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Outing Report: Straight out the Donga (Chariot’s 21st)

mASF post by intlzncster

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Outing Report: Straight out the Donga (Chariot’s 21st)
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mASF post by "intlzncster"
posted on: mASF forum: Field Reports Discussion, April 4, 2005

Went down to the Donga this weekend for Chariot’s 21st pissup party…Hoobie,
this one goes out to you bro…

If you want an informative FR with lot’s of routines and shit, look elsewhere.

If you want to have a quick peak into the strange existence of a couple o’
PUAs…then read on.

Cast of Characters, in no particular order:

The Great and powerful DJ Chariot
The Sword of Seduction
DJ Bockchoy
DJ Slick Benny
Grandma Nan
Hoobie – chucked a sickie


Fly down to the Donga, home of the all mighty Chariot, Thursday night…get in
and it’s pissing buckets out. Fuck. Hope for better skies tomorrow.


Wake to a beautiful day. Lattes and a couple of bitches later…me, Chariot, and
The Sword of Seduction are off to the driving range.

Chariot takes it long, I’m straight down the middle, and Sword of Seduction
tattoos some poor bastard on the 16th fairway.

We cool out a touch….and then are off to the Races. Picture the Kentucky Derby
– divided by 1000. All the fly honey’s in the house though. We’re on it.
Lining up betties left and right for the big party on Saturday. Chariot pulls
in two FINE Amazonian deluxe looking linda’s. He’s sorted.

Oh, and I lost a shitload of money on some fuckin’ candyass horses. My betting
strategy of picking the horse with the coolest name is just NOT cutting it. I
picked some horse named ‘Gutbuster’…sounds cool right? Well it turns out they
meant MY gut, because when that horse came out….it looked like it hadn’t been
feed in two years…scrawny mother fucker.

Another highlight was running into a drunken Chariot’s boss, who told me a
story about when he was in 7th grade, went on a field trip, and him and his
mates stood around and checked out the pubes of the only dude in the grade to
have them. This is DEFINITELY a country town.

We come back and head to Chariot’s parents’ house…his grandmother ‘Nan’ was
over. What a little playa that woman is. She roped me into dancing salsa in
front of a café later that night. She also amoged the SHIT out of Chariot. We
were both wearing French cuffed shirts with cufflinks at the races…mine were
particularly cool, so Chariot tells his mum and Nan to check them out. Nan
says, “beautiful. I didn’t know the kids wore cufflinks anymore. Chariot, let
me see your cufflinks. (he shows her) Oh. There’re nice (complete deadpan).
Did they come with the shirt?”
Nan 1 : Chariot 0 Hilarious! More glory to come from Nan…stay posted…

Friday Night
After some food and slick record spinning by DJ Chariot, his housemate DJ
Bockchoy, and DJ Slick Benny (otherwise known as The Saviour) at Electra, we
head out to “One Love” at the Bended Elbow.

I get into a 6 hour pool match with The Sword of Seduction, which starts off
with some drunk aussie dick trying to kill us, and then telling us, “I’m
usually not an agro cunt!...” Yeah right mate, have another Bundy (rum)….

The Sword of Seduction goes on a massive run, and proceeds to ride the pool cue
around the table like a fuckin’ horse….all the while yelling “I am The Sword of
Seduction!” Some enormous redheaded ochre aussie bloke gets pissed at him and
proceeds to fuck with him the rest of the night. We lose the next game.

So later on, I’m sitting with some curly haired randy hussie named Jess…Call On
Me (Eric Prydz remix) comes in loud over the speakers. Me and The Sword start
adlibbing to the music, “RSDEEEE!!!!...In the Donga! RSDEEEE!!!!...In the
Donga! RSDEEEE!!!!...”

Jess asks what RSD is and The Sword goes, “Real Sexy Dudes! RSDEEEE!!!!...In
the Donga!” Awesome.

After a quick makeout session with Jess, we are off to Globe nightclub at
2:30am….all the sexy bitches are up in our grills…Chariot quickly hops in the
DJ booth…I’m on the mike for the intro:

“Ladies and gentleman…for your listening pleasure…Straight out the

Motha fuckas gonna drop the pressure!!! (cue nasty baseline)

We groove for a while…Chariot gets head in the DJ booth (yes all those crazy DJ
stories are true!!!)

Girls are coming up left and right to the DJ booth, and everyone knows its
Chariot’s birthday.

About 4am we all leave. I kiss close Jess again and try to extract, but her
angry Dragaway friend puts some crimpidge in my plans for the evening. Chariot
leaves with 2 skirt in tow…destined for some prebirthday group sex back at the
lazy crash pad.

Saturday (the big fiesta)
Lattes and bitches again. Hoobie calls….he’s stuck on bootcamp in Sydney and
jealous as hell of all the fun we are having down Donga way. We tell him we
miss him and that we’ll fuck an extra babydoll just for him.

Fart around most of the day, hit the range again, Chariot actually buys a glove
this time (you cheap bastard). I went and bought a golf glove the day before
and Chariot is all up in my face calling me a gayboy…I have the last laugh as
he ends up with blisters the size of Sydney on his hands from yesterday’s
session. Just follow my lead boy…stop being so alpha. Bitch. ;)

So the big night rolls around, and we all get dolled up. The birthday boy is
dressed to the mutha fuckin’ nines. He’s got on a six thousand dollar Prada
suit that he bought on Ebay for sixty-five cents…looks tight as. Chariot
defers to my fashion sense by donning my white tie over his black one, the
results of this decision being completely stunning! You KNOW I had to throw
that one in there dude. Ha ha!

Finally, that old sage, the venerable Veroxii makes an appearance, rolling up
late for the party with a lady in tow…..he zipped in from Sydney in the
afternoon, took his beauty rest, and now has chosen to grace us with his

Everyone gives Chariot his spoils….DJ’s Bockchoy and Slick Benny give him a
record case to carry all his tracks to the States with when he heads over to
LA. His sister got him some COOL ass arty photos from the States. Veroxii, as
is his custom, got him two turn table covers that form the picture of a pair of
tits when put on the tables. Chariot opens that gift in front of his Nan, Mom,
Dad and extended aunties…it was a beautiful thing. I couldn’t get the gift I
wanted to get for Chariot in time, so I had to pull a substitute and an IOU…..I
like to be on point with that shit. Arrrghhhh! Perfection foiled again!

They’ve got a tradition in Australia where your family and all your mates give
speeches about you on your 21st. Three notables here:

1. The Sword of Seduction and DJ Bockchoy got up there and did a little skit
where they were spitting all the classic routines Chariot used to throw
down….who lies more, David Bowie, etc…. No one in the room laughed except me
and Veroxii…and Chariot of course.
2. Nans continues her thrashing of Chariot by getting up there and telling a
story of how Chariot always wanted to be Batman growing up. She then
completely tools him in front of the whole group (about 150 people) by making
him wear this dorky ass orange smock that was supposed to be some batman shit.
Score more points for Nan.
Score - Nan 2 : Chariot 0.
3. After all the speeches are supposedly done, the whole crew pulls a fast one
on me and calls me up to do a speech. I was like FUCK, impromptu shit for
people who’ve known the guy his whole life. I’ve only known him a year and
didn’t even get to plan my speech. I think I started off slapstick with “So…I
was born in the 70’s…” Said some other stupid shit. But afterwords I thought
of something I should have done, that completely slipped my mind:
A toast to Chariot (from the movie BLOW)
“May the wind be at your back…
“And the sun upon your face…
“And the winds of destiny come sweep you up to dance with the stars…
“Mate, I’ve only known you a year, but from me and all the people in this
room…here’s to many more." (cue group chugging)
Better late than never.

And with that the drinking kicked in full gear. Chariot’s dad ripps out this
fucking yard drinking glass (that looked more like 5 yards) which he had at his
21st and is passed down through the generations, destined for Chariot Jr’s 21st
sometime in the far future. Gotta love Aussie's. We all did our best
John-Belushi-a-la-Animal-House impression and tapped that bitch.

So, we are all around the bar doing shots in honour of Chariot, and once again,
Nan ups the anti. She rocks up and proceeds to shoot some tequila with the
rest of us. Bear in mind that this woman is pushing 90. She prolongs her
glorious run by downing a shot of tequila with the boys, throwing down the ol’
“but boys, I don’t remember how to USE the salt. Mmm-Kay?” Yeah right Nan,
you old pro, you.
Nan 3 : Chariot 0. Nan OWNS Chariot!

All night, the music was tight. Afterall, there were like 500 odd DJs in the
fuckin’ room.
Side Note: ‘The Midas Touch’ Remix seems to make the ladies asses shake in an
inordinately violent fashion with extreme regularity.
‘Call on Me’ came back over the airwaves, so myself, Chariot, and The Sword of
Seduction rocked the mike to the tune of ““RSDEEEE!!!!...In the Donga!
RSDEEEE!!!!...In the Donga! RSDEEEE!!!!...”

After the party, the stalwart few (or foolhardy depending on your viewpoint)
took to the Globe night club to further our festive endeavors. Veroxii headed
arm in arm with his women back to the hotel for a night of fun. DJ Bockchoy
too. The crew left was pretty much myself, Chariot, Chariot’s dad (hardcore
mutha that he is), DJ Slick Benny (The Saviour), and of course The Mighty Sword
of Seduction.

We all ended up getting particularly smashed…everyone ejecting venue except for
myself and DJ Slick Benny. We would come to rue that fateful decision to plow
on later in the evening (or at least I would).
The long and the short of it is this. We were tearing up the dance floor late
into the morning, when Slick Benny went to the bathroom for a tick, I bumped
with some dude and he turned and king hit my ass. He basically spun my ass
round back onto the floor ("you spin me right round baby, right a
record baby, round, round, round, round....") Never saw it coming…the punch was
caught between the techno lights at the wrong time. Knocked me on my ass and
broke up a blood vessel in my nose. Never even saw what the dude looked like.

Got dragged out by the bouncer soon after (way to grab the right guy dickhead).
Another bouncer told me he’d get me something to clean up with…yeah right mate,
I’ll just wait around for the coppers to fuck with me for the rest of the
night. I turned and started walking down the street…DJ Slick Benny came
running up and was like WTF??? He dragged me behind a set of buildings, found
a hose and hosed me down from head to toe. I looked exactly like Edward Norton
in Fight Club when he gets absolutely shattered. The good thing was I didn’t
have as much damage. The big downer for me is that I had blood covering my
beloved Bisonte Cream leather pimp ass lady killing jacket. Fuck. Slick Benny
quotes me as saying in a drunken bloody rage, “I only care about TWO
things...that jacket...and him...” We then tried to work out how we could get
back in the club and find that fucker…Benny was like, “It’s cool; We'll just
clean you up. I know the bouncer. We’re sorted…” We are dumb asses.

The Saviour then went and scared up a cab and took us home. Probably a hell of
a lot more drama than either of us wanted or needed at that point.

But what do you do? You take your licks...and go out to play another day.

So to recap the night, Chariot got bent six ways from Saturday, The Sword of
Seduction pulled off the usual (drinking 27x more alcohol than anyone else),
Chariot’s dad was sufficiently in the bag, Veroxii retired to his
rent-a-palace, I got cracked good, and DJ Slick Benny spent more time
acquainted with my blood than either of us had ever planned on.

We’ve seen our share of devils in this Donga toowwnnn… (credit: Shawn Mullins)

Hey at least DJ Bockchoy threw it home.

I was planning to take that randy filly Jess for Coffee and a screw on Sunday,
but now I too much resemble the Michelin man to pull my patented over the
shoulder caveman seduction technique with the proper alacrity. We texted and
made plans to hook up next time she is in Sydney. And so it goes.

All in all though, it was a positively Bacchanalian extravaganza.

Fuck Project Hollywood…The Donga is where it is at!

Donga Love,


Happy 21st Timmy!

Unless otherwise noted, this article is Copyright©2005 by "intlzncster" with implicit permission provided to for reproduction. Any other use is prohibited without the explicit permission of the original author.


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