“Did you hear that Oscar Pistorius has a brother called Ray who is on a sexual assault charge? Rapist-orius! It’s a joke, get it?” Joe the cabbie was a ranter. He loved talking about girls but I don’t think he knows much about them. He was porky and Mediterranean and drove me really slowly from Paddo to Dully. It went down like this.
“Man what a fall from grace. He was all the way up at the top and now he’s down the bottom, he’ll spend ten years in a South African jail. Fuck being in a South African jail. South Africa is fucked. It was OK when the whites ran it but now, since the blacks took over, the whole place has gone to shit. They used to have good mines. Diamonds and shit. Now the blacks took over they can mine anything for shit. Their farms don’t work. They aren’t effective.”
What does that have to do with Pistorius?
“He’ll just be some poor white guy in a jail over there getting bashed by black cunts for the rest of his life. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel sorry for him. He shouldn’t have killed his woman. Did you even see her? She was hot. For a bloke with no real legs he did well getting her. If I had that woman I’d do anything she’d ask me to do. I would lick her feet, eat her arsehole..Anything.”
“African chicks man, some of them are too attractive. They are like white girls. The South Africans anyway. They are like white girls with good suntans. The only problem is their men don’t like them associating with white guys. I know this chick from Ghana who I have been trying it on with. She’s nice and everything but when the black guys see you with a black woman they stare at you like they want to kill you. Fuck, you know? Is it worth getting smashed in the face just to have sex with some black girl? Have you seen how big black men’s cocks are? Why would you go through all that just to end up fucking a chick who probably has some huge, stretched out vagina. I’d much rather root some white girl with a normal sized vagina or even an Asian. At least they are nice and tight. African chicks are hot sometimes but you are taking too much of a risk. Not just with getting bashed and shit but with diseases. African guys cheat on their women all the time and basically have five girlfriends who they visit every day and they root ‘em and leave their spoof inside them. That’s why there is so much AIDS over there because of all the men who root them without condoms. People in Africa don’t even use condoms. I don’t think Americans do either.”
“But this Ghanese chick man, I could root her and probably all her friends but I don’t want to get bashed and I don’t want to be at risk of getting AIDS or even Ebola or anything. You know that Ebola virus Africans have? That is the worst. I don’t know anyone who has it but it’s really dangerous and it kills people, in particular people in Africa.”
I had it once and it was kind of like a heavy cold..
“Are you serious?”
“Ohh, good one. Which way do you want to go?”
The quickest way
“OK. I want a white girl because I am white. If I had a black girl there is only a 50/50 chance of the kid turning out ok. Black kids have a vacant look in their eye, kind of like they are missing something.”
“I don’t know, it’s like they are born cold. They don’t care about anything except getting chicks.”
Hmm. Yeah..Look just pull up here..Credit thanks.
“No worries, but yeah, that Pistorius is so guilty..He doesn’t have a leg to stand on! Get it?”
I love that joke..
Jasper Clifford-Smith explains his love of the British political comedy:
The first time I heard the term ‘bag of cum’ used as an offensive description of someone was on The Thick Of It. These words came from the mouth of fictional spin-doctor Malcolm Tucker (Peter Capaldi) during Season 3 of Armando Iannucci’s extremely intelligent, fast-paced and sweary political satire.
Yesterday I heard that Avril Lavigne and the guy from Nickelback, Chad Kroger were engaged. A friend of mine tweeted that he hopes Chad beats the shit out of her when they get married. I was going to retweet but felt it would be inappropriate and wouldn’t send the right message to my legions of female fans. It got me thinking about how these two frightfully disgusting, Canadian, pieces of human garbage met, what they do together and what the chemistry is like between them.
I don’t really know much about either of them other than they make shit music, they are from Canada and they are famous. I haven’t heard much Nickelback but from what I have heard their songs are all about being sorry for giving Chad’s wife/girlfriend a hiding because she disrespected him. I haven’t heard an Avril Lavigne song in several years but while taking a shit a few months ago I read an interview with her in Rolling Stone. She may be, and I know this is a big call; the dullest entertainer this century has produced. She makes Reece Mastin look like Salvador Dali. Her interview was about how she got dumped by that chump from Sum 41 and how her new album is all acoustic or something. Apparently she likes cooking too.
So yeah I was thinking about how they met. They were probably in a VIP section at the Canadian Music Awards or something and they were sitting alone, surrounded by security guards. They got to talking about how hard it is being the most famous people Canada has ever produced. They are even more famous than Terrence AND Phillip put together. They are probably even more famous than the entire cast of Degrassi. Drake isn’t on their radar as he is (kinda) black and Avril and Chad are massive racists. Anyway they are at this party and they refuse to talk to anyone. Avril being a washed up groupie of the lowest order goes up to Chad and says ‘wooo Chad! Howareya? This place sucks don’t it?’ Chad, freshly shaven and fancying himself a bit goes ‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’ ‘It’s me! Avril!’ ‘Oh yeah, hey Avril. Things ain’t good. Everyone hates me. I’m an alcoholic, I beat up women and write songs about how shit I feel afterwards, my band are awful and I fall asleep to the sound of my own overtly masculine screams. But hey, I’m still famous.’ Avril replies; ‘hey that’s a damn shame Chad, at least you still got your fame. I haven’t had a song on the radio in like 8 years. Alanis Morrisette won’t even pick up my calls. I’ll tell you what though, I can still suck a front man’s dick like a champ, how about it hun?’
Anyway yada yada yada, now they are engaged. They will probably have kids too. They will call the kids Chad Jnr and Alanis and they will live in a big ol’ mansion in Hollywood where they will spit at the Mexican help while they make sweet love on their Canadian flag bed spread.
I hope Chad resists the temptation to beat her up. These two, although scum, are made for each other and a domestic violence incident may be a hindrance to a potentially beautiful union.
There is someone out there for everyone. Remember that people. If you are alone in the world like poor old Chad Kroger just know that your Avril is out there somewhere. She could be working at Donut King, maybe at KFC, but she’s out there.
What the fuck is wrong with people? In 2012 Channel 9 feels the need to make Big Brother and people watch it? Goddammit. They must be so fucking proud of themselves. ‘Oh great job guys! The ratings are through the roof!’ Fuck you and fuck your ratings. There was nobody in Australia going ‘Jeez I wish they still made Big Brother. That show was great.’ Didn’t fucking happen. They went and made it anyway and people are fucking watching it!
It’s all over twitter. A whole bunch of people talking about how lame the new season of Big Brother is. What the fuck were you expecting? It’s Big Brother. A show which hasn’t had any edge for a decade.
I guess you just wanted to see what the housemates were like. I haven’t even watched it but I could guess there are a few dumb girls who are kinda pretty, a dumb fat girl, a lesbian or gay guy, some kind of minority, a farmer, a yuppie and a dude with zany hair or piercings or both. Am I wrong? I bet I’m not.
I hate the fact Channel 9 seems to get away with doing this shit. I mean they obviously have an audience (white, stupid, potentially racist) but fuck. They produce nothing of worth anymore. Underbelly is their idea of a quality drama. Yeah, great job guys. I remember the season where Matthew Newton (!) was the star. They had a scene where he was at passport control at an airport where he was trying to smuggle heroin. It’s set in the 70s but old Girl Basher Newton pulls out a red British passport. If they had bothered to do maybe, ummm, five seconds of research then they would have known that British Passports were blue in the 70s. But who the fuck cares when your audience will just swallow whatever you ejaculate on a nightly basis.
I am semi curious about this show about Kerry Packer and the birth of one-day cricket. It’s an interesting story and I would love to see how they do it. I have a terrible feeling though, like everything else Channel 9 seem to make it will be factually incorrect, badly acted horseshit. Still at least they are doffing their dunce hat to their old boss Kerry. At least when Kerry was running shit Channel 9 had a soul. He used to care about what went on his TV Channel. Now the place is run by bean counters and venture capitalists who only care about profits. If costs can be cut they will cut them. This is why they are making Big Brother. It’s cheap. Underbelly probably costs a bit more to make than Big Brother but it still looks cheap. Every season of Underbelly except the first one reminds me of ‘high quality’ porn. Bits of plot and violence squeezed in between a pair of huge fake tits. It’s hardly The Sopranos. It’s not even The Bill.
Channel 9 do still have the Cricket and Rugby League, which is nice. They have to have something worth watching. I can’t imagine they will be able to hang onto those sports for much longer though. It’s not their style. They have already pissed all over Kerry Packers beloved station, I bet they end up selling his beloved cricket to Channel 7 just so they can afford to keep Karl Stephanovic and Michael Slater in cocaine and Hugo Boss for a few more years. The Cricket and Rugby League (and for the last fortnight, the Olympics) are the only reason why I would watch Channel 9. When they get hocked I imagine nobody except the dangerously germophobic, xenophobic and mentally ill will even know it still exists because they will NEVER get rid of A Current Affair.
Until then, enjoy Big Brother Australia. You’ve waited long enough..
So the Olympics start tomorrow. I promised I would write more about them but like the hippy in the shitty 80s teen movie I just want to freak you put and mess with your minds a bit. That’s why I have decided my pre opening ceremony blog will not be about how teary I get when I see someone from a war torn shithole win gold for weightlifting or how excited I am to see Blur play at the closing ceremony. This post is about social networking on the Internet. Deal with it.
The first time I ever used some kind of social networking app was towards the end of the 20th century. It was ICQ and I was about 14. I would spend hours on it talking to girls I didn’t have the balls to speak to in person. I was a very awkward teenager. When I see teenage boys with any modicum of swagger I instantly assume they are future Patrick Bateman’s and if they don’t get offered the cha cha cha they’ll take it anyway. Basically I was so insecure and afraid of rejection that to approach any girl in the cold reality of real life was way too much of an ask. ICQ was the perfect outlet for the awkward and horny teenager. One could chat to a girl you kind of knew and it felt natural because you are at home and you don’t need to think about how you look, sound or act.
For those who never used ICQ it was just a chat device. Exactly the same as Facebook Chat but it looked like shit and it was prone to spam attacks. After a while I started using MSN messenger and that was far more user friendly. By the MSN days I had lost my man virginity and didn’t really feel those old inhibitions holding me back. MSN became more of a communication tool I would use to keep in touch with people I had met on internet forums and through various blogs I was writing for. It was simple and spam free and it didn’t look like a truckers jizz rag.
Anyway that all happened for a while and everyone was happy. One could make friends on the Internet and keep in touch with them through an instant messenger program or you could simply chat with friends and relatives without the use of a phone.
Then the darkness came.
It was a whole new thing. Public profiles with music and different colours and all that nonsense which just seems silly now. People could express who they really were online. Hell they even made you rank your friends, which is something to this day I find really perverse. Everyone did it though. Even me.
Everyone would volunteer personal information just so they could give an idea of themselves to people. Marital status, age, favourite bands, movies and quotes and all that. People wanted to show off how cool and awesome they were. You could even get sweet wallpapers to ‘pimp’ your site.
MySpace was cool for a while until Facebook came along and destroyed it. Facebook took the ‘social network’ elements of MySpace and expanded on it while making the layout much faster and a hell of a lot nicer to look at. Some people (former MySpace users) accused Facebook of lacking personality but those were the dickheads with the zebra print background image and their top 22 friends ranked in order from BBBFF to BBFF to BFF to just F, so we’ll forget about them. Facebook’s success is purely down to the fact that it became so popular. People the world over were frantically taking down pictures of themselves jacking meth into their eyeballs two years ago because their parents or grandparents just joined up. Everyone was on it and if they have known you at some stage in life (they didn’t have to like you) then you were socially obliged to be friends with them. It became the done thing. Again most people volunteered their personal info (relationship status, age, locale) as well as hundreds and hundreds of random photos. Basically the CIA’s wettest, filthiest dreams come true.
In my experience the worst thing about Facebook is the plethora of awkward social situations that would never have normally happened in the good old days are now just a click away. I shudder to think how many fights occur on Facebook Chat or how many people can have their dirty laundry sniffed and caressed by several hundred friends and acquaintances. Oh yeah and the cyber bullying people are always on about. It’s not cool. At the risk of sounding like some zit faced Orwell fan, Orwell predicted something like this. It’s happening and its worse than anyone ever imagined!
Anyway so I currently use Facebook and I feel it has become a necessity in my life in the same way having a mobile phone is a necessity. For all its fucked up evils, Facebook is a great communication tool.
Twitter on the other hand I see as a much more enjoyable indulgence.
If you want to see what your best buds, lets call them Travis and Skeeter, got up to on their recent trip to Cancun or whatever, use Facebook. If you want to hear Salman Rushdie’s opinions on American gun laws or read stupid shit footballers say then use Twitter.
NOTE: Also seems to work if you are a rapper and you want to sell your new line of alcoholic sorbets/condoms/iPad cases etc.
I enjoy twitter because I prefer the format of following people rather than being socially obligated to be ‘friends’ with people you couldn’t give two shits about (nobody in particular incase any of my Facebook friends are reading and think what I’m saying is about them, its not.)
Twitter also allows you to be part of conversations which nobody but people of the same interests need to follow as opposed to a Facebook newsfeed where you just have anything posted put in front of you just because someone you know has posted it. That being said, the Facebook newsfeed is an amazing tool to have if you want to detect racists, lunatics or psychopaths among people you know. I should start a Facebook group called ‘That moment when you think you know someone and you think they are ok then they post some shit about “wishing the fuckin chinks would fuck right off” on their Facebook status and you notice that you are friends with proper racists’. Maybe not. Not very catchy is it?
Where social networking will be in five years is a mystery only time can solve. However if history is to be a guide then we are mega fucked. You will be able to live inside Facebook and Twitter and Facebook and Twitter will live inside all of us as if it were a vital organ. Your heart will miss a beat every single time a promoter for a club you don’t even like in a completely different city invites you to something you are completely not interested in going to. Your mind will throb every time someone posts a video proving Nicki Minaj is Illuminati. Personally a tear will fall from my eye every time someone likes a photo of something funny just because a stranger told them to like it. Oh I could go on but it just makes me sad…
So I was looking through my list of things I really can’t quite understand this morning. This list does not physically exist it just lives inside my brain and is constantly edited. Some things only appear on this list for a few minutes, others a few months, others are completely forgotten about so they are deleted and others have been there for years. I decided to flick to that page to see if I could cross anything off. Yep, I kind of understand genocide as means to maintain power. Genocide is off then. The Pope excusing child molesters? Yeah, well, it’s a P.R thing and they are a massive business so although its wrong I still get why. Kim Kardashian? Well she’s rich and American so she has the right to be famous apparently. Her time in the spotlight will run out and it is going to be ugly but yes, I understand why she is there now kinda…Anyway..
I kept scrolling down and I found an entry on this list of things I cannot explain. It’s been there since I was a kid and no matter how much I have thought about it I could never understand why these things exist.
I think the first rap skit I remember hearing was the one before G’s and Hustlas by Snoop Dogg (or as he was known then, Snoop Diggety Doggedy Douglas). As far as skits go its pretty funny. It you don’t know it then you didn’t grow up in the early 90s. The skit involves a teacher asking his pupils what they want to be when they grow up. One says he wants to be a police officer, the other says fireman. He finally asks a young Snoop (who apparently has always rocked chucks and braids, even as a nipper) what he wants to be. Lil Snoop tells this teacher he wants to be a ‘motherfucking hustler’. The song that follows is brilliant and the skit is an acceptable intro to it but that was my first brush with the skits on rap records. Its been a frustrating, embarrassing and very rarely fruitful relationship ever since.
For those who aren’t really au fait with the skit on a rap record I will explain. Unlike artists of other genres hip hop artists are prone to making albums which stretch for the entire duration of a cd. Of course being rappers they have an inflated sense of self worth and find it hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. Some artists believe it’s a good idea to express their comedic side in the form of a vocal skit, similar to something one would hear on the wireless in 1935 just with more profanity. As far as I know the skit has gone out of fashion a bit but there are many albums I still listen to which are unfortunately home to some of the more piss poor attempts at humour ever created.
I just want to also make it clear that I adore hip hop and that even if some of the artists I mention here are rubbish comedians they have bought me many hours of listening pleasure and I completely respect what they do when they aren’t trying to be Eddie Murphy.
SLUM VILLAGE – ONCE UPON A TIME
If there was ever example of a phenomenal track being pissed on by the skit that comes directly after it, it has to be Once Upon A Time by Slum Village. The song itself is incredible. The immaculate production by J Dilla (or Jazzy Dizzy Detreezy as he was known then) features one of the smoothest bass lines one is likely to ever hear over a bed of weird gamelan xylophone. The problem comes after the song when the skit begins. The concept behind the skit is they are doing an infomercial about a cd where Louis Armstrong sings a whole bunch of classic songs. It consists of someone doing a really bad Louis Armstrong impersonation, some karaoke backing tracks and a really fucking weak concept. It really, really stinks. It’s not funny and it makes you embarrassed for them because they thought it was a good idea. The worst thing about it is the quality of the music on the album Fantastic Vol 2 is enormous. The production is so tight and the vocals, although a little stupid at times, are delivered with confidence and supreme flow. Why Slum Village thought putting this unfunny, retarded, piece of hip hip vaudeville on the record is beyond me. Maybe I’m the idiot?
BUSTA RHYMES – SO HARDCORE
Every rapper big rapper in the 1990s until about 2005 seemed to have skits on their record. The skit was embraced by the East Coast and West Coast alike. For all their beef, one thing Puff and Suge could agree on was the importance of a good skit. Everyone had them in one form or another. Dre, Snoop, 2pac, Biggie, Eminem and Busta Rhymes. Busta loved a good skit. The one at the end of So Hardcore is a personal favourite. Unlike Once Upon A Time the skit seems to lead into another song hence providing the album with a plot, albeit a stupid one. It has someone impersonating an Indian fellow driving a taxi in it. Now I know this sounds racist but it’s OK because it’s Black people impersonating Indians that as a white man I have no right to comment on. “Well what about Mahatma Cote?” I hear you cry. ‘Not cool’ says I. Mahatma Cote was a white man pretending to be Indian in a really kind of racist, blackface, channel 9 sort of way. Only Indians and Busta Rhymes are allowed to find him funny. Just so you know..
I do believe, if done well, skits can be extremely funny. I think Kool Keith is a master of the skit. Doom does a nice job too. He doesn’t show off too much but still realized an intermission can be an essential thing. Some skits can even be quite clever, but that doesn’t happen much. Some albums, Guilty Simpson’s Madlib collab O.J Simpson for instance, although a great album it has too many skits. Even if the skits are intelligent and high quality. Even if the skit involved Bill Hicks and Richard Pryor discussing the best way to ingest cocaine while at a circus owned and operated by Karl Stefanovic. Even if the skit (probably on a late Mike Skinner record) contains the ten steps on peace and love on earth. If there are more than two skits on an album then you need to start culling. I’m talking to you Eminem! You still ain’t wrote me back btw, what’s up with that?
Anyway I guess my two cents on skits is they can be funny and worth listening to occasionally but rappers should start having some class and trying to trim the fat off their albums. Skits can only damage your reputation. If your music is good then you do what you do well, if the skits are good too it doesn’t really matter as much because nobody is listening to your album for the skits anyway and if your skits are lame and not funny you’re entire artistic output becomes suspect because there is documented evidence that you are actually retarded and everything you have done is a fluke. Still mad love to Busta and Dilla tho..
The other day I made a wager with Daniel Corboy, lead singer of Reckless Vagina, that their new video Never Ever would get 100,000 views on YouTube in a week. I bet $100. Last time I checked it had been up about a day and a half and had about 350 views. I tried reddit but for some reason I can’t post anything on there (either the nerds don’t like me or I broke some stupid spamming rules). I could pay for YouTube to publicize the video but I will probably end up losing money even if I win the bet. I figure I will use the power of my blog to get people to watch it and pass it on to their friends. I am aware that my blog isn’t that powerful at all but I am working with nothing and I could use the money. Oh and I guess they could use the plug so…yeah..read on.
Never Ever is a cover of the popular All Saint’s track from all those years ago. Reckless Vagina have done a touching version of it with vocals from Corboy and RV’s Jack-Of-All-Trades The Pinch. The video was shot in Kernel where Captain Cook landed back in 1988. There are some fantastic shots of lead guitarist Oscar (who also happens to be my brother) walking up to the edge of a cliff to bust a solo. Its like the darkness but they are slightly less serious. Or more serious. I don’t know. Daniel keeps talking about how he wants people to get the joke but honestly they have done a very tongue in cheek yet tasteful cover of a song which lives in the hearts of many a former suburban teenage girl in the English speaking world.
I used to manage Reckless Vagina. I was shit at it but I really believed that they could be an important band. Every member of this band believes in good songwriting, interesting concepts and perhaps more important than anything having a sense of humour. Their live show has loads of energy and many people who see them once come back to their gigs over and over again. I got the same feeling from Reckless as I did when I first heard The Smiths. They could be one of those bands heaps of people really give a fuck about.
Anyway I think that this video could be the one that breaks them through. It’s a cover but done in a completely different way to the original. This version has a shitload more soul too. The video is a laugh yet is beautifully shot. It has ‘Viral YouTube Video’ written all over it.
If you don’t believe me see it for yourself. Pass it on. Make Reckless Vagina go viral. Make me $100!
Looking for work sucks balls. I hate it. I hate trawling through job sites. I hate how they advertise some sales roles by telling you it is a fun place to work. I hate writing cover letters which make out that I’m ‘extremely interested in this dynamic company’. I hate getting dressed to go to a job interview and not getting the job. I hate it all. It’s the fucking worst.
I already have a job but I really need to get something during the day. Nights do your head in eventually. In the past I have mainly worked in sales. I have always been pretty good at it but I have never really enjoyed it much. Sure reaching your targets at work is rewarding, you don’t want to be seen as dead weight anywhere, but I feel there is more to life than commission, contracts and deals. I have worked in hospitality in the past and have been quite good at it but unfortunately I can’t work nights so I’m looking at sales jobs.
I reckon I would have applied for a good twenty jobs in the last couple of weeks. I have received a total of three callbacks and have had one proper interview. I was unsuccessful. The interview I went to was for some sales job where you had to sell places at these conferences to people from the mining industry. The money was pretty good which is why I applied but as soon as I got there I knew I wasn’t going to get it. It was the land of the Bluetooth headset. The staff was mostly men who all kind of looked the same. The receptionist was nice but I got the feeling she would have been the victim of a fair bit of sexual harassment. It reminded me a bit of Sterling Cooper but it was in Sydney in 2012. The guy who interviewed me was English. He was built like a brick shithouse and looked like a mean bastard. He kept calling me ‘buddy’ too which I wouldn’t have minded so much had I got the job but as I didn’t get it he can go fuck himself. He asked me about my sales experience. I told him that I was an on the street charity fundraiser for a year, I have sold life insurance, done b2b sales for my friends business and for Google. He told me about the job, how the money works and I asked him stuff too. I thought I had it. Next day I get an email saying I didn’t get it. What a waste of time.
Anyway this is a process I have been through more than most people. I don’t know how many jobs I have had but I guess it’s pushing thirty. I have worked in call centres, fast food, big multinationals, a sporting arena and loads of other places. I have always worked to support my lifestyle (creative pursuits + general hedonism are traditionally my priorities). My life has always been my career. No job could ever provide me with that. When I have grown tired of a job it’s generally been pretty obvious. When I was younger I would just stop showing up but as I have grown a bit older and wiser I have learned not to burn as many bridges. One time when I was working for Burwood RSL as a barman my arsehole manager (think a fat version of Gareth Keenan from The Office) told me to clean up a human turd off the bathroom floor. I explained to him that I wasn’t a cleaner and she should get someone else to do it. I knew what was going on. I was down in the sports bar where all the directors drank and I knew they didn’t like me. I had long hair and sideburns and I probably reminded them of all the hippies who shunned then when they got back from Nam. Anyway I was convinced one of these sixty-year-old men had shat on the floor just so I’d have to clean it up. The manager said I had to clean it so I just told him to go fuck himself and left him to clean it up. One thing I will not do for money other than clean up poo is work for the RSL again. They are a pack of cunts who are destroying the country. I’d rather suck a dick.
I did door to door one day too. I got a call from this place asking me to come in for an interview for a ‘customer service position’. I rock up around 10.45 for the 11am interview and the receptionist tells me to sit down and have a glass of water. Anyway at 11 these three Indian guys take me downstairs and put me in a car. We are driving and I ask ‘ummm, where are we going?’ They explain to me that we are on our way to work. Today work was in Glenwood which is this new suburb about an hour drive from the city. I learned in the car that I would be selling phone plans door to door to housewives. I thought I was going to have an interview for a call centre job. So I’m walking these streets lines with McMansions knocking on people’s doors until 9pm and then we leave and go back to the office. I get called in to see the boss who informs me that I did really well for my first day and they want to hire me full time. I told him to go fuck himself and that I didn’t want to be a door-to-door salesman. The look on his face was one of a man who must get told that all the time. Business and usual then.
Basically I don’t like being deceived, pushed around or feeling like a slave so I generally don’t stick around in a job if any of those things start happening. However if I’m treated like an adult and paid well then I’m extremely useful to have around. I have a great problem solving skills, I can relate to the common man and I know how to make money for my employers. So if you are looking for someone who can deal with the public and make you rich, let me know. If not, go fuck yourself.
I know its been a while but here I have made a new podcast. Just a few tracks. Hope you can relate.
Bruce Haack – Requiem
Isley Brothers – Sensuality
Electric Wire Hustle – Perception
Action Bronson – Cocoa Butter
Kool Keith – Regular Girl
Cee Lo – Evening News
Anita Baker – Been So Long
Jaylib – Starz
Mr. Muthafuckin eXquire – Huzzah!
The Weekend – Life Of The Party
Delroy Wilson – Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever
Broadcast – Winter Now
Beck – Nobody’s Fault But My Own
So as some of you may or may not know I work in a strip club. Its ok but to be honest I’m getting pretty sick of the place. The one I work in is a good one where the girls are treated like humans and mostly make good money without having to do anything they aren’t comfortable with. That being said I have seen some pretty dark shit in there and honestly a year and a half I think may be my limit.
I have learned many things while working there. Things about Women. Things about hustling. Things about music. Things about business. But one of the subjects I have learned about more than anything is Men.
Men are strange creatures. Most Men I know all have a direction in life. We work hard to get somewhere. Our egos wouldn’t have it any other way. Some men take longer to decide what vocation is best suited to them. Others have known since they were kids. Some men are motivated by money, some by companionship, some by power and some by popularity. Most by a combination of these. Some Men read a lot, others just watch Channel 7. Some Men are confident with the opposite sex while others would piss their cargo shorts before they could ask a girl for the time.
Working in a strip club I have met a lot of Men. Some guys come in once and I’ll never see them again while some come in every day. We have a members show on a Tuesday and there are about five middle aged Men who show their membership cards for free entry, go into a dark little room and for fifteen minutes see a ‘free’ vagina. They normally stick around for about fifteen minutes after. They have a glass of water and discuss the girl who just danced for them. We also have customers who come in and book several girls for hours at a time ($360 an hour after 9pm in the VIP area). They buy shots and champagne and they party until about 2am then they go back to their unhappy wives. Wake up strung out. Go to their $200,000+ jobs and come back to get fleeced the next day. Like clockwork.
Some guys come in looking to get laid; others come in looking for a girlfriend. Whoever it is one thing is for sure in my eyes; strip club customers are a microcosm of Men in general.
While the average civilian Male may work hard in his field to have influence over others around him, the guy out the back with the bottles of Dom and the black Amex is doing the same thing. The guy at the stage tipping hundred dollar bills while the girl ignores the poor sucker with $4 worth of tipping dollars in his hand is flexing his muscle. Being a man. ‘She wants me because I have the money’ thinks the executive while the poor guy who had to get $20 out at the ATM around the corner so he could participate in frankly one of the silliest pastimes in western civilization is thinking ‘What an arsehole’ and ‘I wonder what he does for a living? I’m such a loser’. The guy with less money briefly aspires to be the cunt at the stage with the hunjies. Like some sleazy lost chapter of Alain De Botton’s Status Anxiety.
I have seen guys come through those doors flashing their money around like it was never going to end. One guy, lets just call him Adam, started coming in and he always gave about $400 to one of the security guards. I think this was because he was a bit of a lunatic and he liked to get into fights with people and he wanted his very own bouncer to back him up. Anyway Adam was some kind of Vice President of some big company and he just threw money around like it was going out of fashion. He eventually took a shine to me and basically paid me to hang out with him because I don’t think he really had any friends and he’d occasionally get rid of any girls who he didn’t want hanging around him trying to take his money. One afternoon he came in off his tits and tipped me $1450. I couldn’t believe it. I thought ‘Hey I’m going to look after this guy from now on, I might be able to afford that hair transplant I have always wanted’. Essentially Adam had turned me into a stripper and I really didn’t care. Anyway he kept coming in and for the next couple of months I would get tipped somewhere between $200-$600 every time I saw him. Then Adam started coming in and the tips got smaller and smaller. He would arrive at two in the afternoon and ask for drugs. Of course we told him we were a legitimate venue and not some sketchy hole in the wall one stop sin monger. The tips eventually dried up for everyone and then nobody cared about Adam anymore. Nobody has seen the guy for about eight months. I hope he’s doing ok…
The thing about strip club punters is that even if they do know that the whole point of the business is to drain every last penny out of you all in the name of a bit of titillation, they don’t seem to care. The titillation is what gets them through their lives. There’s one guy who comes in every single day who I could have sworn was gay. When the kitchen is open he’ll have a steak, sit by the stage and talk to the girls. He just loves the company. He works locally Monday to Friday but every now and then he’ll come in on a Saturday just to feel at home again.
Anyway I guess when the time does come to leave and get myself a normal job I will of course miss my co-workers and some of the girls who have made my time there enjoyable however I will also miss the freak show. The constant reminder that you are one messy divorce away from driving into the city every Tuesday night for a fifteen-minute glance at a vagina. You are only $100,000 a year away from spending all your evenings in some dimly lit and probably sticky ‘VIP’ room. Just a coke habit away from giving a huge Serbian man $400 a night so he can have your back if you decide to punch someone in the face for ‘lookin queer’ at you.
Actually fuck that. Have these people never heard of pornhub?