You Fat Bastard.

So I went to the Doctors the other day. He isn’t your stock standard GP either is my doctor, no I see a specialist because I’m special.

That doesn’t make him any more punctual than a GP mind you, although he has gotten better since the days I used to walk out on him for keeping me waiting an hour. Back then I’d wait for all the other hopeless cases like me to be seen by him only to get up and walk out minutes after sitting down in his office. It was like chess with he and I; a battle of strategy and wit.

Now days the wait is broken up by a few tasks that I have to do pre-consultation like blowing hard and heavy into a device that measures just how weak and feeble my lungs actually are. I do this three times and usually come very close to passing out, only to find my vital lung capacity has barely changed since the last time I was there. Talk about my iron lung.

Then I get weighed and it really is the money shot of the afternoon because it’s the most important of the lot, but not necessarily in a good way. It’s so important I will pucker my anus the entire morning leading up to the appointment, just so as not to loose a couple of hundred grams. I also have to try and remember if I had my keys and phone in my pocket last time because if so they should be weighed again. Hey every little bit counts.

Now those who know me will probably have noticed I am not quite All Black physique. Well not in this day and age where they are excellent weightlifters first, rugby players second, but back when Terry Wright played rugby people mistook us all the time despite him being in his mid twenties with a stache and me, nine.

I was a whole 2kgs lighter this time round which is great if you’re competing to be the biggest loser but not for me, so given my fast approaching runway model weightlessness I agreed to meet with the dietitian.

Normally I don’t meet with dietitians because if there’s one thing I know its how to eat. I always think that being a dietitian must be a depressingly sad job most of the time because you’re only ever going to be dealing with two types of people; the morbidly obese or the morbidly thin. Imagine throwing a party for that lot.

However this time I caved due to Mrs ClubDes being there with me and who rather strangely, doesn’t subscribe at all to the theory that I know it all. I don’t know why, I’m always telling her how I do. Anyhoo, I was pleasantly surprised because said dietitian turned out to look like Amy Adams and who doesn’t want to be told how to eat by her?

Not that I really listened to watch she said because, well, she looks like Amy Adams, but I did gain one titbit of info; that the powdered high calorie drinks I make myself daily should be a lot stronger than I’ve been making them so there you go, never let it be said I don’t follow instructions well.

Thus the end result of this story is that I’m now part of the wankers club at work, one of the many guys who walk around shaking a powdered drink in a manner that says ‘I’m so buff I can unwrap a Mintie with my buttocks, because I drink this powdered shit’. Only theirs are drinks called ‘Ripped’, ‘Shredded’ and ‘Mega Muscle’, whilst mine looks like baby formula.

I mix mine in a Celebrity Slim shaker too, just to really shit up those around me who think I should ‘fatten up’.

It’s ironic though, that like so much of my spectacular life, I just don’t fit with society on the whole weight thing. Whilst the rest of you fat bastards are counting your calories and buying 97% fat free everything, I have to try and eat like a fat kid at a party, all day, every day. And trust me, I fucken do.

And yet, I still look like Terry Wright. Oh well.

Terry was a skinny man amongst men.

Happy Birthday Bruiser.

Happy Birthday big boy. In celebration I decided to do some of your favorite things:

I made love to Michael Jordan who despite his superior height advantage was very gentle. He wore your Petone rugby jersey and I that singlet Tong got you that time because it just seemed right. Afterwards we listened to Vitalogy, ate several bags of Big Uns and watched Robbie Keane’s 100 Best Goals & 350 Easy Misses. At some point Dave Grohl dropped by with a 8 inch double ended dildo and then shit really did start getting freaky deaky...

The things I do for birthdays round here aye?

Dave and I only moments before things really kicked off..

Happy Birthday Marco.

In celebration of this special occasion I decided to combine as many of your favorite things into one fun filled day.

I made slow rhythmic love to Michael Schumacher whilst we listened to For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. He wore a Manly Sea Eagles jersey and I your favorite Ford tee-shirt. Before that we had role played as David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen and fought like it was 1985, before having ze make up zex. Later that evening, under the stars, we spooned bare back on Michael's Ferrari shaped day bed whilst snacking on Kingston biscuits. He read to me from Stephen Hawking’s ‘A Brief History of Time’ whilst I pointed out Uranus.

I can’t wait till next year to do it all again…

Michael Lee Roth, of Manly.

Its A Dog Eat Dog World

I almost didn’t write this because I don’t want to be one of those people that whacks off about their pets, but we now have a dog.

Now I’m not really a dog person. For a long time the only thing remotely ‘dog’ that I was ever interested in was doggy style, but that pretty much dried up when I got married so it was inevitable I guess that we would eventually get a dog.

Okay so I’ve always like the look of some dogs but then I feel the same about Asian schoolgirls; it doesn’t necessarily mean I want to own one. Some dogs, I admit, are quite smart and quite cute but I have always felt that essentially, your average dog is a dumb animal as it relies on man to amuse it and thus lacks the individuality of a good cat.

We already have cats and the process of getting them went something a little like this: cat one was cute and cuddly for a bit, highly amusing then annoying and by default, boring, so we got another. Once she’d gone through that same evolution process it was time for a dog, or so the missus reckoned.

It probably should be noted that this was flawed logic from the start as both Mrs ClubDes and Junior are allergic to cats. Yet we have two.

At this point I played the Daddy card and said no. Contrary to the grandiose plans of her indoors, our house is not huge nor is our yard and as there was no way in hell I would allow us to get a small dog (the cats of the dog world), we sure as heck weren’t getting an animal that was 90% muscle sinew, 10% dog called Satan.

But then we met Charlie.

Who was actually called Freddie whilst at the SPCA but who calls a dog Freddie, seriously? He was neither mop nor Clydesdale in size, rather somewhere in between and although he was dead scared of me initially – an impression I try to cultivate in everyone I meet for the first time – he was rather handsome and the other two vote holders in the house adored him, so what else was I to do but cave.

So now we have a dog (and have had for a few months now). Someone at the SPCA must’ve seen us coming because he is for the most part, a nutter, so he fits in perfectly in our little corner of suburbia. Oh and sure we’ve had all the wonderful things they never tell you about before you get a dog; the whizzing on the bed, the cacking everywhere, the chewing of everything and the occasional social erection but who hasn’t done those things whilst out on the piss aye?

The twice a day walkies rule that I laid down as being a pre-requisite for getting him fell by the wayside after a couple of weeks, as did the ‘not on the furniture’ rule that Mrs ClubDes decreed. But then we all know rules are meant to be broken, that’s why the wife and I no longer use the safety word…

There is a downside to all this and that is now I am a dog owner I get a lot of dog talk from other owners and requests for doggy dates etc. These are people I remove from Facebook immediately because my feelings on dogs have only changed ever so slightly; I love ours but I have no intention of hanging out with yours.

Or your Asian schoolgirl for that matter.

Charlie, the exhibitionist.

Liar, Liar.

If there is one thing I’ve learnt in 30 something years of making my own coherent decisions it’s that lying has a time and a place.

Doing so whilst in Police custody, whilst under the suspicion of murder, is not one of those times. But yet, two wankers subsequently found guilty this past week claimed that they did just that, because they were ‘scared’.

Now I know a thing or two about telling a fib. I’ve done everything from claiming my name was Thad to professing to have invented the question mark and they were just the lame ones. But I’ve never cracked one when accused of something serious that I never actually did, especially when the result of that lie could highly likely lead to stand up sodomy in the communal showers.

I remember one such occasion in my college days. We had this regular reliever who claimed he had been a Special Forces soldier in the UK before coming to NZ to be a relieving teacher. Yeah right. To this day I still can’t picture him as the red beret he claimed to be and of course I challenged him on it regularly because if there was one thing I knew at the age of 14 it was army shit.

Anyhoo, we had him for PE one day. Have I told you about the time I got caught reading a porno mag whilst at PE? That’s another story entirely. As this guy wasn’t a real teacher he had to get changed with us and my mate Tim O’Niell decided that it would be hilarious to hide his keys under a stack of cones in the gym. Tim did tell me he had done it too but as he was a bigger bullshit artist than me I took no notice.

This also happened to be the last period of the day so whilst we were all on our way home our highly trained killer of a substitute was frantically looking for his house and car keys. When he couldn’t find them he went to the assistant principal and of course he only had one suspect didn’t he – the smartarse military historian; me.

The school called home and my father-in-law, he who looked to pin everything on yours truly, gladly marched me and his thickest, blackest black leather belt back down to school. He didn’t need the belt to hold his pants up either. Into the APs office I was shoved and expected by all in attendance to produce said keys, from my anus obviously, because I’d already had the pat down at home.

Needless to say shit got emotional; I was crying, Mr Red Beret was crying and yet I was adamant I hadn’t taken his fucken keys, because I hadn’t. Oh sure, I knew who had but that wasn’t the question was it? I didn’t want to drop Tim in it but after about half an hour of this and coincidentally about the time my step father started taking off his belt, I dobbed him in.

Tim turned up with his Mum and confessed. The keys were returned and the whole sorry saga ended with him getting a kick up the arse all the way to the car by Mrs O’Niell and my step father giving me an encouraging “Okay so you didn’t take them but you fucken knew who did!”

Tim and I laughed it off the next day and he reckoned he was cool with me doing the dirty because I’d held out for as long as I had which made the whole joke funnier. And that probably would have been the end of that but a few years later karma came back to haunt me though when I walked in on him masturbating. He even found that funny.

Notice that never at any stage during that entire incident did I claim to have witnessed who took the keys before being raped by the real culprits and who later returned to my house, put a docking ring on my chopper and threatened to cut it off if I told anyone what I had seen. It’s a good thing I didn’t because that would have forced me to confess to taking the keys.

One legged Dean Mulligan claimed that as his reason for confessing to the murder of Marice McGregor this week. His lawyer admitted that yes, his client was a compulsive liar but this last story of his (there had been four others) was so fantastical, so far out there it could actually be true. The fuck it was.

How this guy got his day in court is beyond me and how his lawyer had the gall to stand there and try and defend him is equally perplexing. It took the jury four hours to find Mulligan guilty and I think it was a miracle it took them that long.

We never did see Mr Commando back at school after the whole keys thing either.

Guest Post - Top 5 Comic Book Movies

Fellow fan boy and one time lady boy Lancey 'Lillian' Craig wasn't happy with my Top 5 last week and instead contributed his own. In the best interests of fairness - and not because he's threatened to publish the photos I gave him that he promised he'd never show anyone - I've allowed him the first ever guest post here on ClubDes:

1. Conan.

Wicked comics back in the day and Arnold played a mean Conan. Although seeing Grace Jones as a warrior colleague for him was a real disappointment; yes, it did turn me on a little but not in a pleasant way. I loved it though when he banged the witch then threw her in the fire! It also blew me away how he started as an enslaved scrawny kid turning some wheel, then 20 years later he's still turning that same damn wheel but somehow consumed a helluva lot of protein at the same time! Krom!!!

2. Batman

Of course seeing the originals in the younger days I thought it was the shit! Having the Dark Knight hit the big screen was a wet fantasy of mine come true!

3. Iron Man 1 and 2

Being released in an age where Iron Man can be brought to life with the best Animitronicallyorgasmic known technology to date made this movie. If this was released in the earlier days we would have had Robocop on fishing lines with the actor being Tourette’s kung fu master Steven Segal or Jean Claude God-damn! Thank god that never happened.

4. Superman.

I can't rule out the Man of Steel. He was a powerful figure in my life. The comics I read of him must have numbered in the hundreds and what kid never fantasized about being him?! Even to this day I'm trying to figure out how he turned back time to save Lois Lane. Can someone please give me the mathematical theory behind spinning the world round and round and what if he had spun it clock wise as opposed to counter-clockwise???

5. Flash

I'm almost ashamed to say it only because I know now how terrible the film actually was but as a kid you don't critique story lines or cinematography. The graphics back then looked so real and the Flash was so cut I started sticking plasters on my TV screen. I loved the Flash comics growing up and when the first movie came out I watched it over and over again.

Top 5 - Comic Book Movies

I saw the promo for the new Green Lantern movie yesterday. Now I like Ryan Reynolds because he reminds me of me and is on my ‘Top Five I’d Go Gay For’ list but the movie looks very gay and not in a good way. Which is a shame because comics are awesome and thus by proxy, so should movies about comics, right?

Sadly, no. There’s been a real big push on comics being made into movies – there’s about a dozen out on release now - because as far as the companies that make movies are concerned most of the job is done; the characters, their background, the script and the fan base is already there. So it’s a license for them to print money really.

Until they get it wrong and then they piss off fan boys like me, especially when they take artistic license with the stories and just fuck it up for everybody. You wonder how they get it so spectacularly wrong sometimes but more often than not, they do.

Stan Lee is the man behind most of Marvels characters and if I was him I’d be telling these guys to sort it out. “It’s my arse” I’d say to them, “So pull your finger out!”

Still, this is worthy of a Top 5 so break out the moisturiser and tissues lads because here we go. In no particular order other than the first being top...

1. Batman Begins / Dark Knight

I’m cheating by putting these two together but they are equally as good (although the DK is probably my fave of the two). Tim Burton started the Batman franchise and he along with Michael Keaton made a pretty good fist of it until they gave up and other directors just fisted the franchise. Thankfully Chris Nolan and Christian Bale hadn’t given up on him and made these two flicks which reminded us all that Batman is a dark character with equally dark motives and in doing so made an adult movie for adults, the way it should be.

2. Iron Man

I was never an Iron Man fan but Jon Favreau and Robert Downey Jnr captured the essence of a good comic book movie in the first installment. It had the back story, the drama and the humour and of course, Gwyneth Paltrow. As good as it was though - and I really did enjoy it - I haven’t seen the second one yet because I really don’t want to find its complete cake after this fantastic effort.

3. Blade Trilogy

Again, bit of a cheek me putting all three together but tough titties, it’s my Top 5. Before the kids these days were getting their hormones all in a tangle over the likes of Robert Pattison, there was the original black bad ass mofo, Wesley Snipes, playing the day walker Blade. And who just gets on with it basically; slicing and dicing his way through vamps without a pout, a tear, or love triangle in sight. Amen to that. Oh and Ryan Reynolds? He was in this too.

4. X-Men: Wolverine

I like the X-Men movies but again, liberties with the story telling get on my tits and these guys have taken some despite there being over 50 years of solid material to work with, the fuckers. So I’m going to go with the Wolverine one because it has Gambit in it and he’s my favorite mutant. It also has Ryan Reynolds as Deadpool and that’s another reason I won’t be watching Green Lantern because there should be some rule about playing two super heroes i.e. you can’t, bitch.

Note: The guy who plays Cyclops in X-Men turned up as Lois Lanes boyfriend in the last Superman movie. Not cool.

5. Kick-Ass.

A film that captures the dream all us fan boys harbored, to be a real life super hero. If you haven’t seen this then you must, if only to meet the memorable Hit Girl, the eleven year old vigilante daughter of Big Daddy who delivers such classic lines as "Okay you cunts, let's see what you can do now". Hey it’s okay to be turned on by someone that age if she’s a killer with a potty mouth right?

Honorable mentions:

• V for Vendetta (Natalie Portman. Say no more)


• Sin City (deadly little Miho)


• Watchmen (which was cool right up to the big blue schlong bit)


• Spiderman (can’t remember which though but probably the one where Kirsten Dunst has a wet top)


• The Punisher (the Tom Jane version, all the others blow).