Monthly Archives: January 2016

Soul Calibur 2


My friend and I are so addicted to Soul Calibur 2 I’m just a fucking gun at the game now and we play for hours at a time and then he gets angry and sits on me. But I just put up with it cos I’m better than him and he’s shit. Nah he’s alright. But nah he’s shit and it’s my current top skill so I’m embracing it as something to be proud of. Top skill on the resume bruh. Nah I don’t even have a resume. I just Kramer it and rock up at offices and help sort out the printers. I’m a boss with printers tbh. I feel the G spot where the paper jam is and make it feel young and full of vibrant ink again. I think I’m gonna print some new stickers hey. Just to give out with all the orders. And if you kids behave well and keep your hands to yourselves the whole car trip I’ll drop a temporary tattoo pack for you guys of all the mascots. But no stopping for ice cream so y’know, it’s a sacrifice. Choose your own adventure (I’d choose ice cream sandwich I think).


– Lonely Kids Club

Two short stories about my parents buying me clothes (Part 2)


Part ii) My mum

My mum used to let me skip school to buy clothes with her on Oxford Street and that was cool, but she would push me into buying weird clothes like size XL T-shirts even though I was so thin and undeveloped I looked malnourished. One time she decided I should buy a printed pink hoodie, which I decided was a bit much, but my mum convinced me to buy it. On the train home, a group of high school girls decided to turn my seat into part of a six-seater and referred to me as “pinky” for the whole train ride. I had pretty low self-esteem so just sat there with my head down while they talked shit on me about being weird or gay or whatever. So I got off and walked back from the station and a car drove by, saw me, then did a swift U-turn in order to yell “FAGGOT” out of their window. Charming. So I kept walking cos h8ers gonna h8 but then they came around the block again and yelled “FUCK YOU YA FUCKING FAGGOT” a bit more aggressively. I think at that point I realised I had two options here. I can take the hoodie off or get fucked up. But that’s when I realised, I can’t stand up to bitchy girls, or try confront dudes yelling at me from a car, but fuck it man I can take a hella beating to defend my right to openly express myself. I’d rather get bashed than give in to that shit. So I just kept walking at the same pace like I didn’t even notice and the car slowed down. Aw shiet. My heart skipped a beat, then old mate floored it and sped off in the ever dangerous streets of East Killara. Fark. People are dix.


– Lonely Kids Club

Two short stories about my parents buying me clothes (Part 1)


Part i) My dad

My dad took me to one of those xemoxpunkx stores when I was younger thinking it was normal or whatever so I freaked out about getting to buy kewl new clothes and just got the entire outfit on the mannequin. Unfortunately for me the mannequin was wearing a black t-shirt with a sleeveless hoodie, these weird brown golf pants and a thick printed white belt that was worn OVER the hoodie. Fucking hell. I looked like a Jewish Joel Madden. Joel Madstein. I wore it on a double-date a few weeks later, coupled with so much hair gel that a leaf got stuck in my hair about 10 minutes into the date and the other dude happened to be Nick so of course he didn’t tell me until afterwards. To my credit I ended up “dating” both girls, although in hindsight, I never actually dated either of them in any meaningful way. One was exclusively on MSN and the other one only went on one date with me then lost interest (Most Warwick sounding thing I’ve ever written) probs cos I wore that fucking mannequin outfit again. Her dad took a photo of us on his disposable camera and I’d do anything to see that photo now. But anyway this worked out badly for me in general cos I ended up buying all these weird goth clothes and tried to casually wear them with Target clothes until I was like 20. It’s all still on Myspace profile bruh.


– Lonely Kids Club