Mr “Go Fund Me”

As the age of entitlement dawns, Troy squarks the loudest for his share of the unearned feed. For 24 years, Troy suckled on the plentiful teat of his absentee father. Alas, he could never wipe the privileged milk from his face, and eventually, every employer grew intolerant.

If hard work be the Snickers Bar of life, then Troy carried on like one of those peanut kids. So he decided he had a passion for photography and decided to travel around Australia while updating his photo blog.

Only problem was that his father had cut him off after trashing the family manor in a 4-day bender. Suddenly he was struck with a lightning bolt of cuntspiration: he would take his parasitic leech-ery to the next level. Crowdsourcing.

Troy knew that “his truth” may not mesh with a more objective definition of truth, so honesty wasn’t going to be the best policy to convince people to chip in. So he resorted to the self-serving art of manipulation.

Allegedly, his campervan fiesta was a journey to photograph the disenfranchised communities of Australia. His friends had their doubts, but nevertheless, they chipped in, and Troy raised an infuriating $5000. He was off like discounted milk.

3 months into his journey, Troy hadn’t uploaded a single photo and had exhausted his funds in the pursuit of getting his hand up backpacker’s skirts. He turned his bullshit levels from “drunk driver at a booze bus” to “priest at a royal commission”:

“Friends, you may have noticed that I haven’t uploaded any photos yet. Sadly, in my attempt to raise awareness of poverty I have been the victim of theft!!! $8000 worth of camera equipment, an i-Pad and 10GB of photos all stolen 🙁 I ask for your help again, photography and helping poor people is my life guys, help!”

The cracks in his story were gaping like a bent over plumber. No one had ever seen him with such camera equipment, and his constant check-ins at popular surf spots kinda gave it away. He’d finally misjudged the fibre in his lying turdery and left a grubby stain on his reputation.

His friends began calling him out in a tremendous public spectacle. Every mate and his dog were airing their disbelief that Troy still had his dishonest hand out. He remained defiant and stuck to his implausible story until he’d pissed everyone off.

If lies make baby Jesus cry, then JC would be going off like a drunk chick at the receiving end of a Bumble rejection.