G’day cobs, let’s get one thing straight, on me days off I like to hit the pub. Now, all you fancy pencildick bean counters would say that’s not the way to accumulate serious wealth but this is me story. So blow it out ya arse!
After a few Jack & Cokes I like to do a little boogie with lady luck. When it comes to punting I am king farken dick. I am a god. I never lose and if I do it’s cos the universe is waiting for a bigger pay day for me. Got it?
So one fateful day at me local, I was punting on the dogs. I felt something deep in my balls and knew this 50:1 mutt was my ticket to Balidise. So I printed out a fresh Watermelon and slapped it down.
Long story short, the cunnova dog came through and that’s when all me money troubles started manifesting (a word my court ordered psychologist told me to use ha ha). I was up 5g’s so what went wrong you may ask?
Firstly, I rang me boss and told him I was sick of his shit and he can shove the job up his ‘ole. This is what they call a cash flow issue.
Secondly, in me excitement I put a barstool through the big screen on the wall. They were like, Johnno mate you gotta pay for that or you’re done. You’re barred from here for loiiiiife. I said nahcunt, this is me local so that’s not an option. That’s $2-3k right there.
Not to worry I’m still up I thought. So I continue sinking piss and after about 10 drinks I accuse me drinkin’ buddy of looking at my old feller in the toilets ha ha. He wasn’t but it was funny.
Anyway, a mate’s a mate but I couldn’t have anyone thinking that koiiinda carry on is alright so I fed him some trademark Johnno oos oos. Dropped the cunny and the weak dog cracked his jaw on the urinal ledge.
Now this isn’t me first GBH rodeo so that’s an easy $20k to the lawyer to argue it down to just AOBH. Fark, rung me lawyer and he confirmed. Just like that I’m 23K down but they say money makes money – same is true of debt cob.
I decide to avoid me fate for a while. After all, I’d had a big win on the dogs and I wasn’t about to spend the night in a prison cell… or so I thought.
I jump the bar and grab a bottle of Jacks and tell the pricks to just add a stealing charge to me tab ha ha. I get in me work Triton, light up a quick pippy and make my way to the broths. You can’t waste a stiffy like this mate, I was flying.
Anyway, turns out me vision wasn’t exactly 20:20 and left what some might call a trail of destruction around Perth. Few fender benders, took out a coupla fences, few bins and well me Triton is currently stuck in some idiot’s lounge room ha ha. Smashed it.
Can I put an exact dollar value on how much debt I am in right now? No but a few basic calculations tells me that I’m probably in the six figure mark.
All because I won $5K on the dogs. That’s life mate, that’s life.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?