Culture on the Cheap
Everyone Mark Your Calendar!
I saw this poster on the way to the post office this morning. After laughing my ass off (for too many reasons to list here) I thought to myself: I bet this
‘festival’ testosterone-a-thon would be fucking hilarious to check out.
I can already smell the gallons of Axe cologne not-so-effectively concealing the fruity vanilla undertones of B.O., stale beer and illegal steriods. Perhaps it’ll be ladies’ night? And by “Ladies’ Night” I mean the bartender will give women GHB gratis so they can spike their own drinks. This would cut out the ‘middle-man’ and save precious time often wasted on chit-chat or learning someone’s name.
“Borixon” particularly intrigues me. I imagine this word (phrase?) probably means something especially tough in Polish, but to my virgin ears it sounds like something you’d slather on a rash or use to clean your toilet. Seriously. He might as well call himself “MC Milky Discharge” (and his “Klymidia Kru”), “DJ CLo-ROXXX” or “MC Scrubbing Bubble”.
Say— I like the ring of that last one! I wonder if I can find a jeweler around here who can knock out a blinged-out gold medallion with my new ‘street name’ on it before the 19th? I best start looking now, time is running out!
Miss Heather (AKA “MC Scrubbing Bubble”)