Stereosonics is unquestionably the biggest event on the insta-hoe calendar. The Claremont Showgrounds will transform into a thriving ecosystem of cooked peacocks gurning harder than the cookie monster with a concussion.
For the past 3 weeks, Caycee has shaken and poured every meal shes had. Her rigorous shredding-regime has left her hip bones protruding so much, that a guy going down on her must feel like he’s coming face to face with an unmasked Predator. The other important aspect to her Stereos prep is Oompaloompa’ing the shit out of herself by carpet bombing her rig with fake tan.
In Caycee’s mind, only ratchetettes go to Stereos once. Accordingly, Caycee has purchased tickets to both Perth and Melbourne’s festival and decides to let the world know about her unadulterated sickbitchery via an Instagram post of her two tickets, “Once so isn’t enough #stereosonic2015 #stereosislife #djsavedmylife #festivalseason #friends #perthandmelbourne #backtoback #keepup”
On the day, Caycee dresses like she’s about to be awarded an Instagrammy for best cleavage and supporting bra award. Her little denim shorts expose half her peachy bum while her midriff is proudly showing off those Isa-abs. Her angelic white crop top proudly displays her Thai plastic surgeon’s handiwork and will send devilish thoughts into the minds of tribal-tatted meal preppers.
Before heading to Claremont, Caycee gets Botanica’d like a pleb that snuck into the Brera VIP section. The Smirnoff bag she destroyed is causing her to pork-chop around in the line. Her obtuse behaviour draws unwanted attention and a copper with a snitcha-doodle start making their way over. She has no option, but to bomb her two pingas and wait patiently for the mess to unfold.
Safe from prosecution, Caycee runs, rolls and hag-cackles her way around the festival. High as Sheen is positive, she runs into an adonic-jizz rag who eye fucks himself in her gym’s mirror. She knows he has 5000 followers on Instagram and asks him to take a selfie of them both. Alas, Lord #Gainz isn’t convinced, he can probably get a way hotter girl, and wouldn’t want this slurry thinking she’s worthy of his awe-inspiring Instagram account.
Her insta-hoe senses go off, and she senses his reluctance, so she does what any good “social influencer” does, drags him off to a portable toilet and does her best to blow the steroids out of his shrivelled peen. WORTH IT, he uploads a photo of the pair, “with my homegirl at Stereos #mirin #shirtsoffforthegirls #ripped #music #lifeisbeautiful #iamhot #turnt. She heads off to roll on the ground some more and yell into the ears of her buckled mates.
She wakes up with the sorest of jaws and begins checking her ‘Gram and Facebook for the photos she’s been tagged in. All the photos before the portable toilet fellatio are great, but the ones after, well, she can’t even.
Seems that Mr #legsday had spilt some of his protein shake on her denim shorts. 100’s of photos of her looking like the tea towel under a 14-year-olds bed. Even the most prized shot of her on someone shoulders being ultra-sick is tainted by the stain of shame.
Oh, the horror.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?
