Tag Archives: Drunk

Chewie Does Schoolies

gday all

Me names Kev, but me mates call me Chewie..

i used to go to wangaratta secondary college, like, in wangaratta, until i was booted out just before exams for setting fire to a wheelie bin, but now me and me mates are headed to the gold coast for SCHOOLIES WEEK!!!1!

So, like in the intrests of public knowlege and all that shit like, im writing this article about schoolies, cos like heaps of cunts go there after school finishes and that?

My girlfriend didnt want me to go cos like she thought id root other chicks and that, so i dumped her arse cos she was right CHEWIES GOIN TO ROOT CHICKS.!!

i was like ‘fucken yehhhhhhhh!!!!!!! schoolies man i’m gunna get some puss-ay!’ and she just like went back to smokin her billy and so i threw her bag out the window LOL!!!

so im not a very good writer or whatever fucken, so i just got a bunch of pictures of schoolies and im pritty much just goin to write shit about them and try not to piss any fucken faggets off and that..

SCHOOOLLIESS!!

crowd

crowd21

drunk

makeout

support

all in all schOOLIES WAS FUCKEN AWESOME. I DRANK LIKE 100 LITERS OF BEERS AND MET SOME TOP BLOKES. sO FOR ALL THE WANKERS SAYING SCHOOLIES IS DANGEROUS FUCKEN GET CLUE MATE, I WENT TO SCHOOLIES I ONLY GOT 1 CONCUSHION AND 14 STITCHES! tOO EASY!!

hooroo,

CHEWIE

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Bleak, Retarded Future: A Sci-Fi Synopsis.

Melbourne: The future.

A city in disarray. Violence rules the streets.

Successive governments have failed to curb the out of control binge-drinking epidemic that is gripping the city. People just drink future-beers where ever they want then start future-fights. It’s madness.

Even banning drinking in strip clubs failed to stop the bloodshed. Who could have predicted that? I seriously would have thought that’d have a massive impact and stop all the crime from happening.

Inside the Australian Centre for Knee-Jerk Reactions, after years of brainstorming and experiments, scientists believe they have finally found the answer:

Robotic Electronic Titanium Alcohol-Reducing Diamorphic Empathetic Defender.

Or R.E.T.A.R.D.E.D. for short.

A cybernetic half-human, half-robot crime fighter that will rid the streets of scum and villainy.

Scientist 1: Finally! RETARDED is up and running! Now the streets will be clean of violence and mayhem!

Scientist 2: Yes. My children will grow up in a world without anything ever happening at all. I will rest easy.

In Canberra, President Rudd, serving his 19th term in office, gets word that RETARDED is being deployed on the streets of Melbourne, and makes a statement at a press conference…

Rudd: Seeing as though global warming happened in spite of our best efforts, and billions of dollars were spent on nothing, I can honestly say that if this plan fails I’m giving up on this bullshit altogether.

(Rudd’s aide clears his throat and motions at Rudd pointedly)

Rudd: Oh, yes… working families.

(Rudd leaves the stage to a resounding standing ovation.)

Back in Melbourne, RETARDED enters his specially-made RETARDED transportation unit for the first time and proceeds to cruise around looking for drunks and out of control behavior.

He spots on King St a suspicious looking individual.

RETARDED exits his vehicle and approaches the man.

RETARDED: Good evening sir. What is your business outside this adult entertainment complex?

Drunk Man: Heeeyy… youse is that fucken drunk cop thingo ey?

RETARDED: I’m Robotic Electronic Titanium Alcohol-Reducing Diamorphic Empathetic Defender. I keep the streets clean of intoxicated individuals through any force neccesary.

(Drunk man begins taking photos of RETARDED with his future-phone.)

Drunk Man: Oi! Davo! Loogadd this! Fucken metal shiny cop cunt!

Davo: Ahhhh! that’s awesome! (Gets out his future-camera phone, that in the future is actually a camera with a phone in it)

RETARDED: Sir, blow into my Breathalizer finger please.

Drunk Man: Okay, but I don’t usually do thish on the firs’ date huh huh!

(Man blows into RETARDED’s finger. A BAC reading of .145 shows up on RETARDED’s visor. He grabs the drunks man’s arm and breaks it at the elbow in one fell swoop.)

Drunk Man: ARGHGHGHHHH!!!!!

RETARDED: Sir, you are drunk. I am taking you down to the police station for further questioning.

Davo: Holy shit mate! That cunt just broke your arm in half! Fucken sick! I’m taking pics man, this is goin’ on my Future-book!

A job well done by RETARDED. He has kept another drunken lout of the streets of Melbourne, and only at a small cost to it’s taxpayers of forty-thousand dollars, and the city’s reputation.

But the job’s not done yet.

On the way back to HQ, RETARDED stops at a 7-11 to get a packet of chips, because he still has human parts, and those parts happen to like chips.

He notices strange activity going on inside the store, so he enters it with caution.

There at the counter, an armed man is pointing a laser at the clerk.

Clerk: Oh! Praise Allah! It’s RETARDED!

Armed Man: Oh, shit.

RETARDED: What is the nature of your emergency?

Clerk: This man is about to leave with all my money! You must help me.

(Beat)

Clerk: Uh… will you apprehend this man, please?

RETARDED: …I can not perform this function.

Clerk and Armed Man together: …What???

RETARDED: I’m Robotic Electronic Titanium Alcohol-Reducing Diamorphic Empathetic Defender. I keep the streets clean of intoxicated individuals.

Clerk: You mean, you can’t just take him to your car with you?

RETARDED: I can not perform this function.

Armed Man: I’m… just going to leave with my money.

The armed man escapes RETARDED this time! But if RETARDED ever catches him so much as .001% over the limit, his ass is grass!

RETARDED: I will purchase some Kettle chips.

Clerk: Fuck, you’re retarded.

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‘Straya: The Yucky Country

“Aussies fat, drunk and riddled with STDs”

Clearly I don’t fit in with the majority of Aussies… I’m only two of those things.

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Boys Night Out

Last night I bit the bullet and decided to edit the footage I’d gotten from a boys night out some months back.

Needless to say it was quite the messy night. See for yourself…

Afterwards, I apparently slept for a solid two hours sitting upright on a chair with my legs crossed. Class and finesse, baby.

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Drunjk post…

oh my god theres a big fucking sloth on ,ym lbog!!!!

HI EVERY1!

this is a entry about how i drank around 18 beers and a jager-bomb tonight, and i didnt even start a fight!!!

fuck you howadrd rudd.,’

anyways,  i got in a cab and almost gave the drve r too much cash, but he remindmed me i alreqady gave him a $20 note, so i tipped him $3 for being an honest and decenttt bastard…

i (heart) this cuntry.

ANYway lets sing the nash anthem.

…or lets no.t

i hoooked in WITH a hot chick tonight on the daenc floor..  😉   ;0)  l;0) __))
so wahsst., thats happens all the time…,

well., ill psst moer shit late..r…

(heart) jamess O

HERAT

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We Represent the Jagerbomb Guild

More alcohol-related outrage on the ether…

Protest over topless Spirit Midget…

A PUB promotion involving a bare-chested and top-hatted dwarf walking the length of a bar pouring free booze down the throats of patrons has drawn protests from alcohol education campaigners.

The Jagermeister promotion has been on one night a week at The Saint in St Kilda, Melbourne, the Port Phillip Leader reports.

“Evening ma’am, can I interest you in some Jagermeister?”

“Yeeee.. drink it down bitch! Dollar dollar bill yo!”

How come I never know about these promotions?
The closest I’ve gotten is when I rocked up at a club half an hour after the Corona girls had gone around giving everyone free merch.

I found a Corona™ sweatband on the D-Floor but then dropped it in the toilet.

I don’t know if I’d trust a litte person holding a full sized bottle of spirits above my open mouth. Just seems to be another way of saying “You know front teeth, we’ve had some good times, and you’re useful and all, but there’s a half-naked dwarf in a top-hat standing awkwardly on the bar with a heavy glass bottle way too big for his stubby little fingies pouring spirits into peoples mouths and I want to be a part of that.”

Good on him though, he’s obviously a hard worker, and I’m gunna say it… the man takes care of his body. STACKED.

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2am Lockout, or “How I Learned To Hate Everyone.”

I’M SO BLOODY FUCKING FREAKING FURIOUS!!!!!!!!!1!!!!1!!!@

Okay, well I’m not that angry.

I’m just frustrated that this whole so-called ‘2am lockout‘ (doesn’t the phrase just scream “people friendly policy” right in your face?) will be enacted in Melbourne soon, and the only people getting a say in it haven’t experienced this city’s nightlife since Mo Rene was bringing the house down at the Tivoli Theatre…

Basically the law will be that any nightclub that lets in new patrons after 2am will be severely reprimanded yadda yadda yadda etc etc in the hopes of tackling our marvellous city’s spiralling assault epidemic.

Pictures in today’s Herald Sun did nothing to quell the issue.

CITY ERUPTSSSSS!! ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WORKING FAMILIES OF ‘STRAYA!!!!!
Honestly with a headline like that on the front page of your country’s highest selling paper you’d expect it to be the fucking Blitzkreig!
No shit folks, I saw the front page of the Herald Sun this morning, shat my pants, and promptly ran for the nearest door frame and stood in it with my hands braced against the sides like Krakatoa was busting a nut in my lounge room.

This latest novel idea to punish the majority for the idiocy of the (very) small minority, is even more frustrating as it comes days after K.Rudd, aka Kevin ’07, aka Kevin Frank Drebben, aka Kevin uhh.. Michael Bevan? (we get it, Kevin Rudd’s name can be used against him, get over it opinion-piece writers) announced he’d be lifting the tax levy on all pre-mixed alcoholic beveridges (which apparently are called, no shit… ‘Alcopops’… hmm, for a government so anti-binge drinking they sure do seem to know a lot about booze slang… curious). I mean I don’t really care about that, I need a passionfruit UDL like I need a colostomy bag emptied into my chocolate flavoured Yogo tublet (obscure 90’s snack reference FTW!!1!), but as Dennis Denuto says, “It’s the principal”. He also says “TRAY THREE? I’VE CLEARED TRAY THREE FIVE FUCKING TIMES!”

So the real question is… what to do about all this nonsense? Do we start a riot… instigating a new form of government which will fight for our right to party?

No. We take shitty songs and we replace the lyrics with somewhat funny ones that don’t really last the length of the original song (I get bored quickly).

For the full effect, check out the vid below and read the lyrics to the tune!

“2am Lockout”

You elected Kevin Rudd,
And he wants to thank you thus
Now pre-mixed booze costs way too much for you

Those drink are way too dear now,
And it’s hard to get a beer now
Cos Brumby’s fucking your fun nights out too

(Angels: La lalala lalala lalala…)

2am lockout,
No kicking on after birthdays for you
2am lockout,
No sinking piss somewhere else after two

Well at least they could have taken time, to ask ‘Who will clean all this up?’
Instead of knee-jerk policies, that will only ruin good piss-ups…

Baby get moving (Baby get movin),
We’ll have to stay at this shit club til five,
There’s no point improving (Is it improving…)
When politicians love to drink and drive?

He shot some galliano, and chased it with a jager,
A few more beers, then behind the wheel, and he’s front page of the paper.

2am lockout (it’s such a cop-out),
Don’t forget that nightclub ‘Scores’
2am lockout (Rudd got his cock out)
At that tit bar in New York

Well it’s easy to say Brumby will be
Voted out next election,
But I’ve heard nothing from that fucker Ted,
So the system can suck my erection

2am lockout.

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