Marshas Treehouse

OK, I should probably leave this one to Bitter Barbie, the suicide bomber of truth, but its really getting on my tits.

What is it with Melbourne fags?!?

They are they MOST shy and reclusive of pack animals, and truly not very friendly.

I had thought it was me, but after a week away at Byron Bay where I was belle of the frickin ball, I am now coming to the conclusion that the problem is elsewhere.

So my friend Joe and I were at the Prahran Pool this weekend. Spectacular weather and all that, and quite a social outing. Lots of fags, splashing around enjoying the fine weather. But do they mingle? Do they talk between groups? Do they socialise? Do they meet and greet? The answer is a resounding NO!!

For some bizzar reason, this city seems to have been socially caught at the age of about 13. They are all stuck in their junior high school cliques, hanging out in their respective tree houses, dis’ing each other and not talking to strangers.

The whole city needs a sticker slapped on it that says “Gossip Happens!”, I shit you not. It is little wonder that certain individuals have fit into Melbourne like the ebola virus into a rabid fruit bat.

Let me tell you right here, and I say this with conviction, there is not a one of Marshas’ tree house gang that I would shag if my life depended on it. There is something seriously NOT hot about a guy that squeals like an eight year old girl when he gets his hair wet.

Its a good thing I have my blog to talk to.