JANUARY DICKHEAD

Alright. Lets get DOTY 2015 started!!

Nominations are rollin' in already.

Dickhead Gang, What?!

Fight Club Dickhead

“I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

Not the smartest thing to say when your off your nut in the middle of the street trekking home after a mental new years party.

“What? Are you crazy?” Rich replied.

He wasn't getting the Fight Club references, so naturally, Deeby continued. Really pushing Rich to hit him for reasons unknown.

“I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

“Alright,” Rich shrugged. POW!

Right swing to the face.

He hit him. Fully hit him... as hard as he could.

“I can't believe you just hit me!” Deeby cried.

“Bruv, you kept telling me to.”

“If I kept telling you to stick your dick in a goat would you do it? Actually, don't answer that.”

“What did you expect me to do?” Argued Rich

“You Say 'No. I'm not gonna hit you, Deeby. I'll never fucking punch you. You're my boy'. That's what you do.”

“Bruv. You're my boy. You told me to hit you... so I hit you.”

We think they're both Dickheads.

Fitness First Dickhead

You know them ones when you've been drunk walking for ages, looking for a house party, the next night club or trying to get home... there's a term Dickhead's use for that. “Fitness First.”

Second weekend of January is probably the worst weekend to party across the world. Christmas ate everyone's p's (money), New Years destroyed their livers and January sales are well, still eating p's.

The gang knew this before they headed out... But Cons was feeling lucky.

It's not long after midnight in St Paul's. The crew have been in and out of a few bars already, all of which were pretty empty. Desperate to get knee deep in clunge, Cons begins to march with purpose to Shoreditch. Shoreditch... From St Pauls!!

Fitness First, Bitches!

“This is Fitness first!” Chris notes, “Look, these streets are empty, people ain't about, nowhere is gonna be open, let's just go home.”

“Mate, I feel luckier than an alcoholic trapped in a brewery.” He keeps marching.

Cut to 40 minutes later. They see an open bar, get to the front door. Bouncer say's.
“Were just about to close, boys.” The gang's collective groan is silenced as the bouncer continues, “Want my advice? Go home!”
“Aww mate, this is long. Alright. How we getting home?” Rich asks “You getting us a cab, Cons?”

“Nah, we can walk.”

“Fitness First.” Chris notes.

Dickhead.

Dickhead Search Bars

The Dickhead Gang spit bars. You know they released this (Free Music!!), right?

They made this WhatsApp group to keep contact amongst the gang docile, to organise meetings and to stay on top of other such important work purposes...

So they were in the middle of a text rap battle when Cons slyly parred off Rich this one time... which is usually a low blow 'cos he don't usually get involved in the whole rap game.

So as you might imagine it came as a bit of a surprise when he dropped the following bars...

I'll slice, dice, incise each thrice
step unto me and piggety pay the price
if your my foe I'll make you fall like a domino
you check the flow
and you'll know I'm a pro
your a peasent
I'll eat you like a pheasent
there's no logic in testing this
cos I prevail, you fail
I scale, blaze trails, mess with me
and I'll send you to hell like mail

There not fantastic...
And they didn't really make any sense with the topical rap battle being had.
Nevertheless, Rich had written bars and everyone was astounded. Well, only until Chris had a eureka moment.
Thing is, Rich has a history for plagiarism and the reason it had taken us a while to realise he had googled these bars (original here) was because it was usually pictures that he would pass off as his own.

Turns out the only bars Rich has are his search bars... Sorry.

Who d'ya reckon is New Years Dickhead?

Dickhead Out.