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Mr Bali Bongo Drums

Dylan trawls through Tinder with balls bluer than the Cookie Monster after a hot shot of smack.

After matching with an alluring Tindress, he skips the dance of the softcock and goes in harder than an Italian stallion on the Metros’ dancefloor, “you, me, Bali, let’s go?”

6 hours later they are bonding over Bintangs on a beach in Bali. Life is good, but Dylan has an itch that can’t be scratched by mere booze and digit-orientated lust.

So, like Cuntrick Lamar, he fills a swimming pool fulla mushrooms, and he dives in it.

Psilocybin powers him up like Mario dodging bullets of responsibility in a castle of distorted reality. Life becomes a colourful bowl of penne ao fungi, and much like Dylan, it is cooked al dente.

Life is great, but like the blooming toadstool he is, Dylan decides he needs to make like a spore and be gone in the wind.

Luck is on his side as he pulls off one of the greatest plays in cooked history: managing to book a ticket to Thailand to continue being a fun-guy.

Perhaps it was the bats that spooked him, perhaps he forgot how to use his phone, either way, Dylan never informed his friends and family of his little trip extension.

Have you ever Yolo’d so hard that you caused an international search? No? Then lift your game.

You can turn your back on Perth, but you should never turn your back on a mushroom, and in the land of discrete Adam’s Apples, a hallucinogen can be risky. Survival kicks in, and he heads for the beach.

His next step is what any reasonable man would do after consuming more mushies than a vegetarian with an iron deficiency: he buys a bongo drum.

He belts that drum like he was a Freo Docker in a kebab shop. Liberated from the shackles of life by the beat of his own drum.

Well, the shroom-cocoon was penetrated by rudderless moon-unit who recognised him from the international search. “Mate, like, New Zealand and Australia are looking for you dude”

Oh right. Shit.

Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?

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