POLS Tutor Who Gets Half-Hearted Laugh At Weak Pun Immediately Launches Into Stand-Up Set

Hudson Tye (31) doesn’t experience a huge amount of validation as a postgraduate academic investigating performative masculinity in A Bug’s Life, nor does he receive particular acclaim as a POLS1102 tutor. His halfhearted jokes and rambling nature make him a particularly mediocre tutor.

But today, that all changed. Because at 11.21am Friday morning, Hudson finally landed a joke. And suddenly, the carpeted floor of Michie 201 became his stage, bored students became an audience of comedy enthusiasts, and his voice became a comedy weapon of with incisive power.

Discussing the role of postcolonial analysis in Pixar films, Hudson explained that postcolonial worlds often created difficult implications outside of their colonial history. And then, in an ostensible attempt at humour, he suggested students should be careful their mail is ‘going to the Post Office - not the Postcolonial Office!’

Surprisingly, the comment was met with a light exhale of breath from most of the class, and two students even summoned a half-hearted laugh. Hudson was fucking stoked. He was even more delighted when a cap-wearing young man up the back of the room muttered ‘good one,’ despite its obvious sarcasm.

In an instant, Hudson’s mind switched to stand-up comedy mode. ‘I’ve got them in the palm of my hand,’ he thought. ‘They’re eating it up.’

Prowling the stage, strutting like a 1980s New York stand-up comic, Hudson decided to just go for it, and threw out a joke about ‘A Shark’s Tale’ and ‘Finding Nemo’ being pretty similar.

He ignored the muted reception, and somehow found a microphone. He began to aggressively tap it, asking ‘is this thing on?’ Without missing a beat, he dived into a deeply-misguided bit about how women take a while to get ready. Or in his words, ‘bitches be taking their goddamned time!’

Reports indicate he is still standing in the classroom, trialing new material to dead silence. So let’s take this as a PSA. When your tutor cracks a joke, put your head down. Save them. Save yourself.

Truly hoping there’s no more to come.

‘I Have Enough Friends,’ Thinks Bloke In Tute Who Truly Doesn’t And Should Really Branch Out

‘Fuck off, I’ve got heaps of mates and don’t need to talk to any pink-haired goob in this 9am tute,’ thought fourth-year UQ Arts student Blake McNamee (21), as his small group gathered around a desk to discuss the readings he was rapidly realising they’d actually read.

However, in a recent development, sources close to Mr McNamee indicate that he actually doesn’t have that many mates.

‘Like, if you were having pres you’d invite him, but by no means would I say we’re close,” said a high school classmate of Mr McNamee’s, Ryan Moore (22).

‘He just brings so remarkably little to the table. Like, yeah, he can reference Rick & Morty, and he’s pretty reliable to pick up some beers, but he’s a pretty nothing bloke.’

Despite Mr McNamee’s dismissive decision to watch 2005 Ashes highlights on his phone throughout the entire group discussion on the fluidity of gender roles in E.T., The Obiter can report that the student, who did not remove his Reds 2011 Premiers cap for the entirety of the tute, should have used this chance to branch out.

When a group member suggested they catch up for coffee before next week’s tute, McNamee snorted and said he ‘doesn’t drink coffee, sorry.’

Newsflash Blake - you should. Your diminishing interpersonal skills and scarcity of human interactions that don’t involve a beer bong should serve as a sign that maybe Oak, the non-conforming heteromarxist in the beanie who tried to add you on Facebook, might just be the last chance you’ve got.

They’ve given you a chance, Blake. The only question is: will you give them one?

Hopefully more to come from this tragic figure.

Council Regulation Requires All Brisbane Vehicles To Immediately Report To Coro Drive If Raining

A new regulation passed by Brisbane City Council has reformed the wet weather traffic conditions for Queensland’s capital.

In the case of even the slightest drops of rain, even darkish clouds, any resident of the Greater Brisbane area who owns a vehicle will be required to stop what they’re doing, jump in their car and make a beeline for Coronation Drive.

‘I don’t care if it’s sex or open heart surgery,’ Lord Mayor Graham Quirk said in his daily morning address to the townsfolk below from the clock tower of City Hall.

‘If there’s rain, you stop and get in the car. No ifs, buts, or maybes. You get in that car and hurry to Coronation Drive.’

The mayor continued as chickens squawked and children balanced pails of water in King George Square below.

‘If I so much as hear a rumour that anyone travelling from the western suburbs to the city is able make it to their destination in under two hours fifteen minutes, I will fuck them literally.’

Pushing on from what seems dangerously close to a threat of sexual violence from an elected official, the regulation has been meet with an accepting nod from the general populace.

‘This makes sense,’ said everyone.

Sidenote - I literally wrote this on my phone while sitting on Coro. Write about what you know, am I right. Haha. I heard Kate Tim and Marty from beginning to end. It’s like I listened to an audio book called Wednesday. Smh.

Anyways, more to come. Lmao, hope no one has to get to the airport.

'I Hate Gentrification!' Says Man Who Would've Been Stabbed Immediately In 1998 Fortitude Valley

‘Gentrification sucks!’ has been the rallying cry for many young people afraid of soulless development, and it looks like private school alumnus and Architecture student, Adam Beckett (22), has decided to throw his voice into the fray.

‘Just, like, keep West End weird, y’know?’ he said, to no-one in particular, his smooth legs encased in corduroy trousers (even though it’s literally the hottest Autumn we’ve ever had). Adam’s definition of ‘weird’ likely extends to milk crates and cafes which offer three different varieties of oat milk, but we’ll let that one through.

Fortunately for Adam, but unfortunately for the rest of us, he can be safe making these comments in 2019 Brisbane, because it’s pretty fair to say he would’ve been stabbed to death within minutes upon entering 1998’s pre-gentrification Fortitude Valley.

Before the spectre of the Howard Smith Wharves took over the river, and the TC Beirne precinct brought some fresh respectability to the Brunswick St Mall, the Valley was actually dangerous at one point, with some genuinely unsavoury characters. Now, the most dangerous thing in the Valley is eating a bit too much cashew chicken at King Of Kings, or even worse, being told that the Asian BYO you’re going to doesn’t allow beers!

Adam’s rolled-up T-shirt sleeves and Converse sneakers ensure he cuts a striking figure as he tells The Obiter that ‘megacorporations will be the end of us. We’re just losing the heart and soul of this city,’ conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d be losing his liver and spleen as they bled out into the gutter outside the Jubilee Hotel in 1998.

It’s objectively good for Adam’s safety that he can go to Southbank and not be accosted by gangland members and street prostitution, and it’s a relief for his parents that he can travel to New Farm without falling ass-backwards into the violent, drug-fuelled, low-rent culture which persisted throughout the late 1980s.

But that won’t stop him giving the middle finger to builders as they construct a new set of cookie-cutter units on Boundary St, as if they had anything to do with the decision.

Stay brave, my brother!

No more to Krum.

Suit-Wearing Mooter’s Brief Spell Of Self-Esteem Crushed By Realisation They’re A Nerd

Third-year law student Bryan Murray (20) suffered a serious disappointment midway through the first round of the King & Wood Mallesons Senior Moot today, as he realised that mooting is for fucking nerds.

Buoyed by the opportunity to wear a suit for just the third time since his Year 12 Formal, Bryan waltzed into the Moot Court with the kind of arrogance only a private school boy of imminent yuppie status can maintain.

However, when the MJ Bale-clad Senior Counsel stood to deliver his introductions, he noticed his learned friend opposite was a massive dweeb from his Property seminar. And that’s when it dawned on Bryan.

He, too, was that massive a dweeb.

‘Like I literally have just taken on an extra assignment for no fucking reason. I don’t even get any extra credit or some shit,’ said an irate Bryan in a hot, sweaty interview with The Obiter.

‘Only a complete dorkatron would even entertain that idea.’

Despite this harsh state of affairs, Bryan says he will still do his utmost to defend the appellant, Ms Joanna Allan, from the frankly spurious claims of defamation brought by opposing counsel.

And looking to the future, despite the setback of realising he’s an absolutely unequivocal fucking loser, Bryan is looking forward to picking up a new tie from Charles Tyrwhitt and participating in the Duke & D’Arcy McMullen Constitutional Law Moot.

And maybe even some new spectacles from Bailey Nelson!

What a freakin’ four-eyed lame-o.

Jonathan Thurston Annoyed The ‘Other’ King In The North Gets His Own HBO Show

Jonathan Thurston, retired North Queensland halfback, rugby league legend, so-called King in the North, the Emperor of Emerald, the Monarch of Mackay, the Tsar of Tsownsville, and the Regent of Rockhampton, has shown his jealous side today by declaring it ‘fucked’ that another King in the North gets his own HBO show.

With Game Of Thrones returning to Foxtel screens on April 15, attention will again be on Jon Snow, who was declared King in the North by the northern lords and bannermen at the end of season six. However, footballing icon Thurston was declared King in the North by The Courier-Mail over an eight-year period, which he claims entitles him to at least ‘three’ HBO shows.

‘It’s just sort of bullshit, aye. How many premierships does he have?’ said the retired North Queenslander, who has publicly struggled with the idea that rugby league is not as popular in Westeros as it is in Australia (although social badminton is making a huge comeback in Dorne).

‘He gets this beautifully shot, epic HBO series about himself, and here I am, the true King in the North, and I’m stuck breathing the air of unequivocal dropkicks like Fletch & Hindy, and Paul Gallen.’

Thurston has compared his life experiences to Jon Snow’s, and come to the personal conclusion that ‘JT’ has had it far tougher.

‘Yeah, he might have come back from the dead, but we came back to win the 2015 Grand Final. And we didn’t even need Littlefinger and Sansa to ride in with Knights of the Vale or anything, we just needed Ben Hunt to drop the ball,’ he exclaimed, before laughing in that weird, weird way.

‘I’ve been called a bastard more times than I can remember. But he gets a whole battle named after it? If you could name your rugby league matches after the names you get called on the field, there’d be the ‘Battle of the Rat Cunts’ every second week.’

However, despite his public protests, his Foxtel viewing history indicates Thurston is still pretty keen to catch up on the show by April, after having stopped watching halfway through season seven.

‘Full credit, Daenerys arriving back at Dragonstone is how I feel arriving back in Townsville. Although Townsville has less dragonglass, and more glass. Like, ice. Meth. It’s a real problem.’

Plenty more to come.

Greg Heffley Contracts Cheese Touch From Unprotected Sex

When his phone rang early Tuesday morning, Greg Heffley hardly expected good news.

After all, he was a wimpy kid. And outside of his diary, which he religiously maintained, there was nothing much going on in his life. Nothing to be excited about. But equally, no reason to be afraid.

All that was about to change.

‘Yeah, who is this?’ muttered Greg, throat still sore from a night of heavy drinking. His Mum and Dad hadn’t been home for a few days, and Greg hadn’t needed a second invitation to suckle down two bottles of mid-shelf whiskey.

It was a Monday night, after all. He had needed something to do.

The voice on the other end of the line was clinical, informative. But a tremble of emotion whilst stating the words ‘test results’ betrayed the bad news to come.

‘I’m -- positive? I can’t be. I fucking can’t be, there’s no way! Check again. Check again, I’m not positive!’ yelped Greg, his happy fog of hedonism slipping away as the doctor calmly repeated his sentence.

‘Greg, you have tested positive for the cheese touch. I’m sorry. We’ve run the tests twice. You have contracted an aggressive form of the cheese touch.’

Greg thought he was a brave kid. He thought he was strong. But that strength slipped away faster than the tears rolling down his cheeks as he grappled with the reality of being afflicted with the cheese touch.

He thought back to all the anonymous, unprotected sex he’d been having. It didn’t matter when. It didn’t matter who. But somewhere amid the haze of contorted, naked bodies, someone must have had the cheese touch.

‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve had it for?’ asked Greg, the doctor growing increasingly impatient with Greg’s incessant questioning.

‘We think no more than two weeks,’ he replied.

There it was. Clear as day. It was Fregley, thought Greg. It must have been Fregley. Fregley gave him the cheese touch, cursing him to a life of ostracisation from those who didn’t have the cheese touch.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ begged Greg, hoping to hear of some miracle cure or new treatment, but knowing he’d only hear bad news. It was worth asking anyway. Prolonging the inevitable was going to have to be Greg’s new motto. He knew he should get used to it.

‘I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do. Now remember to stay the fuck away from me, I don’t want the god-damn cheese touch!’ yelled the doctor, ending the call.

This is my life now, realised Greg.

The cheese touch does not giveth, it simply taketh away.

No more to come.

Desperate Theresa May To Appear On ‘Deal Or No Deal’

A tired and downtrodden Theresa May has made a truly bizarre move, in an attempt to secure some sort of Brexit deal. After repeatedly being knocked back by the EU, and then her own parliament, the British PM is reportedly at breaking point.

May has allegedly contacted Channel 7 entertainer and former lover, Andrew O’Keefe.

‘Come on Andy, do it for me… Do you remember the summer we spent in Corfu? My body shakes at the thought. Surely you can convince the Channel 7 executives to give you one more episode?’ May was heard whispering into a burner phone.

‘Can’t you just come on The Chase?’ asked a groggy O’Keefe, who had clearly just woken up, because Theresa had forgotten about time zones.

‘No Keefey, darling, I must get a Deal, I must. I must.’

It is unclear at this point exactly what Theresa May hopes to achieve from this appearance. However, political commentators theorise that any winnings will be beneficial to the UK, and be classified as foreign aid after they inevitably leave the EU without a deal.

‘I can’t believe that I will have to subject myself to playing court jester for the colonies to secure my precious deal,’ muttered the quasi-delusional Prime Minister.

Scrawlings found on a bus window (the 379 from the city), believed to have been left by May, have been discovered to proclaim ‘Briefcase 26’.

Political reporters believe this is linked to Andrew O’Keefe famously shouting ‘Booyah!’ whenever briefcase 26 is opened.

More to come.

UQES Legitimately Planning To Murder Someone For Their ‘Cluedonomics’ Ball

The UQES have drawn considerable intrigue to their Economics Ball, with their theme of ‘Cluedonomics’ inspiring memories of long, tedious board games that are won almost exclusively by some dickhead uncle.

But the ‘Cluedonomics’ Ball will not simply be a night of drinking, board games, and more drinking.

The Obiter can exclusively reveal that, as a consequence of internal documents leaked by a whistleblower, we understand the UQES plans to graphically murder a ball attendee in order to fully commit to the ‘Cluedo’ theme.

The attendee will be chosen at random, and after they enter the ballroom, will be promptly taken away and murdered. But who will do the murder? With what weapon? And why is a uni society genuinely suggesting they’ll kill someone? These are all questions we asked the UQES President, Wallace Fitzsimons.

‘It’s all about commitment to a theme, and we think by facilitating the brutal murder of a ball attendee with a rope, a hammer, or a gun, we think we can achieve the best value for all attendees. Except for the one who was murdered, of course,’ indicated Wallace.

‘The victim probably would’ve been murdering his liver by the end of the night, though! Ha ha.’

The Queensland Police Service have proved remarkably blase about the entire matter, muttering they ‘couldn’t get a ticket to the ball,’ and that it was ‘such bullshit.’

Regardless, ball attendees have seemed somewhat nervous about the prospect of being brutally hung by the neck, shot, stabbed, or bludgeoned to death, whilst trying to enjoy some sort of juice-oriented cocktail (like, just give us a beer, seriously).

‘Obviously, a murder would be very exciting,’ proposed 3rd-year BAFE student, Sara Koslowski.

‘Not as exciting as supply-and-demand though! Would you look at that curve? Woah! But yeah, I’d rather not be murdered, if that’s all the same with you.’

Far more to come.

‘I’m Your New PM, Shmacinda Schmarden,’ Says What Is Clearly Scott Morrison In Drag

In breaking news, Australia has once again dispatched a sitting Prime Minister. In a shocking development out of Canberra, novice backbencher Shacinda Schmarden has successfully challenged former-PM Scott Morrison for the leadership of the Liberal National Party.

Ms Schmarden will become Australia’s 31st Prime Minister and 7th in the last 12 years. She is only the second female to hold the job.

‘I am very excited to lead the country, be woke and have babies,’ Prime Minister Schmarden said in her first press conference from Parliament House.

However, the Schmarden Government has only just begun and already finds itself plagued by scandal. Several commentators have noted that Ms Schmarden bares a stunning resemblance to Scott Morrison.

‘Like, it’s clearly just Scott Morrison in bad drag,’ Annabelle Crabbe wrote in an online ABC article entitled ‘Look What The Parliament Dragged In, Also How Good Are Custard Tarts.’

Even Andrew Bolt, an often reliable ally of the Coalition, was willing to entertain the conspiracy. ‘I’m not going to lie, this is a fairly atrocious attempt to win over voters by a person who is, and I will stress this again, very clearly ScoMo in a wig and a dress.

The rumours were only fuelled by revelations that Mr Morrison was spotted at The Beat Megaclub on Friday evening, holding a notebook and pen whilst talk intensely with Ashley Grove, a famed local Queen.

The Government has attempted to get on with the job of governing, with the new Prime Minister announcing a $5 million funding package for Waleed Aly and PedestrianTV.

‘He doesn’t even look hot. If he looked hot I’d all for it,’ said Fraser Anning.

The Prime Minister has begun naming her Cabinet and recently appointed her first Chief of Staff, RuPaul Keating.