Monday, September 04, 2006

don't you know what girls say sometimes?

Honest to God, I swear this is true.

I went out to lunch the other day with bro. It was at a nice little Vietnamese place (by nice I mean the waiting staff were looking over their shoulder in case the health inspector were to show up, but lack of hygiene is made up for by their EXCELLENT salt and pepper squid legs. delish!). Anyway we were sitting there enjoying our pre-meal green tea, when this group of about 8 men walk in with briefcases. No folks, this was not the Asian Mafia. It wasn't the Italian Mafia either (they'd never eat there anyway). Not a knife, or gun or shoes with zippers to be seen.

It was worse.
Corporate Bogan blokes travelling in a pack.

Nothing makes me want to cross the street to the other side more when I see a pack of them approaching. There should be a limit as to how many are allowed to be in the same room at the same time. I say two (one to pat the other on the back when they tell a tasteless joke). That's it.

They sat down at the table next to us and proceeded to do what bogans do best (call eachother mate and talk about chicks).

Bro and I smile at eachother and roll our eyes. He says "god I hate people". I agree. It's all going to plan so far.

Meanwhile the salt and pepper squid legs come out and they are crunchy and hot and we dig in. yummm. I am half listening to the bogan blokes congratulate eachother on how fuckin' brilliant they are when one of them starts retelling a story about the HOTTEST CHICK HE EVER SAW. He's going into minute detail about her tits and eyes and saying how fucking BEEEEAAAAUUUTIFUL she was and describing everything about her. You know, the standard anorexic magazine girl that all men seem to adore. They're all agreeing that she sounds perfect. This is all typical as to what you'd hear any bunch of blokes discussing. But then he goes onto say that when she opened her mouth she had the worlds worst voice and how "beautiful women just shouldn't talk at all"and then someone else says "women shouldn't talk at all" and they're all agreeing and clinking glasses and shit. Now, at first I thought it was a joke (and as jokes go it was a good one) but then I realised - when I dared to look up - that actually they were serious! This would be the stage where I almost throw up my lunch and give Lorena Bobbit a call. Bro sensed that I was going to go postal and we got the hell out of there before I said something to get us all in a stand off.

Anyway, it made me really sad because I'm realising that my standards of eventually wanting to be with a guy who isn't a complete dickhead and thinks of me as a human being is slowly washing out with the tide (like the acting talent in Return to the Blue Lagoon).

So with that in mind - I dedicate this week's musical monday to that particular breed of man who happens to be quite prevalent in the land down under.

Men Are Not Nice Guys - Grand Popo Football Club

I don't know much about these guys, but I got this little hilarious piece of info from a site (oops, really should have saved that link...)

Grand Popo Football Club is the merging of two personalities. It's the joining of an eccentric and an introvert; of a school supervisor (Ariel Wizman) and one of his students (Nicolas Errera). The former wears cowboy boots, dresses in pink & kills pitbulls with his bare hands! The latter is more reserved, a trained musician, and he dresses normally....

I love me a bit of eurotrash. Let me know if that radio blog thingy works for you.