DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR.

This photo sparked the flame for this post of mine detailing delusions and how easy they are to catch.

I was stalking Leb's page to see him tagged as old mate in the background, looking on at the chicks as they posed their little tits out.

You can imagine the scene, and if you cant...then ill set it:

**** It is friday night at Woodport in Erina and you have had a few rum and cokes after you polished off your six pack of melon cruisers (i dont even know if they make them in melon flavour it has been THAT long.)

The steam is rising from the dancefloor.

You look around and see some ripped piece of ace in a tight off white t shirt with blue writing on it that isnt in times new roman font (HOT!!!)

He looks at you, you look at him...he winks and licks his lips (which thankfully also removes the dried piece of sausage sizzle that he had at the pub on his way to the wooooddddiiieeeessss courtesy bus)

You giggle and point him out to your friends, they are so jealous that they immediately head to the bathrooms to reapply blue eyeshadow and bitch about how you always get the hot guys.

You wait there, Usher's OMG is pumping above and you feel in your element.

You turn back around to see if muscley mchot is still looking at you, but no he is looking at himself in the one piece of reflective surface in the whole joint.....his homeboy's shades that he is wearing....at night.....inside.....

'dayum!' you say and think at the same time.

Anyway your gurlz come back from the b-rooms and you decide to hit the D-floor.

You hit it, getting trolleyed and trashyyy under the multi coloured lights that surround you like you are dancing in some sort of dero- rainbow.

You retire to the bar to get a drink and simultaneously get covered in bourbon, cum, spit, vodka orange and hair extensions.

That dont matter to you because Riverside motherFUCKAZZZ just came on and you reeeeallllyyy want to dance!

But some dude who looks a mix between your dad and a serial killer comes up to you and your gurlz facez and asks for a photo.

Yeah sure! you all chime, and begin the formation that you see above.

Whilst in this formation you have never felt so good about yourself in your life. But a tiny bit vulnerable due to the dude in the white t shirt with blue non times new roman font and the sleeve which i think has flames up it who is staring at you and grabbing his nuts at the same time.

SOOOO HOOOTTT!!

You lose concentration for a second but then regain it and SNAP! goes the flash, you think you blinked but you cant be sure because your back and nostrils were so strained tighter than what you were before the age of 13.

You rush over to the photographer who lets you look at the photo, and all agree that the fake laughter was a good idea.

Turns out it was a good idea, coz that hottie with da body comes over, whispers in your ear:

"hey, want to suck my dick behind red rooster?"

to which you reply,

"Only if you buy me a large chips after."

moral of this fairytale:

Even disgusting old mates with intentions to kill who hang out at woodies on friday nights stalking young nubiles think you look like a fucking idiot.