To prepare for this year’s Manjimup 15000, Belynda bleaches her hair so platinum blonde that if you bottled it you’d have a bogan sucking it down as part of his diet plan.
Her fierce blonde hair is perfectly complemented by a tight Fox racing hoody, leggings, and a Monster Energy cap to remind the younger generation of MotoX hussies she’s still an authority around these parts.
While no longer on the circuit, she still feels the need to assert her dominance by talking endless shit about all the “groupies” who she alleges are only there to try and suck-start a sponsored MotoX boy and upgrade the caravan she came in.
This may seem hypocritical given Belynda’s primary mission at the event is to try and find an upgrade to her baby daddy – Donothan. Who since discovering the joys of a cone in between his morning and brunch sessions is no longer motivated to rev his engine on her old dirt road.
At the start of the first day, Belynda releases her children into the wild. This will be the last of her supervisory responsibilities. As long as she can’t see what the little mulletlings are up to she really doesn’t give a shit.
She has more important things to do. Like smash Jacky D cans and listen to her man cook 4 BBQ’s a day and drone on and on about how he should be out there racing.
Sick of copping the small droplets of spit after each deluded MotoX story she decides to take him down a peg, “do you think the pros drink Export and eat 4 bacon & egg sandwiches for brekkie bub?”
Donothan boldly claims he doesn’t deserve that kind of disrespect and takes his racing helmet with him while he looks for some unlucky saps to corner and cop 30 minutes of his hot takes. May gold help them.
Belynda feels this is the perfect opportunity to lay some groundwork with a rider. Despite the chilly temperatures she braves pulling up her sleeves to display her tattoos to some lucky punter that’s about to cop the full force of Belynda 10 cans deep.
She spots who she thinks is a professional MotoX rider. At least she thinks he is, he was getting a selfie with a group of young girls moments before. That’s gotta be one right?
Accordingly, she wastes no time offering the man a little Kawasucky, “I’ve got a free caravan for about 45 minutes, how about you come and get over my humps big boy?”
He cracks a big grin and agrees. If she’s being honest she thought it would take a little more flirting but it’s just further proof that she’s still got it. She takes her superstar back to the camp and gets down to business.
Back in the caravan, she asks him, “So what team do you ride for?” His smile is far more toothless than she remembered 10 minutes ago, “I don’t”. It starts to dawn on Belynda that she may have snagged a dud, “why were you getting photos with those girls?”
He grins even wider, “I post videos on TikTok of me doing sikkk monos down the wrong direction of major roads ay ahaha, Armadale’s finest ay”.
She checks the time. Her hubby would have only just started fighting people who said he can’t ride so she thinks, fark it, “good enough for me”.
She treats the scaly scofflaw to 15 minutes that he’ll never forget. A shameful memory that will no doubt haunt her mind as she struggles to sleep over her man’s insomnia-inducing snoring later that night.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?