IN FOCUS: Pink Stretch Hummers

Given the expense of renting one of these bad girls, the Pink Stretch Hummer has become synonymous with “bogan black tie” events such as a hen’s party in the Swan Valley or celebrating one’s last day of school at the year 10 ball. Undoubtedly, the Pink Stretch Hummer sets the standard in outer suburban class.

By law, the gaggle of hummettes must pose for a photoshoot in front of the vehicle in a side-on conga line formation. While the post caption will strongly refer to “balling”, “woo” and “for the haterz”, the scene looks rather more like the line for the next Supre model casting gig.

The only thing that guzzles more juice than this grotesque shrine to American excess is the occupants themselves – Yellowglen and mini bottles of Mo-ayyyyy to be exact. In fact, without first obtaining a blood/alcohol reading of at least, “root a bogan in the toilets at Feral Brewery”, the occupant is in breach of their terms & conditions of rental.

A truly curious transformation occurs inside the Hummer, as each individual occupant’s shrill voices combine to form a distressing super noise that can be best described as Fran Drescher impersonating a Hyena on bath salts.

Direct exposure to the noise can cause the males of the species to experience aural castration; as the mere thought of mixing genetics with something capable of making that noise causes their gravy pistols to retreat to a state of dormant disgust.

While the bright pink aesthetics look innocent, the Hummer strikes fear, just as its cousin, the Humvee struck fear into the desert communities of Afghanistan. Winery staff look on in horror as chundering commandos deploy their weapons of yasss-destruction on their soil. No stone is left unturned on their mission to get loose.

Inevitably, the mood inside the Hummer takes a sharp turn for the worst. Screams of joy soon turn into blubbering wails of mindless attention seeking. Before long, bogans who can’t handle their booze are consoling other bogans who can’t handle their booze and literally no emotional progress is made.

After the glitz and glamour fade, all that’s left is a vomit stain on the carpet and an intense 1-star review war on Facebook over the cleaning fee charged upon its return. Like public urination through the soil of a vineyard, so are the days of drunk bogans in Hummers.

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