Mr Hack on Triple J

Jack has a smug face that only a boxing glove could love. He Vespas around with a faux-intellectualism that is as phoney as the clear prescriptionless lenses in his fuck-framed glasses. Oh, and he loves Hack on Triple J.

Jack would love you to believe he is a well-read scholar with a nuanced opinion on absolutely anything. Alas, he is merely an unemployed ECU student that listens to Hack every weeknight to inform his woke takes. 

To say he took Tom Tilley’s resignation from the show poorly would be an understatement. He had a little dream, him, Tilley, a bottle of wine and a long night of superficial analysis of huge issues. Sadly, all 200 messages he sent to Tom Tilley were left on seen. Playing hard to get Tom. 

However, it should be noted that 200 is a rookie number compared to how many times he’s called up the program trying to get on. He’s yet to succeed but that wont stop him calling him every single day it’s on. Commitment, Jack. 

Well, it’s Wednesday morning, and the pungent stank of smugness has wafted through Facebook. Jack has formed some strong opinions about the Government’s proposal to track our phones to ensure social distancing protocol is adhered to. 

His PhD thesis, um, FB status, begins with a gentle tickling of his intellectual wiles. He summarises the predicament just in case you mouth breathing cuntlopods couldn’t grasp it.

To rev his engine harder he busts out a quick Google about Australian surveillance law and liberally abuses the copy & paste function. Things are getting hot and heavy.

Finally, he explodes into a quivering heap after paraphrasing what he reckons Orwell was getting at – “all social distancing enforcement policy was created equal but some more equal than others“. God, you just got educated. 

Fuck yeh, boom, the pivotal status of his generation. Give this man a podcast! He is so chuffed with himself he almost buys another flat white. Which would make his ratio of coffees purchased to hours of free Wi-Fi an astounding 2:5.

Actually, nah, the cafe is lucky to have one of Perth’s most profound minds leeching their internet. He spends the next hour writing follow up PhD’s in the comments and arguing with acquaintances from high school.

Finally, he scoots away to catch up with Simone, a girl who has “fuck ScoMo” tattooed to her forearm. “Omg, have you sent that status to Hack?”

Does a potential pope shit in the Supreme Court toilets? 

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