Man Who's Been In Relationship For Three Weeks Overdoes It On Valentine’s Day

‘Gee, that’s a bit much, hey?’ said Eva Moloney (23), the three-week girlfriend of Brandon Martin (25), as he presented her with three bouquets of flowers, three handwritten poems, three blocks of chocolate, and three flights to Fiji on Valentine’s Day.

Why three flights? Well, to celebrate three weeks together, of course.

Who will take the third ticket? According to Brandon, ‘love.’

As happy as Eva has been over the last three weeks, she hasn’t been placing an absurd amount of thought into her burgeoning relationship with Brandon. For one, her job as an accounts receivable clerk with Brisbane financial services firm, Cumm & Flam, has really been heating up.

And for two, it’s literally been three weeks. Mild constipation can sometimes last longer.

But unfortunately for Eva, her blissful existence in the fog of a relaxed, early relationship was cruelly shattered by Brandon truly overcooking it on the 14th of February. She had been expecting a nice dinner together, maybe a card, but even then that could have been pushing it.

Yet this incredible overkill is probably pretty indicative of some fundamental differences between Brandon and Eva. Her blank face as Brandon presented the fruits of his romantic labour indicated as much.

‘Fuck you, St Valentine,’ Brandon grumbled to himself as he realised the gravity of his mistake, before noticing the string quartet he’d hired to play Elvis’ classic ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ out of the corner of his eye.

‘Get out, get out, you’re not needed,’ he hissed, desperately trying to ensure Eva saw neither the quartet, nor the skywriting which boldly painted the blue Brisbane sky with the sickeningly sweet words of ‘Eva + Brandon 3ever.’

Normally, Brandon could resolve conflict by doing nice things. But this might just add to the problem. As this bloke has stuck his foot in it, and Eva is grappling with dating a creep, it’s times like these you remember just how important quality independent journalism is to freedom of thought.

The Obiter, however, is neither quality, independent, or journalism, so we get a free pass.

More to come, if we want.

Victorian Gangland Lawyer ‘Informant 3838’ Revealed As Source Of 21 Savage’s US Deportation

As they say in the classics, the plot thickens. And thicken it has, with an explosive new development in the ‘Informant 3838’ case, concerning a former Melbourne defence barrister turned informant.According to documents freshly leaked to The Obiter, Informant 3838 didn’t simply report on gangland crime in Victoria. The informant went one step further - and gave the key information that led to the arrest of British-cum-American rapper, 21 Savage.

It appears that alongside her work representing Melbourne’s peak crime syndicates, Informant 3838 was also the go-to legal advisor to Mr Savage and many other ‘Atlanta’-based rappers on issues such copyright, immigration and how often to include background vocals that go ‘straight up,’ ‘skrrt’ or the ever-reliable, ‘gang gang.’

Indeed, Informant 3838 herself appeared as backing vocals on several of Mr Savage’s tracks, intermittently whooping and hollering.

When approached by the Victorian Police to inform on her gangland clients, it seemed only natural that the next step would be to act as an Informant for the US Immigration and Customs department. This is an obvious choice, considering the organisations’ equal global standing.

As a police informant, Informant 3838 will be entitled to a range of special privileges, not least of all hearing 21 Savage’s mixtapes one week before they are officially released.  

When approached for a comment, Mr Savage was incensed, exclaiming ‘bugger’, ‘cor blimey’, pish posh’, ‘bleedin’ ‘ell’, ‘Brexit’, ‘Jeremy Corbyn’, ‘Keira Knightley, ‘bad teeth’, ‘tea’, ‘double decker bus’, ‘colonialism’ and then stormed out with a fiery ‘toodaloo’.

Returning for one last comment, Mr Savage remarked ‘this is complete codswallop, and I will not have my honour besmirched in such an uncouth manner. Cheerio!’

Skipping away, whistling ‘God Save The Queen,’ we finally knew the right decision had been made.

Some more to come.

Opinion: G Flip Is An Industry Plant Designed To Destroy Australian Culture And I Will Be Personally Responsible For Her Downfall

I have just one question for you, treasured reader: Do you believe in G Flip?

If your answer is ‘I do’, then I have some tragic news. This isn’t Peter Pan, and G Flip isn’t Tinkerbell, and everything you thought you believed about the supposed Unearthed ‘superstar’ is a fantasy propagated by Culture Kings, Ben and Liam, and their loony lefty cronies.

Let me hit you with some stats. G Flip has played 45 minute sets at Splendour and the Laneway main stage, and is set to perform at the massive Reading & Leeds Festival later this year.

Before 2019, G Flip had two songs. Now, she has four.

So what the fuck happens for the other 32-38 minutes of her set?

Does she do covers for a while? A quick check of her setlists says no. Does she engage with the audience for an ungodly amount of time? This isn’t a TED Talk! Does she scat sing for a while until everyone just fucks off? Possibly.

Whatever happens, it’s weird and I don’t like it.

And what’s perhaps weirder is the faux-punk skater chick style she’s got going on that looks like a Baby Boomer Executive’s fever dream of a millennial, as if Avril Lavigne didn’t (regrettably) go out of fashion over a decade ago.

But what is most likely the weirdest part of all of this is the constant promotion G Flip receives from Triple J over the airwaves and the internet. She seemed to just pop up out of nowhere around a year ago and suddenly had multiple interviews, a short documentary video on the Triple J Youtube page, and songs in constant rotation throughout the day.

This steady stream of promotion has rarely slowed since her ascendance, and for me, there’s only one logical explanation for this.

Triple J, a public body, has been bribed by Culture Kings to try and make chicks wearing backwards snapbacks a thing again.

While G Flip’s music is fairly benign, it’s not what I take issue with here. It’s the fact that she represents Culture Kings’ continued hegemony over Australia and its government, people and trends. We need a royal commission.

Hell, we need God.

Heck of a lot more to come.

Super Bowl Protest! Activist Music Fan Bravely Takes A Knee During ‘Moves Like Jagger’

Saucy wings. Chilled beers. Tosses, tackles and a whole lot of Tom.

The Super Bowl is a day when the American people put their differences aside, pick them up again and then move them to a footballing context.

In recent years, the football has become just as much about what happens on the field as it has what happens, well still on the field, but before the on-field action starts. It’s on the field but not the game, it’s like the pre-game stuff. Which happens on the field.

Protests and political activism have injected football with an unprecedented cultural relevance. While Colin Kaepernick’s stand against police brutality caught the activism world’s eye, the trend towards harnessing the power of sport to spread a message has not stopped there.

During yesterday’s clash, sports reporter Buck McSport was not who he said he was. In actuality, Mr McSport was Pitchfork music critic Aristotle McMusic. Mr McMusic had posed as a Superbowl correspondent in order to enter the press area.

However, upon gaining access to the high-profile zone, Mr McMusic waited until the halftime show before revealing his true motivations.

Maroon 5 have engaged in acts of musical brutality ever since that one good album about Jess or Jane or someone. When they were booked for the fabled halftime performance, Mr McMusic knew he couldn’t stand idly by and watch Adam Levine try to act all sexy and that.

Mr McMusic decided to take a brave stand by not standing at all. As the rest of Atlanta and, indeed, America stood and watched Maroon 5’s performance with a patriotic ‘meh, I liked their first album’, Mr McMusic took a knee in protest.

As Levine and his merry me njammed to ‘Moves Like Jagger’ with all the charm and electricity of a crumpet, McMusic bowed his head and kneeled.

‘Some call it inflammatory,’ McMusic told The Obiter. ‘I call it resistance.’

Unfortunately, due to the swirling crowds around Mr McMusic, his taking a knee lead to him being swamped and trampled. Hospitalised with several broken bones, the Pitchfork writer claimed he was ‘brutalised’ for his act of ‘undeniable musical bravery.’ When we pointed out that taking a knee in literally any crowd is likely to lead to physical injury, he called us the ‘Greta Van Fleet of satirical internet writing.’

Cold. No more to come from this prick.

Scott Morrison Hopes Sick Wally Lewis Tattoo Will Let Him Get In The Mind Of ‘Ordinary Blokes’

As the Federal election looms, Prime Minister Scott Morrison is sparing no expense his attempts to win the votes of Queenslanders.

In a major policy speech in Brisbane’s iconic Paddington Tavern this week, the embattled leader laid out his vision for what he’s already calling ‘a big fuck-off tat of the King of Lang Park down my neck.’

‘This vision for Queensland, that of an inking that will keep even the drunkest dickheads at the Eatons Hill Hotel out of my fucking face, is the kind of bold policy initiative that Queenslanders will not see from a Shorten Labor Government.’

The Prime Minister then used a series of aggressively homophobic slurs to describe Shorten, including one that was clearly made up on the spot, before biting an ibis’ head off, Osbourne-style (that being rock artist Ozzy Osbourne, rather than the Valley’s popular watering hole, The Osbourne).

‘Welcome to Paddington, dickheads!’ the PM bellowed.

The neck tattoo, of a naked Wally Lewis drinking a schooner of unfiltered Brisbane river water, was only the beginning of the proposal.

At press time, ScoMo had entered the fourteenth hour of a further sleeve tattoo session that he hopes will allow him to wiggle further into the mind of ordinary men and/or blokes.

Holding back tears and gripping his wife’s hand, Morrison panted, ‘To understand your average Aussie bloke, I must become him,’ as he bore the excruciating pain of the tattooist’s needle.

‘I’m down to earth. I’m a man/bloke. I’m listening to the working class. If that means getting skulls, snakes, a Southern Cross, and Ned Kelly’s famous last words ‘Such Is Life’ incorporated into a sleeve tattoo that covers most or all of my arm, so be it,’ Morrison whispered through deep breaths.

After the session, an exhausted Morrison was crying into Jenny’s shoulder, crying ‘Who are you, dammit!’ as the tattooist in the dimly lit Bankstown studio begun work on a huge, fair dinkum ‘Fuck Off, We’re Full’ graphic across Morrison’s stomach.

More to come from the Prime Minister’s pained screams.

Fifth-Year Student Looks Forward To Explaining That No, They’re Not Graduating At The End Of The Year

Amelia Selachii studies Law.

After four gruelling years of a mild superiority complex and low contact hours, she still remains in high spirits despite the fact that nearly all of her schoolmates have now graduated uni and are working well-paid jobs and some travel to really nice places with their new money and endearing sense of success.

Not that she cares about such things, she says to The Obiter, as she went out to stare creepily at the throngs of 17-year-olds checking out UQ with their Mummies and Daddies.

‘The hardest bit,’ she says between bites of her Burger Urge burger, the same one she's bought nearly every week for 4 years (Pineapple Express, of course), ‘is when catching up with friends, I have to explain the difficult concept of when I will be graduating.’

We heard her on the phone with a relative. Some choice quotes illuminate their conversation.

‘Yes, I'm still at uni.’ ‘No, I'm not graduating at the end of the year... no, not at the end of next year... no, yeah, halfway through next year. Yeah. 5 and a half years. Yeah. A half. Like one semester? No, not this semester. Yeah I know.’ ‘Anyway do you still have that money you owe me.’

As Amelia commences the gruelling rigor of that will be waiting her in her fifth, full year (but not her last year), we can only wish her luck on her journey, and hope she doesn't spend too much time telling first-years that they're 'so young,’ and that she's 'so old,’ because in reality she really is only 23 and that is quite young when you think about it.

She's just too old for uni.

More to come for another year and a half.

UK Exchange Student Returns A Pale, Broke Mess After Spending Entire Scholarship On Ket

The friends of Law student Nick Phillips (20) excitedly welcomed back their well-travelled classmate today after six months studying abroad under the UQ Exchange programme.

But after some extensive cultural engagement, Phillips is not the same man that left them in September of 2018.

It seems that within a few short months’ stay in Leeds, the UK’s premier cultural hub has stolen Phillips’ melanin, money, and significant chunks of his brain.

Robbie Murray, a close friend of Phillips, says that the state of his mate was quite a surprise. Robie verbosely expressed his concerns in an intimate interview with The Obiter.

‘Yeah, he looks like shit, haha.’

While previously a committed student, Phillips says that his time at the University of Leeds was more about learning a new culture than memorising course content. In pursuit of this goal, Phillips emptied his wallet each week into the waiting hands of Leeds local Timothy Wilson, who when asked of his profession, described himself as ‘the UK’s fastest growing entrepreneur.’

In a prepared statement, Wilson declared ‘Yeah he’s a good lad. You want some spice?’

While Phillips is satisfied that his use of the UQ Exchange Bursary was in accordance with the Scholarship’s stated aim of assisting cultural enrichment, critics allege that getting fucked on gear is not in fact a cultural experience.

These claims, particularly from Phillip’s parents, who are owed $6000 by their son in the aftermath of his exchange, have fallen on deaf ears. No literally, Nick is deaf now.

After much criticism and demand for action, UQ Abroad issued the following announcement.

‘Ket’s fucking sick cunt.’

It sure is.

Plenty more to come. Anyone got a note?

722 New Brisbane Indie Bands Formed In The Week After The Hottest 100

Creativity is at an all-time high in the suburbs of Brisbane, as the traditional post-Hottest 100 explosion of indie bands is tearing through the garages and SoundCloud accounts of the river city this week.

Approximately 722 new bands will be formed this week, with hope in their hearts, guitars in their hands, and hastily-penned lyrics that look to balance a laidback, summery vibe with Edgar Allan Poe levels of pessimism regarding their relationships.

Such lyrics may include ‘I buy a drink and I buy you one too. You drink your drink and you drink mine too,’ or the endlessly poetic ‘My champagne dreams are your vodka nightmares.’

With Ocean Alley’s success at securing the Number One position, there has also been a fundamental move toward indie bands featuring a surfy, jam-band vibe. One such band, one of the 722 united by their use of the phrase ‘Yeah, I could probably do that’ when listening to the Hottest 100, have called themselves ‘Pacific Grin,’ although they also like to call themselves the cheeky nickname of ‘Specific Gin.’

Bazinga!

The members of Pacific Grin, after a Sunday Hottest 100 party at their mate’s house in Auchenflower, all rendezvoused next to the pool, brains flowing with creative energy, blood flowing with pretty disgusting amounts of pretty disgusting alcohol.

The pretty disgusting alcohol in question was their mate’s hastily-prepared goon punch, which coincidentally has inspired their first single, ‘Jack’s Goon Punch,’ which will be a danceable indie rock number that nevertheless addresses the enduring loneliness of being a 21-year-old adrift in this society.

Sound familiar? We’ve never come across this before, so we were pretty excited to interview Nick Lemon, the long-haired, mustachioed bassist regarding Pacific Grin’s plans.

‘Yeah, just writing, and working hard in the garage. We can’t play too much because my sister upstairs gets pretty pissed when I crank up the bass. So plenty of tinnies and ideas flowing mostly! Haha. We’ll be sweet.’

Wow. Let’s ride with these fine young men and one woman (because according Nick, ‘chick drummers are hot’) all the way to the top!*

*No more to come, as one day after our interview, Nick got bored and the band broke up.

Breaking: It's Actually Fucked How Long These Holidays Are

Holidays; days of holi. It's like Swotvac, without the exams! Sounds good, right?

Wrong. I am so fucking bored.

At what point did society decide that the 14-week grind of sleeping in air-con for 2 hours occasionally deserve a 3-month sabbatical?

3 months is like one-quarter of the year. If you ordered one-quarter of a chicken for lunch you'd be fairly full. Let me tell you this: I'm all chicken'd out, bitch.

Enough of the cucks who claim to have filled the time.

‘Ooooh I'm working full time because my Dad has a job and now I have a job at his job. Ooooh. I get coffee every morning and think I’m working hard. Oooh. I get a lift to work with Dad but a bus home so I feel like a working stiff. Oooooh.’

Hey, my Dad doesn't have a job. He's a masseuse by trade and he just got laid off. You know why?

Yep, because it's holidays and everyone is so fucking relaxed. No need for a massage. Unless the massage is the natural massage provided by the gently breaking waves down by that beach near Burleigh Pavillion (I always forget the name). So now my Dad, bless him, is pretty stressed about being made redundant. And the stress of unemployment has made him so sore that he needed a massage. There is no deeper, more tragic shame than that of a recently fired 51-year old masseuse trudging back to the parlour and asking Alexander for 'the one I used to do so well.'

They didn't give him a discount. They just gave him a massage. And the saline damage to his cheeks caused by a flurry of wet, salty tears rolling down his face. The only wet, salty tears rolling down my masseuse father’s face should have been the tears of Poseidon as he swam in the rolling, thunderous waves at that beach near the Burleigh Heads Surf Club.

And don’t get me started on those ‘other ones’ on holidays. The ones who actually go overseas? Ever heard of a plane crash you reckless clowns?

It's legit still like a month til classes. Laneway hasn't even been. Sing about that, Mitski.

Anyway, probably no more to come. Anyone want to grab lunch in the city tomorrow?

‘Triple J Should Support More Aussie Music,’ Says Man Who Just Called Amy Shark A Slut Online

The Hottest 100. It’s that special time of year when people who know things about music get to be even more insufferable than they already are. But despite the big push from Triple J for Australian artists to perform well in their annual music countdown, for Linus Devron-Smith (22), it isn’t enough.

‘Triple J should exclusively be putting Aussie music in the countdown,’ Linus told The Obiter via our text line.

‘Unless it’s Amy Shark. She fucking sucks. She fucking sucks balls. Adore? What was that about?!’

Linus has often had no issues making pres a bit uncomfortable by ranting about the lack of female representation in the Hottest 100, but is careful to note that his passion does not extend so far as the Gold-Coast based Amy Shark, who he just labelled a ‘slut’ in a Facebook comment on Music Feeds because I Said Hi beat God’s Plan.

“I love Australian artists and I love female Australian artists even more. In fact, I love all females, even those who don’t play music. But music females? Australian music females? They’re the tightest shit I’ve heard.’

Linus’ relentless use of the term ‘female’ did not go unnoticed.

‘But honestly, Amy Shark is like a fucking sadboi but if a sadboi was a girl.’

Linus admits that he didn’t listen to Shark’s debut album, the timeless Love Monster because the only album he listened to in 2019 was Travis Scott’s Astroworld.

‘It’s got to go back to the old days when true alternative Aussies were winning the countdown. Like last year!’

At press time, Linus had just been shown his first picture of Ms Shark.

‘Oh, actually I guess she’s not that bad.’

Hopefully no more to come from this young man.