Bad Girl's Advice Shut Down Over Dog-Fucker Post


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The Human Zoo - The Perth Cougar




Today, Jodi has opted for the “classic MILF” look: tight designer jeans, knee-high brown leather boots, and a white tank top that is doing a superb job of highlighting her enhanced bust. Her pleasant musk and rattling jewelry attract the attention of men like the pied piper of creeping perves.


A young man fixes her a coffee while thinking to himself, “if I make this coffee good enough, will she touch... it?” Probably not mate. Likewise, a well-dressed property developer executes a shameless turn & stare to satisfy himself that Jodi is indeed the complete package.


Let no one say that Jodi isn’t at the cougar ranch for non-essential matters. She is on a mission to buy throw rugs and small ornamental pillows that annoy the living fuck out of her family. She nonchalantly browses the goods at Bed, Bath & Table while periodically checking her cougar-gram.


Out of the corner of her eye she spots an unwelcome stray wearing pink JUICY tracksuit pants and Ugg Boots. Jodie stares at the intruding riff raff like she looks at her empty glass of Vodka & Soda, she texts her friend, “since when did the Quarter become the Motorplex ew”.


Suddenly, a pack of boganlings burst out of the toilet and run to their mother. It is like a mummy blog has come to life. Jodi is traumatised. A Big W kids fashion bomb had gone off and she is disoriented by the internal ringing of poverty. She needs a glass of Veuve Cliquot like Bernard Tomic needs a Red Bull.


Jodi jumps in her Range Rover and meets her friend in Claremont. While checking her make-up she backs into a trolley boy. If only she could hear his minimum waged cries for help over the sound of Adele blaring from her system.


While catching eyes from Polo in the City looking trust funders she remembers a pesky errand she had. Not to worry, she calls her daughter, “have the school order you a taxi darling”. She turns to her friends, “the au pair needed to fly back to the Philippines for a funeral, you just can't find good help these days”.


On her way home, she swings past the Boatshed to buy some affluent-meat. It’s pretty similar to the sort of peasant turd-steaks you buy, except, well, not povo, ya know?

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How To Survive the Great Perth Cold Snap



1. Dress like you are heading to Mount Everest Base Camp

What do Patagonia, Kathmandu and The North Force of anything all have in common? You haven’t been there, pal. Your life may be like a booze, Netflix and Uber eatish Groundhog Day, but you sure as shit look active. Posing next looked so puffy.

2. Get into a Heated Argument about Global Warming

If you’re a Baby Boomer climate change skeptics you know that the fact they had to use a heater this morning as irrefutable proof that climate change science is a load of shit. After all, you’ve been through way more winters, and don’t reckon it’s too bloody hot. Wake the sheeple up.

3. Don’t Wear Shorts

Even though you would push your own mother out of the way to get to a pair of shorts, you must concede that some days require a pair of trackies. Don’t go crazy and wear your good Court trackies, just that flogged out pair you pinched from Big W in 2014. That is the Perth way.

4. Drive Like a Fuckhead Somehow

You can get it braking, you get it skidding, you can get it ploughing through a house, a cold wet road needs a classic Perth act, and the Perthiest act is shit, shit driving. Fuck knows how this keeps you warm, but with the number of people doing it, it must work?

5. Sacrifice Your Ute to the Sinkhole God of Smoko

“Thou sinkhole, who art in Wanneroo, hallowed be thy name, they tradie come, smokos not done, fuck this shit I’m grabbing a coupla bevans”. This is a bit of a new one for Perth, but hey, it sure beats standing around with a stop sign pretending to work.

6. Magic Mushrooms


Get a handful of Balingup’s finest mushies into your trip-hole and before you know it, you won’t remember how to use your phone let alone have a firm grasp of temperature. Make sure you have friends around, and avoid the temptation to navigate South East Asia and end up on a Thai beach playing bongos.

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