What the fuck happens to men as they walk through the door of a club?

They walk in, hand over their entrance fee and get shot with a retard gun. BOOM! you are now a dribbling mess, say good-buy to the use of your legs and yet help to confidence.

They stand in packs on the hunt for the weak loan sheep that they can pounce on with all the elegance of a bear in a toutou. But sheep are afraid of loud noises, over-enthusiastic movements and slobbering spit in the eye so elope when they have a chance. The chase re-ackers with a different sheep each time, until the pack tire and end up licking their wounds the only way they know how…with alcohol, shoulder lock jumping and shouty singing.

I mean, what the fuck is that shoulder locking jumping in a circle dance anyway? Its like some fucked up ring a ring a roses for kids who’s parents hated them. This is how we hug son, elbow in the face.

By this point, the realisation that no girl in her right mind would even consider the mere possibility of poking one of their pack members with a long stick, they turn to aggression. They bash in to anyone, they swear, they turn to intimidate everyone in a feeble attempt to try and prove their manliness. At this point everyone hopes these arseholes drink so much they choke on their own vomit. It is natural selection.