Who In The Fuck Is Dane Burns?

Fatty Got Strawberries In The Third Flap

Hello, my name is Dane and this is my blog about fatties.

Sometimes I wish I could be fat and have a fat girlfriend. We could play games together like "Hide The Food On My Body."

"Find the chocolate covered strawberry!"

"I found it, it was under your third flap! Now it's just a regular squashed strawberry."

Here is a picture of a random fatty boomsticks. With my head on this body, I could be the same person if I was this fat and wore glasses.

My parents gave me the sex-talk when I was 24. Mum said, "Dane, if you ever have sex, I'll kill you."  I'm still here.  I don't care how jealous she gets. My body is mine and I will share it with anyone I want to. Is there a male equivalent for cougars?  I want to be a male cougar.  I also want to be a big fatty.

Is it too late to make resolutions?

Confused,

- Dane.

Facebook aka Mensa

I don't have a point to this blog, but I thought I'd share some of the more interesting insights from the nether regions of Facebook.

- Dane.

Perth Smiles :)

This is an example of a "Perth Smile" :)

I’m in Perth this week. Perth people are funny little things who have three settings; angry, miserable and morose. Some of the Perthers will give you a forced smile, but you can see the rage in their eyes and though their lips are pressed together you can tell they are hiding clenched teeth, (and probably a forked tongue.) A small percentile may actually deliver you a beautiful smile, but they’re probably from war torn countries or interstate, (or have aspirations of running away interstate.)

Secretly they are all angry because they all wish they could live in Melbourne, but they don’t. They live in Perth, and they know this. I once met a girl who said this secret out loud!!! Based on her openness I asked her out. As I write this to you, I am single. I thought there was going to be a thunderstorm that day! But there wasn’t. It was just normal weather.

I suppose Perthers want to move to Melbourne for the coffee, because it might make them smile more, or maybe it will stop them from looking at their feet when I talk to them, or maybe a good coffee would stop them being so tired and lazy all the time… Sometimes you can smell the caffeine on their clothes when they sleep. I once took a guy’s coat and dowsed it with toilet spray to get rid of the coffee smell. He smelt like a public toilet afterwards which is better than smelling like bad Perth coffee! If I could bottle it I would call it ‘West Dreams’ because Perth people dream of moving to Melbourne for the coffee, and famous people, (who aren’t very famous but they know someone who went to school with Heath Ledger, so they are kind of superstars themselves,) would do the adverts on TV.

I suppose another reason they want to go to Melbourne is because of the footy. The footy teams are much better in Melbourne and have better colours. I don’t understand the footy, but I once watched someone kick a footy ball and it looked like if the footy ball wasn’t a footy ball but it was my head, it would have hurt, but it wasn’t my head it was a footy ball, so it was okay. Anyway, I don’t think they would like Melbourne too much, because they have police fines for tailgating, so they would come back in a few months and be angry again because they have no licence and lots of bad coffee! Maybe they should just get better footy players and open more good coffee places in Perth and then people would be happier. I don’t want special credit for the idea from the Premier or whatever, but thanks for listening.

- Dane

Michael Likes Fishing

 Hello, I am Dane and this is my blog about Michael from work. :)

Michael is a right-wing bogan sociopath who I work with occasionally when I do some data entry for our cleaning firm. He wears a hat that says Shimano with his business shirt and levis which have a stain above the right knee which I assume to be fish guts because all he ever talks about is fishing. It suggests to me that he doesn’t take work as seriously as he takes fishing. Once he asked to borrow my staple remover, so I gently slid it to him across the desk. He took this as me throwing it at him, and said, “Just fucking throw it at me next time!” I thought he would rather I didn’t… So once he had finished with it he threw it hard at the back of my head. It probably normally wouldn’t have been an issue, but I was drinking coffee at the time of impact and it caused me to spill coffee down my front. I tried to wash my shirt in the bathroom, but it was just no good.

Sometimes I remind him of this when he asks to borrow things, and I’m swiftly told to go and fuck myself because I started it. He’s a little hard to talk to, but we are good friends. For example, once a month on a Friday we will have lunch together.

On one such occasion Michael suggested we should go to the pub and have a couple of beers. When we got there Michael realised he had left his wallet at work, so I paid and we enjoyed a nice lunch together over a couple of pints. During lunch Michael questioned my ability to “pick up chicks.” I told him matter of factly that I would be meeting one for dinner the following evening. Michael’s reply was, “What’s his name, faggot?” And let out a big belly laugh before downing the remainder of his beer and sending me to the bar for another round.

Today Michael has informed me that I will need to drive him to and from work for 3 months as he’s lost his licence for DUI. This consists of driving 15 minutes south of my house to pick him up and then driving 45 minutes north to work. So on top of the 8 hours we spend together at work, we will now have an extra 2 hours together so he can tell me about his fishing adventures.

- Dane.

Cleaning Pretty Much Equals Horses

Hello, my name is Dane Burns, and this is my blog about horses and cleaning. :)

This is a cartoon picture of a person cleaning, (it's not actual size though. Some people have been known to grow up to 5' 10"!!!)

There are many things to be said about working in the cleaning industry, but as most of them are negative, and usually my stories will involve clients, I think it’s best that I write about horses instead. If I were a horse in a paddock with a fence that only came up to my armpits, I would fucking jump over that shit and gallop into the sunset with all of my friends.

 

If I was a horse I would want to be this one which appears to be running away into the sunset. But I would have friends with me, because otherwise after a few days it would get lonely

 
Working as a cleaner is a lot like being a horse. You wake up in the afternoon, put on your face and your fishnets and stand on the street corner waiting for customers to come and fuck you in the ass.

- Dane.