebook comment I made regarding the transgender debate. For the record, my opinion on transgender people is this; I don’t care. If Bobby wants to become a woman then that’s up to him. It’s none of my business. Good luck to him/her – I have no desire to interfere in his/her life. But – and this is the crux of the matter – I would appreciate it if the same courtesy were extended to me. Don’t interfere in my life either, thank you very much.

However, someone, and the more I think about it, the more I start to suspect it’s not actually Bobby at the heart of it, but rather the circle of Groovy Fuckers that surrounds him/her, wants to change the rest of us too. They want to invent new labels to place on us, force upon us their Groovy ideas of what constitutes gender, and – best of all – some Groovies want every single one of us to live in a gender free world. Wouldn’t that just be so. . . Groovy. If only we could shed our sex as easily as our underpants, and identify with whichever gender we felt like when we got up in the morning. Wowser.

A Gender Fluid World

My problems with this are twofold. Firstly, it’s bollocks. Gender wasn’t invented by some evil dictator to make Bobby feel bad about him/herself. Gender has developed over four billion years of evolution as part of nature. Secondly, I foresee it as an unworkable nonsense. Several people have chimed in with the ‘What about women’s changing rooms?’ argument, which Groovy Fuckers dismiss as TERF (whatever that means) rubbish. Perhaps they have more faith in the human race than I do, but can just imagine that, given half a chance, every unscrupulous character in existence would be using gender fluidity as a convenient excuse for wrongdoing, as it would give them unlimited access to the vulnerable. Jimmy Saville didn’t do work for children’s charity because he was concerned about kids’ welfare, he did it so he could get inside kid’s homes and hospitals. A predator is predatory and doesn’t need any extra opportunities handed their way.

When I raised this point, I was treated to a patronising lecture, delivered straight from the Groovy Manifesto. “Actually, no one is pushing for a gender free world, because they know people aren’t ready for it.”

This was what really got my hackles up. We aren’t ready for it.

Us Neanderthal Non-Groovy types just aren’t equipped for total Grooviness because our brains haven’t yet developed enough to deal with it. We’re way too stupid to have thought about the issue, to have weighed up the pros and cons, and drawn a conclusion of our own.

Everything went ballistic after that. The Groovy Fuckers formed their hit squad and came at me one after the other, calling me, amongst other things, a homosexual and a child abuser. Inverted Bigotry at its rawest. One woman blasted onto my timeline screaming FUCK YOU. I responded by opining she was a cunt, as I am nothing if not equal opportunities when it comes to arguing. Hilariously, one Groovy Fucker reverted immediately to old fashioned chivalry; Sir, how dare you offend a lady? I challenge you to a duel.

The Harry Potter Woman

There are several prominent people who have publicly questioned the idea of the gender free society, most notably JK Rowling. As a female and a feminist, one might consider her worthy of a seat at the Groovy table, but unfortunately for her she now falls into a sub category of Grooviness called a Pis-Groove; someone who is no longer identified as Groovy because they pissed off the Groovy community by having an opinion which differed from theirs. As a Pis-Groove, JK has opened herself up to frequent attacks from Inverted Bigots, who regularly scream abuse in her face and even talk about burning her books. Now, I’m not going to draw the parallel between book burning and far-right extremism. I’ll leave that to your own imagination.

As a side note, I was hoping that disgruntled Groovies might start burning the books of SJ Smith, but as there are so few copies in circulation, they wouldn’t provide enough kindling to ignite a small barbecue.

Final Thoughts

So there we have it. The final rant. If you’ve read this far, then congratulations to you. You may notice I haven’t said anything derogatory about trans folk, but as a Groovy Fucker you’ll likely stick your fingers in your ears, completely reinvent what I’ve written and go tell your chums I’m a fascist. That’s up to you. I no longer care.

The point is, while I haven’t attacked trans people at all, I have attacked you: The Groovy Fucker: The self-appointed guardian of public morals who scrolls through Facebook looking for things to be offended by: Who thinks they know what’s best and show nothing but contempt for those who disagree: Who has turned social media from a place to communicate to a place to foam at the mouth and hurl abuse.

And in the end, that’s what really offends you, isn’t it? You take yourself so seriously that if anyone has the audacity to argue with or mock you, you go fucking apoplectic.

Here Lies SJ Smith. Died 2020. Former writer, tragically crushed to death beneath a massive pile of bullshit.

Wednesday 15 April 2020

Choose Your Own Adventure

If you’re of a certain age you’ll no doubt remember a range of books entitled ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’. They were pretty shit.

The premise was you had a basic story, and were offered choices as to what to do next. If you want to do so and so, turn to page forty-eight, or if you’d rather do such and such, turn to page one hundred and twenty. Inevitably you made the wrong choice and died, but provided you kept your finger on the page you’d arrived from, you could always go back and try again.

So, as it’s lockdown and I’m bored, I’ve had a go at recreating this writing style. It probably won’t work, but there you go. Hey ho. If you get stuck, just use the back button. 

The Tale of the Bobby Dangler

It’s a lovely day. The sun is shining and the skies are blue. You decide you’re going to put your shorts on and get a bit of colour on the old pins. But when you dig them out from the bottom of the drawer you realise you must have put a bit of weight on since last summer. The shorts are somewhat snug and on the revealing side.

Nonetheless you head out toward town, intent in calling in the bookies and stopping by the off license on the way back.

Half way up the high street disaster strikes. You slip on a banana skin and do the splits. As your legs divide to their widest axis, your knob falls out the leg of your shorts.

A woman standing outside Greggs witnesses everything, and acts quickly to take a photograph of your dangling willy. With an evil grin she announces her intent to blackmail you; if you don’t immediately go around and fix her chicken coop, she’s going to put the picture up on Facebook.

Over to you. Do you:

Go Fix the Chicken Coop

Wednesday 1 April 2020

Wank for Victory

As the Covid 19 crisis deepens, the government have today implored Brits to stay at home and masturbate in a bid to support the NHS. 

Using new emergency powers granted by a late-night parliamentary debate, the Ministry of Rudeness has announced drastic changes to the TV schedules in a bid to give the nation all the ammunition it needs for a long-haul wank session. Highlights include:


Sunday 18:00             Countryfile.
John Craven goes Dogging.

Monday 19:30             Bake Off
Paul Hollywood gives Mary Berry a cream pie.

Tuesday 20:00            Dad’s Army
Godfrey tea-bags Private Fraser. Corporal Jones repeatedly shouts “They don’t like it up ‘em”, while anally penetrating the vicar.

Wednesday 19:30       Eastenders
Ethel catches Nasty Nick having a wank, and blackmails him into a menage a trois with herself and Dr Legg. Pete Beale does the glory hole in the Queen Vic toilets.

Friday 15:00                Jackanory
Idris Elba reads the unabridged novelisation of Two Girls, One Cup

Saturday 20:00            Casualty
Charlie gives Kuba an enema.


Monday 10:30             This Morning
Holly and Phil enjoy a bukkake session with the household cavalry.

Wednesday 13:00       Very Loose Women
The Nolan Sisters are in the mood for lezzing off.
New Feature: Janet Street-Porter’s Shortest Daughter’s Water-Sports Court Report. In a blatant act of nepotism, Janet’s least tall female offspring gets the job presenting a behind the scenes commentary, live from the debating chamber where her toothsome mother urinates on feuding neighbours.

Thursday 16:00           The Chase
Bradley Walsh chases after Mark Labett and rapes him.

Friday 16:30                Blockbusters
A trio of horny teens have a pee on Bob Holness.

Saturday 19:30            Coronation Street
Hilda Ogden is surprised when Ken Barlow invites her round for a session of auto-erotic asphyxiation.

Saturday 21 March 2020

Covid 19 Announcement

The Minister of Rudeness has today announced a raft of measures aimed at easing suffering during the Covid 19 pandemic. “With our nation socially isolating and working from home, we are experiencing an unprecedented ten-fold rise in masturbation,” Sir Nigel Tits told a packed press conference. “That’s why we in the government have worked closely with mainstream broadcasters to ensure the British public receive all the help they need to get them through the Corona virus crisis. We have put together a package which will bring hand relief to all, no matter their age, gender or sexual orientation”.

Sir Nigel then unveiled his new daytime TV schedules, which are likely to cause raised eyebrows in some quarters.


8:30 Daybreak
Suzanne Reid blushes and coyly smiles while Piers Morgan has a loud and belligerent wank.

10:30 This Morning
Gino de Campo cooks a selection of tasty Italian treats and shoves them up Phillip Schofield’s anus. Meanwhile, Holly Willoughby discusses feminism and women’s issues while skipping.

12:30 Very Loose Women
The girls get naked and experiment with lesbian frottage. Meanwhile, Janet Street-Porter hosts a new segment entitled ‘Street-Porter’s Water Sports Court’, in which she makes final rulings on community disputes, then pisses on the losers.

7:30 Coronation Street
Les Battersbee becomes embroiled in the shady world of BDSM


6:30 Breakfast
Bill Turnbull blushes and coyly smiles while Loise Minchin has a loud and belligerent wank.

10:30  Celebrity Lesbian SOS
Tommy Walsh goes to the aid of a group of celebrity lesbians who have become entangled after experimenting with frottage.

1:00 News at One
Fiona Bruce reads the lunchtime headlines, with her tits out.

6:00  Evening News
Laura Kunesburgh brings us all the latest propaganda from Tory HQ, while being sodomised by a gorilla.

7:30 Eastenders
Dirty Den gives Ange one up the wrong 'un. Meanwhile, Arthur must make the difficult choice between stealing the Christmas club money and getting spit roasted by Lofty Holloway and Mr Wilmott-Brown

Channel 4

3:30 Countdown
Rachel Riley shouts the answers to quite difficult sums while being gangbanged by Palestinians.

4:30  Deal or Cock
Fifteen intrepid contestants take it in turn to open a series of red boxes, not knowing which one Noel Edmunds has stuck his cock in.

Wednesday 18 September 2019

Lion Tattoo

We’re watching this documentary on an obscure channel. You know the sort of thing, a pretence of quality journalism but really it’s just lets all point and laugh at the freaks. This one’s all about extreme body art, folk who cover themselves in tattoos and go under the surgeon’s knife to transform various bits of their anatomies. Devil horns, forked tongues, the lot. Not my cup of tea, but she loves it.

Gets to this one guy who’s gone seriously over the top. He’s had an operation to get his entire body removed, leaving him as just a mouth and a tattoo of the word ‘cock’. The interviewer asks if his decision to alter himself so radically has affected his ability to find a job. “Actually, it’s helped,” he replies. “I work as a model for an online alternative fashion brand and I go to all the big body art conferences.”

I’ve seen enough. I head outside for some fresh air and a cigarette. God damn it. Next door’s pet fucking lion is taking a massive shit down by the shed. Bastard thing. Three times last week I had to clean up steaming great piles. It’s not right people think they can just let their animals crap all over other people’s property. “Oi, fuck off,” I shout as I throw a stone at it.

The lion growls and starts prowling closer toward me. Fucking nerve of the thing. That’s when I notice its bloody owner over the back hedge, a woman who’s always wearing a dressing gown and never without a fag dangling from her mouth. She’s hanging washing on the line, oblivious to the fact her pet is in my garden acting like a cunt.

“Hey,” I yell. “Get this flea-bitten fucking thing away from me or it’ll be going in a bag and getting dumped in the river.”

She raises a scornful eyebrow. “Fuck off. It’s not flea-bitten. It’s a noble beast.”

“Noble beast my fucking arse.”

She gives me the finger, then saunters off back inside. Bitch. She’s never had a job. How she can afford to smoke forty a day and keep a pet lion is beyond me.

Monday 22 April 2019

Random Nonsense #423

“Do you know Jeremy Gaylord?”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head.

“Oh, he’s a complete prick. Everyone takes the piss because of his surname, so he goes out of his way to prove how staunchly straight he is. Keeps on sexually harassing women in shops. Last week the girl from the butchers found him lying bollock naked on a display of award-winning sausages, sporting a massive erection and inviting her to come check out his meaty banger.”


“Exactly. She phoned the police. Jeremy scarpered, but the sniffer dogs found him in record time. He’s a total arse. God knows why he thinks he’s God’s gift to women, what with that huge, fat arse and that revolting gummy smile. He’s got less teeth than Timothy Leary.”

“Did he not have any teeth?”

“No, they all dropped out.”

Thursday 7 February 2019

Exciting Half Price Offer

In yet another calamitous financial miscalculation, I last year decided to invest heavily to produce my first ever official calendar. With twelve themed, highly erotic photographs of myself hanging on the kitchen wall of every housewife in the land, the SJ Smith Calendar 2019 would bolster my brand and bring in some much-needed readies. It worked for the woman in that Helen Mirren movie, so why, I reasoned, should it not work for me?

Unfortunately, the Official SJ Smith Calendar 2019 proved to be the only publication released in 2018 to shift less units than my novel Return to the House of fox, and now, with the new year well and truly upon us, I am not only skint, but my home is packed to the rafters with boxes full of unsold copies and I don’t have enough room to swing my cock around.

I have therefore decided to place the calendar on half price sale, hoping to scrape back some cash and free up my living room.

The calendar is beautifully printed on recycled man-sized tissues, and features twelve tasteful nudes. The highlights include:

  •          Mr January - SJ Smith shovelling winter snow, with his knob out.
  •          Mr July – SJ Smith sniffing a bouquet of fragrant blooms, with his knob out.
  •          Mr October – SJ Smith dressed as a spooky ghost, with his knob out.
  •          Mr December – SJ Smith hanging baubles and eating a mince pie. With his knob out.

You can get your half-priced copy of the Official SJ Smith Calendar 2019 by rooting right to the bottom of the bargain bin in your local pound shop. Or if you’d prefer to receive it for free, then simply wait until March, when I will be fly-tipping the whole lot in the layby near the roundabout.