What a better dinner to have before an Isaac Butterfield show then to throw down a filthy chicken burger. If you are familiar with The Buttsmarn and his wife Lil’ Dicky you’ll get the relevance of that, and if not, you should probably leave now before you go and get yourself offended, ya pack of fucking Soy Boys.
So, the wife and I manage to make it through the streets of Southport without getting mugged by some Eshay’s, only for me to almost get in a fight with two drunk bogans at the show “line-up”. Turns out that they didn’t like me “pushing in” to a line that didn’t even need to exist. You know, like those ones at concerts that people form, and other people join because, well, sheep. Hey, leave our kiwi friends out of this. Nah, fuck ‘em, ya pies are shit too cuz.
After I staunched the bogans, we arrived at our platinum seats to find some gifts which included a couple of Lil’ Dickies Peachy by Rose Squat Socks/Cock Warmers, and a “Don’t Miss Mate”. For those who don’t know, that’s something that goes in the shitter, and glows all the colours of the LGBTLMNOP so that you can see where you are pissing in the dark. Not that any off us give a fuck, as long as the tans empty and there more room for the piss that goes in.
Five minutes before the show starts, Isaacs big fucking head pops up on the video screen and tells us to fuck off if we are easily offended. Unsurprisingly, no one fuckin leaves and then as Metallica’s Enter Sandman plays the 8-foot-tall lurch enters the fucking stage. He comes out and instantly takes the piss out of the whole Gold Coast, saying all the worst people come from here. Looking around at the crowd, he ain’t wrong. And if this isn’t the biggest bunch of bogan gronks I’ve seen outside of Logan, it’ll be a close second to those Fucker Asshole shows going on with that sweaty fat mining fuck Clive Palmer at the moment. Calm down, I’m a sweaty fat fuck myself so I can get away with saying it.
As the show kicks off, Isaac drills down on a disabled elderly lady in the front row named Kaz who gladfully plays along with the brutal and embarrassing humour, some of which include puns about others “drilling down” on her. When he is done with that, he jumps to the now required “Welcome to Country” which I’m sure will get him cancelled for the 5th time.
That’s not a bad record for a self-confessed retard, who isn’t fully retarded, but just has form of epilepsy which I’m not even going to try and pronounce. But that’s ok, because I’m pretty sure that 90% of the crowd have IQ levels low enough to themselves be considered, a little special, or at the very least in the “ism’s”.
The show takes plenty of offensive turns and covers everything from Palestine to exploding housing prices, and back to exploding houses in Palestine. I think the worst came, “came”, when the conversation turned to sex during pregnancy, and how with visual re-enactments he described the worst threesome he’s ever had. Well, apart from the high five from his son. I’ll let you digest that for just a moment, that spew in your mouth I mean. And I’m not even gonna touch the still born bit, but those who know, know, and now wish they didn’t.
Genders and Mental Health issues are high on the agenda, as are hecklers getting removed from the venue because of an earlier brawl in the carpark or something … fuck knows. The show continues though, as do the circumcisions because ya mum wants it to look like ya dads, and that’s weird. Not as weird as comparisons between vaginas and JFK’s exit wound though, and nowhere near as confusing as the following Transgender and Pronoun conversation.
Black Lives Matter, and so do spiral duck cocks. The two combine to create some Big Duck Energy, big enough to get a ma(r)ncancelled 4 times. Bigger and more historically defining than the Holocaust, Muslims, the Hillcrest Massacre and our very own Indigenous culture. Well, at least as Isaac claims anyway.
Remember that saying, “I’m not a racist, I hate everyone equally”? Isaac didn’t quite say that, but he did take aim at every minority group so as not to single out one, and to share the love around. And in this share of love, he gained applause and laughter within the room from theindigenous, disabled, Islanders, Muslims, Italians, Germans, Pedophiles, Indians, Native Americans and the LGBTQIA+ community. Well, maybe there weren’t any pedophiles, but you never know in Southport with a Catholic Church just around the corner.
Anyway, enough of that song and dance, and thank fuck that Isaac’s song and dance didn’t last too long at the end of the show. The big, bearded cunt should really just stick to super offensive comedy, because he’s pretty fucking good at that. The song and dance, not so much, not at all actually. Stop dancing ya’ big lanky fuck.
I tried to catch The Buttsmarn for a post-show chat but there were about 100 or so drunk fucks waiting for a meet and greet and to get their Better Man books signed. So, I fuck off for a piss and when I’m at the trough, some bloke pulls up beside me moaning like he was either blowing his load or giving birth to my next feed of veal. Turns out he was mates with those mullet blokes from Tik Tok, the Reesebros. He was their very own Preston Lacey, the epitome of Body Positivity in the male form, if that’s even a thing. It’s not, and if ya drop by one of Mr Butterfields YouTube channels, I’m sure he’ll tell ya’ all about that!
