how to get the girl. the australia day technique.
Generally speaking Australian men have always had a bit of a problem attracting their lady of choice, this is geophysical. The glory days when a bloke could roll up into the local dance half-shot and grab the nearest ranga* for a little intimacy are long gone. Almost long gone. There are pockets of resistance in this island girt by sea and Australia Day is their day.
Last year it was biff a Lebo, this year it’s grab a ranga. We wish.
Canberra is the capital of Australia. There is no surf in Canberra. They do have however The Canberra Australian Day Dance Festival for Singles and some of the old habits survive here. What follows may be distressing to some but in the interests of hard-line reporting we have decided to roll with the scoop in the hope that the unfortunate train of events depicted may be a lesson for the future, for the young.
< – – This is Tone and Julso at the dance and as captured by our photographer. He’s (Tone) been there an hour, she’s just walked in and nobody is happy. Tone is a go-get kind of fellow and he sincerely wants just about everything Julso has, except her wardrobe and hair colour. We are reminded here of that unforgettable scene where Tony sees Maria for the first time in West Side Story. We can sense the same yearning here, the brave half-smile, the troubled brow.
Trouble here is that Julso seems to have given our man the total blow-by. Check the body english – she’s gone – but there is some love here. She knows, he knows, and he has a master plan.
The problem here is that Tony sometimes comes in a little mob-handed at crucial times. He’s not about to slip her away out the back door and into the ute single-handed. Tone has asked a few mates to lend an assist here, just in case the lady has a change of mind on the way out. A bloke only gets one chance on Australia Day.
Pic (1). We re-join the couple as they make their exit from the function. Everyone is in a hurry. Everyone but Samson on the right. Samson is a local gentleman with impeccable credentials but a little too sun-tanned to get a ticket to the dance today.
He is seizing his chance here as the couple and their handlers sweep on by, that’s his mate Nigel on the other side of the mob with the cap by the way. Sammy and Nigel reckon there must be plenty of babes left inside after this lot have departed, ditto booze.
Tony is being super-cool, doesn’t have to raise a finger, and she seems happy enough to be headlocked out the function door down the steps and into the car. Buying a pizza takes longer.
More haste less speed eh?
Pic (2) of the series and who’s the only person since Cinderella to lose a shoe on the way out of the dance?
Tony’s snatch mob seem to be a little out of order here. Phillip – he’s the one in the lead with no hair and an air of serene transcendence – he wants the car door open now or she goes in through the window. Arthur, he’s the suit just behind Phil, is being very pro-active and has just given them both a helpful shove down the stairs, he has also slyly delivered Samson a knee in the gonads.
Arthur has a few issues in that regard, nobody gets into this dance wearing a T-shirt while he’s on a mission so he’s buried a kneecap where the sun doesn’t shine.
Tony is looking down for the missing footwear. He’s a souvenir man young Tone. Shoes, knickers, small remnants of ripped clothing – it all goes into the pool room.
So far so good. Pic (3)
Samson has decided to make a break for the door, Nigel (on the other side) has decided that the couple or fifteen rum and cokes someone forced upon him last night might be better deposited on the grass on the way in.
The snatch mob has now grown to ten and we can see the first signs of doubt with Julso. The footwork here shows that she’s thrown on the brakes. She’s thinking enough of this creepy meditationalist going for a quick under-arm fondle, plus where’s my handbag?
She’s also thinking that the only way these oafs are going to get me into Tony’s car is drag me.
What’s the best way to get a woman away from a venue and into the car of her favourite guy? I’m glad you asked.
You get her into a headlock, push her down some concrete stairs so she loses a shoe and when she trips up on the home run you drag her backwards towards the boy-friend’s ute, and just in case the doors don’t work (it’s a Ford FG) Jackson here on the left has popped the back-window. Handy fellow Jacko, and he never loses the shades. Bodacious move that.
So now all that’s left to do is bundle her onto the tray and tumble her through the back window – hopefully she’ll end up heads-up, then everyone will be laughing.
* redhead (orangutan .. ok?)
note: the head pic is not Julso, it just oughta be. Meet Alicia .
Reminds me of Texan foreplay: Git in the pickup bitch!
“you awake Mum”?
Pete, this is damn funny,nice little country you got yourself there.
hey dr. bob – it ain’t too bad, politics is last on most lists – politicians are like bloody blowflies
Blowflys is correct, its just that some thrive on cow dung while others just love dog turds.
Not this particular song linked below, but i heard this recording artist by the name of LADY on Howard Stern today…
Is it any more than obvious that the fact is not only you pathetic crackers got no play, but you’ve been chilln’ with the wrong women in the first place?…
Especially this kooked out barnzilla hippie guy that goes by the name of Mike.
Speaking of kooked out barnies…
Does not the fact that even the spouses of politicians do not want anything to do with their husband and or wife explain it all?
Natural beauty no longer matters in the simulacrum, for there is no such thing as the “natural” as it has been displaced by the artificial. Just as a female can conceal aesthetic or intellectual mediocrity with the purchase and adornment of product, so too can the male. Whether or not males are categorized does not matter. Traditional structures of perception and judgment no longer matter; temporal trends define beauty in the age of spectacle. Gone are traditional standards and notions of “beauty”; that which is judged to be beautiful will be determined by what is currently popular, and what is currently popular is dictated to the mindless consumer by commercial and corporate pathways of semiotic dissemination.
In other words, boner.
I don’t believe I saw thjat eposide of Yes minister!
you wanna be careful here Ted, these blokes surround and castrate the unwary –
As it has been since the beginning of time, beauty has always been a moving target. So, get with the now and forever ‘ya coddled douchenozzle.