May I have this dance? NO!

Dance the night away. NO! I can’t dance, in the words of the great Charlie Brooker, “I look like a frightened horse on a frozen lake.”  

The world is full of people who literally cannot enjoy themselves at a party, or wedding, or in a club, unless YOU dance more or less at the same time, and in the same vicinity that they do their dancing in. Why do some people refuse to accept the fact that certain other people, me, do not want to dance. They’ll say things like, “Come on, you know you want to have a dance”. My response to this is always, “No. I really don’t want to dance. I know my own feelings better than you do…..*murmur*…shithead!”

A particularly horrific experience happened to me a few years ago. I was in a nightclub in Adelaide, Australia. I went there for no good reason. I hadn't been out in a long time, and I stupidly thought that I could have the ladies flocking around me, and that I could pick and choose which ones I wanted to, uuhhm, “play hospitals” with.

I did not succeed with the ladies that night. Not one single thing that happened that night could be described as successful. First of all, a quite drunk girl took a shine to me, and insisted that I dance with her. I knew full well that if I danced provocatively and sensually with this girl, I would have given myself a very good chance of “playing hospitals” with her later that night. But, through sheer willpower and self-assurance, I refused to dance with her.

I could very strongly sense that my refusal to dance with an attractive girl was something that had never been done in this particular establishment. A few moments passed, and a small semi-circle had formed around this girl and me. The guys around us were saying, “Go on you pussy, grind on her you c@#t.” The girls around us however, seemed a lot more understanding, and even though a few of them were encouraging me to get up and dance, most of them stood there just watching on with looks of despair and pity – which I preferred!

I did not end up dancing with this girl, I had to leave the nightclub and I ended up walking home. I did a lot of thinking on the way home, sorry, I mean, I did a lot of drinking. It helped with the embarrassment quite well.

To this day I have never danced with a woman. I have however been relatively quite successful with the opposite sex. So, this means that dancing, no matter how appealing women find it, is NOT necessary to attract interest.

One of Bill Hicks’ funniest jokes, in my opinion, is the following, “You know, women say they love a man who can dance. But if a man is out on the dance floor grooving to the music and letting all his emotions out, what does it matter, ladies? He’s gay! You've got no chance.”          

Nightclubs. Don't Go. Just Don't. Stay at Home, Read a Book or Something.

We've all been there, done that.

I recently spoke with a man who had a very interesting and terrifying story. His story involves a nightclub, and what happened to him in and around the nightclub.

I've tried my best to retell his story as accurately as possible.

Here it is.......

"Nightclubs, right...........

A bunch of semi-drunk, blonde bombshells, all decked to the nines, assaulted me and the passenger in my car. It was a Friday night, and we were driving through the city of Adelaide to get home. The four or five ladies flagged us down, got us to stop our car and then dragged us out onto the streets. They didn't beat us or anything like that. But they did verbally berate us to the point of tears. The reason behind this attack - was simply that these young lasses desperately wanted an iPhone charger. They were all running low on battery power on their iPhones. They were late for their VIP entry into "Le Sheet" nightclub. Without having working iPhones on them meant that they would be
unable to take pictures of themselves and chat to friends on Facebook.

I didn't have a lot of sympathy for these girls, but I was intrigued to the point of Indiana Jones-style adventure. I dropped my passenger off at my house, and then ventured off to investigate this situation. I wanted to know what exactly happens in these so-called "Party places". What would drive a group of luscious girls to attack a harmless couple of citizens? I investigated this phenomenon and very surprising results hit me....in the face, then I was  asked to leave. Anyway, here goes.........

Waiting in line to get into this nightclub was the very first surprise. A man was clearly very drunk, and he was standing in front of me. He vomited on his shoes, then fell over. I brushed him aside and stepped forward one place. As I approached the entrance, I was suddenly seized by a big, bald man. He asked to see my ID. I showed him my ID, and he said I looked much older than my age......I was hurt, to say the least!

As I entered the establishment in question, an overwhelming noise blew my ears off, and the stench of sweat and other bodily fluids bombarded my nostrils. A glowing tube of possibly cancer-causing chemicals was offered to me by a ravishing young lady. I declined the offer, because I didn't want to stand out, because I was on a mission from conservative/straight-edge God!

When I entered the main stage area of "Le Sheet", a man with a camera took my photograph, I did not agree to this, but I could not do anything about it. I wasn't even wearing my best pair of spectacles! Feeling very despondent and glum, I shuffled over to the bar and ordered a double whiskey. The price of this tiny amount of liquid actually made me scream involuntarily. People were giving me strangle looks, and I was giving them strange looks. Nobody of the opposite sex approached me for sex, or just a bit of a chat. The stress of this situation made me want to start smoking again. So I walked out into the outdoor smoking area. I asked a young lady for a cigarette, and she complied with my request. She even lit it for me. Classy lady.

As I was puffing away, a small fight started in front of me. It then got a lot worse. A large man with a long beard pulled out a Glock 17 pistol(with a flashlight attachment). He fired it into the air three times and everybody ran away, screaming. I, however, did not run away. I attempted to defuse the situation, by fainting. By the time I came to, I was picked up by a bouncer. I was accused of being too drunk for the establishment's standards. Subsequently I left, angry and afraid.

I went home and cried for a few moments, so distraught by my nightclub experience. I implore you all to not step foot inside any nightclub, unless you have diarrhea  I suppose you could run in to do your business, but then GET OUT OF THERE!"

This kind of thing must happen all the time! Be careful peeps. 

Facebook, the best cure for happiness in the world!

Whenever you're in a very good mood, get your arse over onto Facebook, and within several seconds, you can actually feel the happiness drain from your brain, dribble down your back, and make your pants feel wet with despair!

The age of uniqueness is coming to an end, ladies and gentledudes.

If you live in a Western country, if you speak English as your first or second language, if you have a reasonably comfortable living, you will undoubtedly be plugged into social media/networking of some sort or another. Twitter and Facebook are the two big players in this game. A game that is marketed as being harmless fun and just a little luxury in life that encourages friendship and genuine communicational enjoyment. It is not like that. It is NOT like that, at all.

First of all, you join up to whichever social media site you wish, for the vast majority of sad fools, it will be Facebook or Twitter, or both! Joining up is very, very easy - because they WANT you to join, they want you to become a piece in their nutty puzzle. Facebook, for example, sends out "friend requests" to ALL of your e-mail contacts. This is the FIRST thing Facebook does to you, and it's a terrible idea, possibly a very dangerous idea(sending a friend request to your most hated enemies whose contacts you still have). After Facebook bombards helpless people with your pathetically pleading friend requests, it asks you to create a profile which will be completely your own. Facebook keeps your profile on record forever, so it's not just your own, it's Facebook's own too!

I'll be honest here; I'm only going to be talking about Facebook from now on, because I've no experience with Twitter or any others, because Facebook has taken over my life in a way that not even my nicotine addiction can rival.

If you don't have many friends in real life, you won't be fixing that with Facebook. Popular people with a multitude of friends will have many hundreds, possibly thousands of Facebook friends. Shy, recluses like me, have less than one hundred. If people like me have more than 100 Facebook friends, it means that they have spent several days clicking "add friend" on everybody's page they
can find. And that's such a pathetic thing, I'm actually starting to cry. I wrote a letter to Mark Zuckerburg's(creator of Facebook) people, and I suggested the tagline for Facebook should be "Facebook, where narcissists come to be themselves!" No reply was given to me, and I know Mark Zuckerburg himself, was deeply hurt by my jibe, because my suggestion was deleted from the page
it was posted on.

That's the thing about "Facey", as it is affectionately called, by pricks! It makes you care about things and people you usually wouldn't give a flying Facebook about. I don't like sick dogs, but when someone posts pictures of one and morally blackmails me to care about it, I can't help but press the "like" button, and waste precious time and calories worrying about this canine with a cold.

People like to think that they are unique and special. But on Facebook, the stark truth comes to light. On Facebook, and therefore to a large extent in real life; people slot very snugly into a few certain groups. There is "The funny-persons", "The serious",  "The Bullies", and finally the "Vacuous Sexies". The Bullies are a genuine menace, and they shouldn't be tolerated by anybody at
anytime. That's all I can really say about the Bullies. The Serious are an interesting group. They are refreshing in a way, because they don't even try to be funny. But the content of their posts and statuses are so dour, they make you want to jump from a very tall tree! The Funny-persons are perhaps the most annoying group, because very rarely are they truly funny. This group tends
to rely on posting jokes they find on joke websites or even worse, their own relentless attempts at tiring observational humour. The Vacuous Sexies are the most interesting group. They are very physically attractive and immensely popular. They don't offer anything new or intriguing to Facebook, but they do post pictures of themselves, often on beaches! They are the most perfect
example of the shallowness of human beings. No one cares what they say or do, but they can't help but "like" everything they post on Facebook because somewhere deep within their primal monkey brains, they hope that "liking" a post will get them some sex with the Vacuous Sexy in question.

So, enjoy your social networking, if you can. 



Satan and 26 other people like this
Like     Comment     Share                                   Posted on 11:30pm June 22nd