Retro’s DJ Violently Executed For Playing Song For Longer Than 26 Seconds

The Brisbane nightlife scene has been shocked this evening, as patrons of the popular club Retro’s have been forced to witness the violent execution of resident DJ Trey Stockings, as he played an 80s hit for longer than the mandated maximum of twenty-six seconds. 

The citizens of Brisbane who usually descend upon Retro’s are an eclectic mix of loud eighteen-year-olds who just got kicked out of Birdee’s, coked-up yuppies looking to dance the night away, and strange fiftysomething men who are earnestly looking to listen to the songs of their youth. But one thing unites every resident of that packed, sticky dancefloor: a passion for 80s music, and a complete and utter lack of ability to pay attention for more than a few seconds at a time.

Since the dawn of time, Retro’s management have maintained their flagship policy of ‘twenty-six seconds a song,’ catering to those who love to go out, have a few drinks, and hear three hundred songs over the course of the night. 

Admittedly, ‘Africa’ and ‘Take On Me’ usually account for half of the plays they hear at Retro’s, but the variety is still spectacular.

Nevertheless, one brave DJ’s attempt to buck the trend and actually play a song was met with a violent, and swift end. Churchie Old Boy and professional underachiever, Trey Stockings (26), decided to make an absolutely zany decision and whack on MC Hammer’s ‘U Can’t Touch This,’ without brazenly skipping it thirty seconds into the song.

Retribution was swift.

Retro’s management descended upon poor Trey from the booth where they were enjoying their vodka redbulls, and engaged in the Braveheart-esque practice of hanging, drawing, and quartering the bloke. An emergency DJ chucked on his Spotify playlist of ‘80s bangers,’ to ensure the shocked audience could keep dancing, and crucially, to make certain that Trey’s tortured screams would be drowned out by the sweet, sweet sounds of Whitney Houston’s toe-tapper, ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody.’

Let this be a lesson to those who challenge the establishment: no-one wants to hear the whole song.

More to come from this deeply disturbing investigation into Brisbane nightlife.

Misguided Man On Date Still Hoping For A Cinema Wristie During Bombshell Screening

“Is he even listening to the fucking dialogue?!” Exclaimed disgruntled young woman Molly Howard.

Tense scenes emerging from El Taco Cinemas after local romantic Harry Brennan (23) failed to read the room. It has been reported that Mr Brennan thought he was in with a chance for a rub and tug after his date got a bit frivolous with her use of emojis earlier in the week.

However, it was clear that Brennan was unable to discern the appropriate time to deploy his romantic gestures in response. The Hollywood blockbuster ‘Bombshell’, starring Nicole Kidman, Margot Robbie and Charlize Theron, sheds light on the misogynistic and abusive workplace culture that Roger Ailes perpetrated during his reign at Fox News. However, the cultural context of the film was lost on Harry whose mind was fixated on getting to second base.

Our reporters spoke to Harry, who goes by Hazza in the boys’ chat, about the interaction.

‘haha yea probably wasn’t the ideal movie to try and get a bit of wrist action. I just saw Margot Robbie all dolled up and it sort of got me in the mood you know haha’

Brennan was unable to put two and two together to work out that fondling this young woman’s thigh during a movie about rampant sexual assault may not be the time, nor the place to try and get a chop.

‘Look I don’t understand what all the fuss us about if I’m quite honest.’ He continued, ‘It’s not like I asked to suck her toes or something… I’m not a freak’

Better luck next time big fella.

Master Of His Craft: This Seven-Year-Old Just Slipped A Whoopee Cushion Under Nan’s Rocking Chair

Breathtaking. Simply breathtaking. Those were the thoughts running through the minds of lucky onlookers as local ‘enfant terrible,’ Tyson McGray (7), engaged in one of the most slick, powerful examples of comic treachery: the humble whoopee cushion.

It was obvious to all comers that Tyson was a man in complete control of his craft as he deftly slipped the inflatable cushion under the rocking chair of his eighty-nine-year-old Grandmother, who is also known as ‘Nan,’ or on particularly intense bingo nights, ‘Slayer.’

And he took his art to the next level by managing to stifle his nigh-uncontrollable giggles with the incredibly classy move of using his Ben 10 T-shirt to cover his oral cavity (‘mouth’ to normies), the source of the laughter.

The surrounding audience, admittedly assembled primarily of Tyson’s friends and family, started to shake and laugh with uncontrollable mirth, as Tyson’s brilliance had fostered the undeniable implication that Nan had just committed the great faux pas of passing wind in a public forum.

Just like a master craftsman, a true professional, Tyson did not immediately take credit for his masterpiece, despite how easy it would be for him to simply raise his hand and state ‘It was me. I am the golden geese.’

No, our intrepid young man would wait until his eagerly gathered cousins were hanging on his every word, like those who listened to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, to reveal himself as the architect of fake-fart-related chaos.

What a true master at work. And if this is his level now, one can scarcely begin to imagine the plane to which he might ascend, with able support and encouragement.

One day, he might even be so brave to try a ‘double dacking,’ the eternally funny process by which someone’s shorts and undies are yanked down, revealing a doodle floating carelessly, aimlessly in the wind.

More to come on this rapidly developing story about a rapidly developing young man.

‘I Love Indie Music,’ Says Man About To Introduce You To Arctic Monkeys Or Tame Impala

We’ve all been there. A few drinks deep at the bar. A few schooners consumed with alarming pace. A couple of Gin and Tonics suckled, as if they were the teat of some British colonial goddess. 

And then you’re introduced to someone. Could be a friend of a friend, could be an acquaintance of an acquaintance, or it could just be someone with an inflated sense of their own ego and a willingness to generously share that inflation with everyone.

A conversation strikes up. A shared interest is established. Maybe it’s footy, maybe it’s RuPaul’s Drag Race, or maybe it’s obsessing over Greta Thunberg to the point of alarming concern. Man, woman, or child, we can all be struck by the horrors of what may happen next.

‘Yeah, I love indie music, haha,’ you hear. Your spine stiffens. The grip on your glass grows tighter. The knot in your stomach twists until you can hardly breathe.

‘W-what indie music?’ you stammer. You’re hoping, praying, that you’ve guessed wrong. You’re terrified of what you’re about to hear.

‘Y’know, real indie stuff. Like Arctic Monkeys, Tame Impala. Even a bit of Catfish & The Bottlemen if I’m really treating myself,’ comes the reply.

‘You mean, Tame Impala who is selling out stadiums across the world?’ you suggest, subtly hinting that maybe, just maybe, this little psych-rock outfit from Perth are slightly more popular than immediately obvious.

‘Oh no, you must have misheard. I said Shame Grampala, this four-piece Melbourne band who composed the entirety of their first EP on ukuleles whilst high off the fumes of their reno job on their Brunswick sharehouse.’

Huh, you think to yourself. This guy knows his stuff. You settle in for another beer, another wine, whatever pickles your fancy.

‘What’s your name?’ you ask.

He affixes you with a glare that pierces straight to your heart.

‘Donald J Drumpf, Cheeto-in-Chief.’

No one hears the scream over the sound of ‘I Will Survive (12” Remix)’ coming on at the bar.

No more to come.

'NO ACADEMIC MISCONDUCT! NO COLLUSION!' - Man Accused of Copying CML Quizzes Claims Witch Hunt

Third year Economics/Law student James Davis has launched a fiery rebuke against the UQ Academic Registrar after he was charged with academic misconduct this morning.

Charges were brought by the Registrar following allegations that throughout Semester 2 of 2019, Davis solicited a number of classmates for screenshots of their completed CML quizzes for ECON1020: Introduction to Macroeconomics. The Obiter understands that these quizzes constituted up to 20% of the available marks for the subject, a tantalising sum for a student who has consistently struggled to perform in exam season. The Registrar’s suspicions were first aroused on August 14th, the due date of CML 1, when Davis managed to achieve a score of 100% on the 10 question quiz despite only using 40 seconds of the allotted time. However, with only circumstantial evidence, the Registrar declined to prosecute.

Even more concerningly, the whistleblower’s report alleges that Davis requested the answers on a quid pro quo basis, allegedly telling one classmate: “look mate, nobody needs to know about this. I can make it worth your while,” before lifting up his shirt to reveal six Curly Wurlys tucked into his waistband.

Davis took to Twitter to attack the credibility of the charges, labelling the Registrar as “Slimy and Desparate”, characterising the investigation as a “Witch Hunt” and defending his “perfect” performance in the quizzes. The Tweet comes as a sharp departure from his usual pattern of posting, which largely consists of uncreative abuse directed at French rugby referees.

When asked at press time why he was taking a first year economics course when he is a third year Economics student, Davis became flustered, and eventually violent.

“I don’t need to defend myself to you fuckwits!” spat Davis, before throwing a Curly Wurly at an attending journalist. Davis was immediately apprehended by police and charged with assault occasioning deliciousness. The journalist was unharmed.

More to come.

Report: Lecturer Who Uses “Retarded” As A Verb Has Gigantic Cock

UQ Property Professor Rory Grandoak (43) has today flexed his magnum dong with a grossly gratuitous use of the word “retarded”.

Sources say Grandoak’s epic dick flaunt came during a class discussion of native title. After detailing the history of the Racial Discrimination Act and it’s effect on Indigenous property rights, Grandoak turned to the WA parliament’s attempts to frustrate the development of native title in the 1990s.

It is alleged that at this point Grandoak unsheathed his mega member and rubbed it all over the faces of the students in attendance, proverbially of course.

Despite a wealth of available synonyms - impeded, slowed, curbed, just to name a few - Grandoak settled on the slur in a brave affront to loony lefties everywhere.

Grandoak went on to criticise the generally insufficient quantum of compensation for extinguished native title, labelling the government’s fiscal practices as “niggardly”, as the sirens of the UQ Integrity Unit blared in the distance.

Stunning and brave, Professor.

More to come.

Man Realises Joke Probably Wasn’t Worth It As Girlfriend’s Meltdown Enters 8th Hour

SILLY MAN: Jacob Harding (23), currently on a self-proclaimed ‘lads trip’ with ‘the boys’* around Europe is today wondering where it all went wrong after what he thought was an innocuous joke has triggered World War Three.

Mr. Harding’s morning started innocently enough with a full English breakfast watching the Rugby World Cup quarterfinals. However, unbeknownst to him, halfway around the world, his girlfriend Kaitlin Eriksson (21) was powering towards the bottom of her second bottle of Champagne at a charity Gala.

As is expected with one and a half litres of champagne swirling around her system, Kaitlin took this opportunity to express to Mr Harding how much she missed him while he was on his holiday. Despite spending the last six years of his life deciphering legal doctrines, Jacob read the room about as well as a dyslexic toddler and responded, ‘New phone who dis?’.

Ms Eriksson’s eye began twitching involuntarily as she took in his response.

‘Does he think that this…’ she muttered as her breathing became more and more laboured, ‘IS A FUCKING GAME’ she screamed, alerting everyone in the room.

‘hehehe, pretty good one. She’ll love this gear’, Jacob thought as he sighed and watched an English winger scoop up an intercept for the easiest try of his career.

‘Oh look she’s pretending to be mad’ he smiled as a tirade of messages flooded into his inbox.

Meanwhile, ten time zones away, Kaitlin was being physically restrained by six of her closest friends while she verbally threatened to ‘swim across the pacific to rip his dick off and choke him with it’.

Jacob’s friends even started to message him asking him what he’d done to which he thought, ‘God she’s better than I expected, even got our mates in on it’.

It wasn’t until he received a message from their mutual friend Anna describing Kaitlin as ‘maaaaad’ that the penny dropped.

 ‘Fuck that’s a lot of a’s. Maybe I’ve cooked this a bit’, he panicked and began working on damage control.

Obiter investigators believe Jacob has managed to subdue the situation and will be able to sleep safely at night without fearing for the safety of his genitals.

More to come.

*Don’t worry we hate this guy as much as you do.

UQ Law Nerd Loving This Feeling Of Being Invited To Events

The UQLS election period has delivered a world-first for absolute fucking law dork Eamon McDickgoob (we’ve written like 10 articles over 2 days guys, maybe just let this one slide yeah? Thanking you).

As candidates for all manner of Management Committee positions completely molest the notifications tab with invites to their Facebook events, many students expressed outrage at the spam.

Not Eamon McDickityDickgub.

Eamon, being the unadulterated fuckburger of a bloke that he is, does not ever receive invitations to Facebook events. If he were to be invited to a party or pre-drinks, he’d just drink pineapple juice and dribble on his stupid brown shorts. Seriously guys, if you’re not laughing you’re not working hard enough to conjure up the image of the gimpiest dickvein in your cohort absolutely slurping up pineapple juice, no alcohol just the juice, and inhaling it with such ferocity that he is going full Poseidon on his dumb dick and stupid fucking pants. I am actually enraged just thinking about him holy fuck.

So what was this about? Oh yeah, he’s invited to Facebook events this week because people are campaigning for the AGM so he is having the feeling of what it’s like to actually have friends. Got it? Good.

There you go. We only wrote this one to space out the Omar articles because we have sooooo many of them. More to comar.

Sean Tran Pledges to Expand Notepool, Even If It Takes Violent Force

UQLS Presidential nominee Sean Tran has today presented one of his first campaign pledges, promising to expand the services and quality of Notepool, even if he has to commit murder to do so.

While Tran did not explicitly state an intention to use violent force, the substance of his speech and his established reputation as a Bjelke-Peterson-esque curb-stomping megalomaniac show a man who is not afraid to get dirty politically.

Tran, who allegedly asks to be called Sean X behind closed doors, read the following in a prepared statement:

“I pledge to increase younger students’ awareness of Notepool and make it a more comprehensive study tool – and I will bring this vision into existence by any means necessary” (emphasis added).

The announcement follows leaks from within the Tran camp of plans to fast track the introduction of a heavily armed UQLS militia to consolidate his grip on the Walter Harrison Law Library. The militia’s purpose was recorded in the minutes of a September meeting as “to oppose, with force, the enemies of diversity, wellbeing and socials, in any form in which they come.”

(Law) Society truly is fucked.

More to come.

'Bet No One Even Organised A Breakfast For Them,' Sighs Martin Doyle Reading News Of Slaughter Of Kurdish Fighters

Presidential Candidate Martin Doyle, who served as the Vice-President of Diversity & Wellbeing this year, has been praised for establishing the UQLS’s first Reconciliation Breakfast. 

However, campaign aides are growing concerned that Mr Doyle’s great work in raising law school awareness of Indigenous issues has somewhat skewed his grasp on what made the event groundbreaking. 

‘I think Martin genuinely believes the Reconciliation event only worked because it was a breakfast,’ one aide revealed to The Obiter. 

‘I suggested we do a lunch for further awareness and he called me an idiot and said a lunch will never work. It must be breakfast.’ 

According to campaign insiders, Mr Doyle intends to use his presidential powers to host a breakfast for any issue he thinks needs addressing. 

‘He’s already budgeted for an Equal Pay Breakfast, a Drought Breakfast, a Breakfast disavowing the Dr Doolittle remake (serving ‘it was good the first time’ crepes), and a hummus breakfast, which we have no further info on and can only assume he just like hummus.’

‘It’s too much.’

Mr Doyle has even become deenergised on the campaign trail just looking at causes around the globe where he feels he could’ve made a difference if he only had the time to throw together a 6:45am booking at a venue close to the city with danishes and pulp-free orange juice. 

‘I bet no one organised a breakfast for them,’ Martin sighed, as he tossed down his morning paper in disgust after reading about the attacks on Kurdish fighters in Syria by an advancing Turkey. 

‘All it would’ve taken was a chipolata. Is that too much to ask?’

Whilst senior political advisers have suggested that all the yummy hash browns in the world wouldn’t have solved the Troubles in Northern Ireland, nor would they have had much impact in the Rwandan genocide, it seems this bright young candidate is destined to disagree.

And will that destiny carry him to the top job? Time will tell.

In an ironic twist, many of the Kurdish fighters reportedly feeling a little peckish before their untimely death. How rough.

More to come.