What the fuck are you looking at?
Well, you’re looking at a man. A man who just hooked up a job on the mines. A man who is waiting on the results of a piss test but has well & truly passed the make-you-piss-test with flying fucking colours.
Think he won’t? Well consider yourself a 1999 Discman ‘cos he’ll make you skip cunt. In fact, you’ll be playing hopscotch while he slides those bad boys to the back of his neck and punches on like a youth at Cockburn Central.
We know what you must be thinking, in the game of milk crate kingdoms, how did one man claim the throne? How was royalty ordained? How did that dropkick who sleeps on your step-mum’s couch after impregnating your sister for the 5th time this year afford $200 sunnies when he’s been unemployed for 18 months?
Good question, maybe he helped a Baldivis cousin set up a little grow operation, or perhaps he rammed that Hilux you reported stolen through a Rockingham deli window? Or fuck, maybe he just stolen a puppy from Swanbourne and thought a $2k dog on the Armadale buy & sell pages wouldn’t raise suspicion?
The possibilities are endless but it’s safe to say he doesn’t give a shit what you think. When his own future doesn’t seem so bright he just switches it up and wears em on his head. The boom-town crown. Bow before him.
Don’t think you have to? Well, guess again fucko, because he’s a one man union, and he’s ready to strike you. He’s a Swan Taxi’s GPS and he’s ready to sink you. He’s McGowan’s environmental policy, and he’s ready to frack you. He’s Midland, and he’s ready to dog you.
You get the picture.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?
or PayPal if you want