Urgh…is there anything worse than waking up in the morning after a night spent rectally inserting bennies and dancing to AKB48? The only thing that stings more than a pounding hangover is the never-ending parade of memories birthed from the regretful decisions made the night before. Your conscience is yelling over and over “YA BLEW IT, KID!” like a streetwise reporter in a ’30s screwball farce. These are just a few tidbits from my ‘diary of woopsies’, hopefully you can use it to navigate the grogan maelstrom that is life.
RUBBING A CRYSTAL SKULL AND WAKING UP AS JAMIE LEE CURTIS
This happened to a close friend of mine who had spent the night huffing glue and drinking Emu Bitter. He stumbled into one of those oriental sorcery shop that line William Street in Northbridge and bought a Crystal Skull because mistakenly believing it was that dinky vodka that Dan Aykroyd has been selling to pay for Ghostbusters 3D, but yeah, it actually turned out to be a cursed crystal skull, and he rubbed it and spat on it and put it under his pillow (exactly what the old Balinese man said NOT to do) and lo! He woke up the next morning in a big house in L.A as Jamie Lee Curtis, surrounded by posters and props from True Lies. It was a rough trip, but he said at least it taught him to appreciate the things Jamie Lee Curtis has to put up with, and vice-versa.
POSTING DICK PICS TO YOUR LOCAL PAPER’S FACEBOOK PAGE BECAUSE THEIR MASTHEAD WAS ‘WELL BEGGING FOR IT’
Sometimes drinking banana daiquiris can bring out a latent love for font and typography. There’s nothing worse than walking home at 3am all woe heavy with worldly guff, only to pick up the local paper and think “fuck that masthead is the most fuckable thing I’ve seen all night”, and then proceed to take naughty pics of yourself and post them on said paper’s Facebook page. Worst yet, you’re going to spend the next morning hungover and on local radio defending yourself.
ADVOCATING EUGENICS
“I’m just saying, I fucking hate South Africans!”
KARE-LOKI
This was happening a lot after that doggerel billion dollar cartoon Avengers movie came out. Sickly Tumblr nerds who spend their days looking like a mesh of KD Lang and a school shooter’s diary entries were suddenly walking around Perth dressed like Loki, the old norse god of mischief turned lame comicbookmovie villain. THING IS there is nothing more embarrassing than having someone burst into your drunken night of karaoke to shout “I AM LOKI GOD OF KARAOKI AND I DEMAND WE DANCE TO THE THEME FROM SPEED RACER” following it up with a skimpi-costume change ala Sailor Moon intro. Everyone will wake up to regret to this but the Kare-Loki themselves.
GOING TO SEE A ZINE LAUNCH WHERE THE RINGO OF TAME IMPALA IS PLAYING BAD BAD BAD MUSIC
Ever been to a ‘zine-launch’? No? You lucky fuck! The only thing that can make a sad thing sadder is to have the dud from Tame Impala (I think he is their kazoo-ist?) up on stage playing bore-shit riffs on his expensive guitar, dinking away at loop-pedals and piss-poor melodies through a collage of turd thoughts that scream “I’m too moronic to know these are bad ideas”. You’ll wake up wondering why he can get away with it, and you can’t.
“RED CORDIAL AND VODKA, SO WORTH IT!”
The people who made Finlandia Vodka need to be catapulted into Siberia (circa 1948). When I was 19, I was convinced that mixing cheap vodka with cheap red cordial would create a kinda “uppers and downers effect” that would ensure a balanced and steady going night. I was so wrong. Every party where I drank this swill (yeah, it was more than once) I went on batshit manic rampages that had me climbing up scaffolding and acting like I was in a bath-house in Algiers.
ALIENATING YOURSELF FROM THE LESBIAN COMMUNITY
Party + uninvited + grey-goose + banging your head repeatedly with the door of the host’s kitchen cabinet + saying everyone looks like frankfurter sausages = no friends.
TELLING A STICKER ARTIST YOU THINK THEY ARE ‘SWANK’
You know that scene in animated classic We’re Back where the little girl voiced by Yeardley Smith (Lisa Simpson) tells the main kid that his dinosaur friends are ‘swank’? Of course you do. Anyway, there’s nothing worse than waking up and realising that you’ve said this to a sticker artists. These guys are so rank with cunny and self-importance that you should do nothing to boost their self-esteem or approve their lifestyle choices. Now they’re gonna think putting up a 3 inch sticker of Mouse from CatDog on the back of a stop sign takes some kinda balls, and that sticker art isn’t for puerile cowards too scared to do real graffiti, fuck! YOUR LIFE IS RUINED!
How I could go on! But yeah, be careful out there kids. Remember to take your “forget-me-nows” eight hours after the embarrassing event so you don’t get stuck in a roofie circle.
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