What Not To Wear On The Premises

We don’t have a dress code here at ClubDes par se, anything goes as long as you don’t make a complete Muppet, or tit of yourself and even then we'll let it pass if it's hilarious, but standards have been slipping and something needs to be said.

I’ve lamented many times before the disconcerting trends that are creeping into men’s fashion but I fell I need to reiterate these given that it seems these same issues are now impacting on the last bastion of homo-eroticism we have; sport.

Take these geezers, the Team Leopard-Trek cycling team who all appeared on stage in front of the world’s media at their team launch wearing shabby looking suits and scarves. Yes, scarves.

Scarves are things you wear when a) it’s cold outside and, or b) you’re off to support the team at the stadium. Sadly, more and more dudes are wearing scarves that are neither warm nor supportive with all manner of garments for all manner of occasions and it’s deeply disturbing. Have they never heard of ties?

These guys spent the whole time looking uncomfortable and I don’t blame them, they look like poofs. They are, after all, top cyclists, who are more accustomed to wearing outfits that are tight, revealing (sometimes both) and in the case of guys with pony tails have fooled many a young man into the slow car follow from behind thinking that ‘that chick has one hell of a set of legs on her’.

Off the sports field there is the Arabic variation of the scarf which I like to call ‘terrorist chic’:

Now there’s only one dude who can pull this kind of look off and its Corporal Willie Apiata in downtown Kabul, because let’s be honest, the man has ‘kick-ass’ written all over him.

But the padded gusset wearers of world cycling are not alone. Footballers, at least the fruity continental ones, have taken to wearing this, a scarf cum neck ring called a ‘snood’ which sounds as ridiculous as the players who sport them look:

The reasoning is that it prevents neck injuries bought on by the cold weather. Like what, whiplash?

In my day if your neck was cold you did one of two things; put your collar up which no one but the guy who loved himself a little too much did anyway or, you opened a big can of harden the fuck up and just got on with it.

Not satisfied with being quite possibly the ugliest man in world football, Argentinian Carlos Tevez not only sports the snood but has since taken to his with some scissors to prove that he is right hard ponce. Clearly he fancies the snood, but likes his circumcised:

Lastly and not sports related but equally of concern, is the current trend of young men wearing tight, knee length jean shorts. Where the hell did that come from? Lads, for the sake of you gnads, please leave some sag around the bag and let’s get away, real sharpish, of this trend to wear shit tight.

Because the next thing you know you’ll be pulling on your sisters / girlfriends / Mums cut-offs and that definitely is not what to wear, not in this establishment.

You have been warned.

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....

I Love You, Man

I don’t know about you lot, especially the ladies, but this much fussed over photo of Corporal Willie Apiata just gets my dick hard and not in a gay way, because I am straight.

I love this picture. So much so that it’s going straight into my big book of ‘Men That Make Me Feel Like a Little Girl’.

Maybe it’s the Vietnam vet in me but seeing soldiers looking right hard just gets me all moist with good memories. The government might be pissed because this picture got published but you can bet Willie himself will be quietly stoked, if ever there was a Facebook profile pic you always wanted to have amongst all the OE photos you’ve taken then this is it.

And as for making his mission all the more dangerous I ask you, is the kind of guy you would want to mess with having seen this photo? Fuck. No.

There is so much happening in this pic that it may be a little too much for the untrained eye, like yours, to see it all. Luckily I can pick it like a broken nose. Take for instance the open door on the APC behind Willie and his wingman which just screams “we might be in Afghanistan but we aren’t locking our ride for any of you fuckers. If you want to come and try and steal it then be our guest...”

I would try it on, but only so as to have my arse handed to me by Willie, but not in a gay way because I am straight.

Willie is also not wearing a helmet which just says to Osama and his lady boys “I know you poofs have snipers everywhere but I reckon you couldn’t hit the side of a barn so do your best. But just know that when you miss, I’m pointing my peace maker in your direction and pulling the trigger until it goes click, muthafucka”.

Even if a rag head did get a round on target I reckon the beard would stop it. Now I’ve seen a lot of action, having served three tours in Nam and I know when a man in the line of fire grows a beard like that then shit has gone feral. That look says to me that Willie and his men are sleeping with all three eyes open and the safeties off.

His mate might have the sharkies on but not our Willie. This also says to ‘Stan “It might be as bright as fifty bastards in this godforsaken country of yours but I like to look long and hard into the eyes of the men I skin alive with my bayonet.”

I also like the way he’s holding his rifle, halfway between ‘bad ass’ and ‘bad ass mofo’. If I was gay, which I’m not, I would definitely sleep with Corporal Apiata. Like if had to sleep with a man or the kidnappers would kill my whole family then I’d pick Willie.

I love you, man.