Reasons you will hate me

Hi ladies!

Ways to pick up the hot bitches, as demonstrated by a highly intoxicated young man at Control on Saturday night*:






1. 'Hmmm. Looks like I've completed my drink. Might mosey on in and have a slash.'
2. 'What the - this isn't the boy's toilets! Oh well. I suppose this cubicle will do in the interim for a man in desperate need of relief.'
3. 'Hey, wait a sec. If I stand up here on the toilet lid, I can peer over into the next cubicle to watch the ladies urinate! Sweet!'
4. 'Bah. I've been spotted. And it appears as though she's warning the next woman in the queue about my elaborate ruse.'
5. 'Never mind! I'll just stay here, frozen on the toilet lid like a treefrog in camouflage mode. Maybe the incoming lady won't notice!'
6. 'Doo-de-doo. While I'm up here I might kill time by menacingly whispering the words to one of the latest top 40 rap classics. That ought to relax whoever's up next in the wee-line.'
7. 'Hey! Where'd everybody go?'
8. 'A-ha! Crafty minxes have snuck past me while I was scoping the scene. Looks like I'll have to POUND MY FIST ON THE DOOR AND LOUDLY INFORM THEM I'VE RUN OUT OF TOILET PAPER!'
9. 'Blast. Now I am being forcibly ejected from the venue. Best take my toilet penisry elsewhere!'






975 days til the next election.




*The party at Control was great and I didn't even care much that I was stone-cold while everyone else went spastic to our bitch-ass dj-ing skills.
The masquerade thing was sweet, too. You could totally pretend you were in a period drama, eyeing off the mysterious gent in the tiger mask whilst coquettishly hiding behind your glittering butterfly. Then it just got in the way and annoying and impossible to stick a straw through.

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