The peak of floggery is a self-appointed nickname. Now you might argue simply assuming your surname doesn’t really count as a nickname as such, but when you offered up unfunny banter and followed it up with your surname shouted in the manner Dayne would do it, then it totally counts as peak floggery.
Two mandarins and a banana left in a fruit bowl. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
Spends the rest of the afternoon at Woolworths because he got the number 69 ticket at the deli. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
Deliberately making mistakes during drinking games so he can gargle down more Asahi. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
Goes to the pub. Puts on All Star by Smash Mouth every time. Sings along every time. Replaces “all star” with “Zorko” in the chorus every time. Gets glassed. Every time. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
On the V-Line Quiet Carriage. Has been holding them in all day. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
Takes a dump at a car wash. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
Opts out of wearing a safety harness (his words - “girl’s harness”). Snapchats a picture of the nurse at the Alfred with an arrow pointing at her boobs. A really big arrow. ZORKOOOOOOOOO
Gets arrested in Pyongyang and sentenced to 15 years hard labour for smuggling a bunch of whoopie cushions in which seems pretty trivial to us westerners but over there this is worse than heroin trafficking because it’s just so incredibly rude, and the Australian government spent nine days negotiating for his release in the most perfunctory manner possible.
I shared this a while ago in another thread, but it belongs here now.
A group of us (ladies & gents) were out clubbing in '97-98 when a random bloke became a bit too familiar towards us. Someone asked him ‘Sorry, mate, but do we know you?’ to which the guy replied ‘Yeah, you should. I’m Shane Woewodin. I play footy for the Demons. You know, Shane Woewodin?’ We all moved to another section of the club.