Bucky Done Gun

I saw some free range chickens run around trying to rub their crotches up against each other through extraordinarily tight shorts on Saturday night. I have not witnessed such a homoerotic display in a long time. We were from the blue and yellow free range chickens that beat the red and white free range chickens. They had implored the bright green free range chickens with some nifty ritualised groping to win by 1 point, and were thus rewarded with a prize of being able to openly hug each and not be called gay poofter homo cunts by the over-dressed young men seated behind us.

The young men were having a ‘night out’. A ‘night out’ from where I am not sure, but clearly it was a place where they were all well trained to be versed in the discourse of free range chicken baiting. They clearly knew better than I that all action occured along an axis of gay poofter homo cunting. I was stupidly describing events on the field of play in terms of other references to the spectacle. The chicken who had his head taped up was PC webcam and the IT guy doing the taping was built. Another one looked like Knight Rider, but was ugly and was clearly not famous in Germany. Lastly, one should have had a longer mullet and that is why he wasn’t get groped enough from the other chickens. I know the blue and yellow free range chickens think they are Eagles, and likewise the red and white think they are not pink, but Swans, well I can assure everybody that from the perspective of the spectacle these are merely suggestions implanted subliminally during advertisements for beer and overpowered taxis. Support for your team is irrelevant once you are through the gate; it is just ‘support’ and the order is: be enthused! So I supported the free range chickens and cheered the spectacle. My sister, who is visiting from Perth, loves the free range chickens and used to have one in our backyard.

Later we went to a fundraiser for breast cancer research. Then to Bad Kids. We were bad kids.

Book launch tomorrow, 6 for 6:30. Then Different Drummer on Glebe Point Road at 8:30. W00t! I have my leather jacket back just in time to be ‘academic’. They are not letting me work it… lol