This is a routine I have been working on about things that confuse / bemuse me... Sodoko, high heeled shoes, Angry Australian festival goers. I just typed it up last night and, might use some of it, might not!
I’m not really much of an angry kind of guy, there are not too many things in this world that genuinely, oooooohh, get me writhing in anger, however; I do spend a lot of time feeling bemused, confused and plain amused; sodoko; if you enjoy watching a grown 30 year old man devolve into a baby chimpanzee, try explaining to me how the fuck you do sodoko; numbers, squares in rows must contain different numbers…. (Chimp impression) got any bananas? It became one of the reasons that I broke up with my last girlfriend; she just wouldn’t accept that I could not grasp the concept and became rather bullish in her attempts to teach me the “art” of the sodoko puzzle. Is it any wonder I fucked her off?
A constant source of confusion to me is the popularity of the high heeled shoe amongst the women folk. I understand that the high heel can add a certain accentuation to a lady’s calf which is deemed appealing to many a member of the human race; male and female alike, me included… I hasten to add, and women feel great whilst wearing them if not physically, then mentally. Got it, grasped it; but the logic of donning a pair of shoes that makes walking more than 5 metres, especially whilst drunk, a ridiculously painful, not to mention rather hazardous pursuit really escapes me. I mean, that’s the reason I choose not to roller blade to the pub; I keep that for “special spandex Sunday” down the park, no alcohol in sight, just me and the blades ‘cruising’ (without the man bumming)… but that’s another story…. I’ll save for another time…
I’ll explain the roots of my confusion / amusement, I grew up in a Town called Portsmouth in the UK, a place which at around midnight to 2am on a weekend would ‘magically’ transform itself into a kind of nightmarish dystopian concrete, human version of Jurassic park as uniformly every blond dolly bird out on the raz would magically change form into some kind of drunken velocer raptor impersonator, on the hunt for man meat, or…..as a back up, a kebab!
I guess you’d compare it to Newcastle, or Kings Cross without quite as many prossies /junkies…. All I’m suggesting ladies is save your dignity post midnight by donning flat shoes and whenever you want to flaunt your buff as fuck calf muscles pop your heel up… and Tense!! Give it a try! I’m sure you won’t regret it!
I’ve stopped going to music festivals in Australia also, the only reason I can possibly think of for going is, really, for the purposes of comedy material. I’ve never really enjoyed them. To be honest I walk around those things, the BDO, Homebake, Good vibes, whatever; in a constant state of fucking confusion…. Why are those flouro clad teenage girls drawing definition lines onto to the muscles of that intense looking roidy man? How do stilt walkers make a fucking living? Do they have secondary jobs? Why are there groups of shirtless angry looking men with shit five star tattoos dancing with each other, without a woman in sight? I’m guessing by their furrowed brows and the bad vibes that they’re throwing out that perhaps they are a dance troop made up of nationalistic rather repressed prison gays…. Perhaps they are an off duty rapey league team made up…. Of repressed prison gays….
By way of another specific example, I saw a man at a festival, albeit in WA, which I guess immediately ups the potential twat factor somewhat, with the demanding words; ‘Suck my Cock!!!’ on his back, this is true I have the photo to prove it… He was one of these angry fun type pricks, shit tats pokey little eyes angrily shoulder bumping passers by, including my friend as he danced… to fucking Faker! Amazing! Hard maximum security prison gay! What also amazed me was how wide he had cast the net on his demand, no stipulation as to his preference as to whether man, woman or beast would be his preferred felattio partner, just SUCK MY COCK!!! He might as well put in brackets at the end (Open to anyone, no conditions apply)….
I’ve written a poem to express my true dismay at these human beings…..
It’s called ‘Five Star Twats with Five Star Tatts on Their Backs… Ode to Big Day Out
Take crystal meth, roids and bundy rum
Now they’re about ready for some angry fun.
Pituitary retards showing off their guns
All of them having loads of angry fun
All of them single, living with their mums;
Look at them dance! Wow! ANGRY FUN!
Once again, shirts off dancing with the guys!
Crystal Meth, bundy rum, tiny tiny eyes!
(get in character)
“Look at that brown man, that’s not right!”
“Gonna take him down man ruin his night!”
Spreading messages of hate and misogyny,
Look at all the bees with their tiny knees!
Repressed homosexuals every single one;
Probably going home now for some angry angry bum fun!
I’m not really much of an angry kind of guy, there are not too many things in this world that genuinely, oooooohh, get me writhing in anger, however; I do spend a lot of time feeling bemused, confused and plain amused; sodoko; if you enjoy watching a grown 30 year old man devolve into a baby chimpanzee, try explaining to me how the fuck you do sodoko; numbers, squares in rows must contain different numbers…. (Chimp impression) got any bananas? It became one of the reasons that I broke up with my last girlfriend; she just wouldn’t accept that I could not grasp the concept and became rather bullish in her attempts to teach me the “art” of the sodoko puzzle. Is it any wonder I fucked her off?
A constant source of confusion to me is the popularity of the high heeled shoe amongst the women folk. I understand that the high heel can add a certain accentuation to a lady’s calf which is deemed appealing to many a member of the human race; male and female alike, me included… I hasten to add, and women feel great whilst wearing them if not physically, then mentally. Got it, grasped it; but the logic of donning a pair of shoes that makes walking more than 5 metres, especially whilst drunk, a ridiculously painful, not to mention rather hazardous pursuit really escapes me. I mean, that’s the reason I choose not to roller blade to the pub; I keep that for “special spandex Sunday” down the park, no alcohol in sight, just me and the blades ‘cruising’ (without the man bumming)… but that’s another story…. I’ll save for another time…
I’ll explain the roots of my confusion / amusement, I grew up in a Town called Portsmouth in the UK, a place which at around midnight to 2am on a weekend would ‘magically’ transform itself into a kind of nightmarish dystopian concrete, human version of Jurassic park as uniformly every blond dolly bird out on the raz would magically change form into some kind of drunken velocer raptor impersonator, on the hunt for man meat, or…..as a back up, a kebab!
I guess you’d compare it to Newcastle, or Kings Cross without quite as many prossies /junkies…. All I’m suggesting ladies is save your dignity post midnight by donning flat shoes and whenever you want to flaunt your buff as fuck calf muscles pop your heel up… and Tense!! Give it a try! I’m sure you won’t regret it!
I’ve stopped going to music festivals in Australia also, the only reason I can possibly think of for going is, really, for the purposes of comedy material. I’ve never really enjoyed them. To be honest I walk around those things, the BDO, Homebake, Good vibes, whatever; in a constant state of fucking confusion…. Why are those flouro clad teenage girls drawing definition lines onto to the muscles of that intense looking roidy man? How do stilt walkers make a fucking living? Do they have secondary jobs? Why are there groups of shirtless angry looking men with shit five star tattoos dancing with each other, without a woman in sight? I’m guessing by their furrowed brows and the bad vibes that they’re throwing out that perhaps they are a dance troop made up of nationalistic rather repressed prison gays…. Perhaps they are an off duty rapey league team made up…. Of repressed prison gays….
By way of another specific example, I saw a man at a festival, albeit in WA, which I guess immediately ups the potential twat factor somewhat, with the demanding words; ‘Suck my Cock!!!’ on his back, this is true I have the photo to prove it… He was one of these angry fun type pricks, shit tats pokey little eyes angrily shoulder bumping passers by, including my friend as he danced… to fucking Faker! Amazing! Hard maximum security prison gay! What also amazed me was how wide he had cast the net on his demand, no stipulation as to his preference as to whether man, woman or beast would be his preferred felattio partner, just SUCK MY COCK!!! He might as well put in brackets at the end (Open to anyone, no conditions apply)….
I’ve written a poem to express my true dismay at these human beings…..
It’s called ‘Five Star Twats with Five Star Tatts on Their Backs… Ode to Big Day Out
Take crystal meth, roids and bundy rum
Now they’re about ready for some angry fun.
Pituitary retards showing off their guns
All of them having loads of angry fun
All of them single, living with their mums;
Look at them dance! Wow! ANGRY FUN!
Once again, shirts off dancing with the guys!
Crystal Meth, bundy rum, tiny tiny eyes!
(get in character)
“Look at that brown man, that’s not right!”
“Gonna take him down man ruin his night!”
Spreading messages of hate and misogyny,
Look at all the bees with their tiny knees!
Repressed homosexuals every single one;
Probably going home now for some angry angry bum fun!
i stopped going for the exact same reason, why are these brick layers so blooody angry.
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