Fundraising Chocolates & Norwegian Fuckwits

It’s been fundraising month at Junior’s school which has meant I’ve been the annoying guy at work trying to bully you into buying over priced chocolate.

I’ve hated what it’s made me become. Not because I want to sell the most, but because for every box I can offload on my colleagues I can rest easy in the knowledge its one less my son has to try and peddle door to door to rain coat wearing, internet surfing strangers.

It’s a strange world we live in where schools, the place you used to learn about stranger danger, now subliminally promotes it by heaping ‘sell at all costs’ activities on kids. Nobody actually says to go knock on some sexo’s door mind you, but it’s implied when they start rewarding kids who move the biggest quota.

Some little shit sold 40 odd boxes last year and apparently he’s on track again to do so this year. You would think the folk he sold that to a mere year ago would have seen him coming this time round, but no. The smarmy bastard.

Needless to say my boy had grandiose dreams of shifting a similar amount. He wanted to not only knock on doors, but stand outside a supermarket selling something that the punters could buy cheaper inside. For me, the protective father yet who wants to give his son the room to grow and experience life, it was a lose lose situation.

So I turned to peddling the shit. Thankfully both I and Mrs ClubDes have wonderfully supportive colleagues and between us we moved enough choc tinnies to appease our offspring, who, it turns out, must share a class with likeminded parents because he has surged to the top of the selling charts in his room.

So that solves one problem. But are you, like me, just a bit weary of the whole chocolate fundraiser thing? It’s near impossible to work through any workplace these days without someone trying to flog you some morbid obesity causing sugar saturated product, all in the name of the children. How much more chocolate can the workplace around you take, for fucks sake?

Norway probably has some room for chocolate. It certainly has a shortage of intelligence, especially amongst the good ol boys that came over recently and nailed a few of our endangered birds whilst on a hunting trip. Makes a change from equally helpless and harmless whales I suppose.

It would appear that the fruity fish eaters knew what they were doing and had prior knowledge of just what they could shoot and what they couldn’t. The wankers made a video while they were here, just to capture for prosperity what a bunch of hard core survivalists they were.

Eventually our Government decided the fuckwits would be charged, but only if they come back to NZ. Yeah, good one. They might be thick but they ain’t that thick. Thomas, Bennie and Bjorn aren’t coming back any time soon and will be laughing about this one in their fire fed hot tubs for quite some time.

But I have a solution.

Let’s send an expedition of our own to shoot a few fat birds over in sleepy old Norge, because it would be rude not to really. Corporal Willie Apiata can lead the touring party now he’s back from ObamaStan and he can take as many of his bad ass mofo mates as he needs to strangle a few Norwegian Blue’s as they sleep in their Norwegian wood houses. Shit em right up.

Now that’s a trip I’d gladly sell more fundraising chocolates for....