Abso Hilare

First of all, let it be known that I was legitimately infuriated by the entertainment provided.

We went out to celebrate for my good friends birthday and UNFORTUNATELY we were provided music by the earth’s most annoying disc jockey–ever.

I seriously wanted to hurl a bucket of damp, recently chewed chicken bones at this man. I understand as a DJ you should love the music, but this man took it to an all new level–that of a nuisance.

I’d like to remind you that the events listed on AbsoHilare.com are all 100% factual and can be verified if necessary. Anywho, with that said, I would like to let you in on the fact that this DJ came out with all the bells and whistles–literally! By that I mean he brought with him a microphone, two turntables, some random DJ software, a bell and a blasted whistle!

This arse [DJ Fail] was doing the standard Michael Jackson set, and I can’t lie he was doing very well until [you knew an "until" was coming very soon & well, there it was] I suddenly hear a very carnival-esque beat over THRILLER (said like Dave Chapelle). I’m wondering what song is this dude about to mix in that has those crazy (in a bad way) drum patterns. I listen to a lot of music, and can even tell what song a dj will play next just by one hint of the beat. But I thought long and hard (actually it was about 7 seconds) and I came up with no such song!

So I then turn to look, and the DJ (while standing directly in front of the microphone) was fervently striking a fucking COWBELL! I couldn’t believe it! Imagine being at a fairly trendy decent bar and seeing the house DJ playing a cowbell; anti-bueno. So after he puts the cowbell (still abso ridic) away, he then began to break out into a [very loud] hand clap. From there it went to the routine from Thriller all while blowing a whistle–a WHISTLE!

Every time someone else showed up, I would immediately try to explain to them my strong hatred for the DJ. My blood pressure would raise as my story would always get interrupted by DJ DoucheBag abusing the friggin’ cow, without fail.

One time I got so fed up, I went to punch him in the face ask him to chill out with the damn bell. I got to the dj booth, low and behold this courageous mofo was actully wearing a brown graphic tee that read “More Cowbell”. I couldn’t believe it, I laughed harder than ever before. I laughed for seriously two full minutes. YOU try finding something that warrants a two minute laugh and see…not many things I tell you, not many at all.

Actually, imagine this [below] being the DJ. It was that ridiculous:

But yeah, I’m glad to be back. Glad to have you back. Until next time, Musin–OUT!

Long Live AH!

P.s I have no idea why I told you his shirt was brown, meh. That is all, carry on.

P.p.s Random question of the day: What nationality is responsible for keeping the brand Skechers alive?
Answer: Mexicans. Yup, Mexicans. Better luck next time.