Deano’s Facebook profile is the digital equivalent of a rusted car graveyard out the front of a repurposed suburban ice-lab. His profile picture is a cropped, zoomed and blurry photo of himself from 10 years ago when he actually had hair but inexplicably still has the same pair of red flame-patterned sunglasses and Ford shirt.
This is the best photo he owns of himself, and it still manages to bear a strong resemblance to Ivan Milat. His other 6 photos are equally as photographically baffling and depict him sitting around a burning 10-gallon drum or playing with a dog in a spiked collar. He attended the School of Hard Knocks and currently works at “nunya business”.
Unsurprisingly, Deano’s online behaviour is pretty bad too. He has an insatiable appetite for offensive memes that he sources from the irritable bowel of social media. His comedy staples are “wrong hole”, “women in kitchen” and “leftist soyboys where tampons”.
Although it’s not all jokes and lols for Deano. In fact, there is a topic he takes very seriously – brands who, he believes deceive him into eating HALAL products. He also hasn’t got over the fact Allen’s changed the names of some of its lollies. He likes to remind these corporate shitcarnts of this every single day. Beats gainful employment.
This naturally leads to Deano to be put in “facebook jail”. He wears each and every one of his bans from Zucc like a badge of pride. Lucky for society, he has about 5 alt accounts that he circulates through so no one will ever miss a whiff of his unabashed social media turdery.
When he is feeling like adding some exotic flavour to his buffet of heinous-posts, he will tag his bogan mates in a “tag someone who” meme, that usually centres around having rooting some ghastly, crack-addled, land-dugong. When he comments on or shares one of his beloved memes, he will type the official catchphrase of the Facebook bogan, “lol”.
When Deano isn’t polluting your feed with moronic cretinry, he is over sharing his vague personal problems with his own brand of monkey-typing incoherency. “yeh yh im the fkwit rigt, if anyone speak to KAreN tell her to GIVE me my SHITBACK!! cant trstu anyone these days, fml lol”.
A few of Deano’s mates often comment and have a discussion in some alien language from the planet Motorplexia, “lol dog cnts be dog cuntiing”, “fk her mtae”, “stp takilnig shit bout my sister DEAN, if u want ur wrench back u can bloddy well pay ur child maintenance payemnets!!! lol”.
Feeling aggrieved that his own failings have once again come back to bite him in his cargo-short-wearing-arse, Deano decides to even the score with his local Hungry Jacks. He posts a photo he took of an atrociously slapped together Bacon Deluxe on their wall,
“bloody hell Hungry Jacks, pull yas fngers out. Been coming to ur Spearwood restraunt for years and dnt apprecit bening traretd like this!!!! came in with me boy and u cant fkn gve a 5 year old somfn that looks like ths!!!! Blood disgrace!!!”
His post clearly resonated with other Facebook bogans and within minutes Hungry Jacks was inundated with messages of support for Deano, “hope your boy got a decent feed after all that darl x”.
Deano, of course, is already 2 minutes away from HJs as he’s worked himself up into such a fury over the shoddily made fast food he decided he’d try to drag someone through the drive through window to pay for the inconvenience.
It’s been a long morning, and Deano has already drunk his “beer fridge” dry. He rummages through his shed and finds an old fishing tackle box filled with rusty treasures. He takes a bloody ordinary photo of it and uploads it to the Perth Beer Economy page.
“Tackle box, used, wanting 4 pack of anything 6% or 6.5%”. He sits back and waits for someone to take his unwanted crap off his hands in exchange for delicious bourbon. He is playing his cards close to his chest and doesn’t want the group members knew that he would probably accept an offer of 3 cans.
Negotiation 101 in the School of Hard Knocks.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?