#AskHp – Linen Pants

As you may be aware, I am now running an advice column as a regular feature. It’s as easy as using the #askHp hashtag and seeing if I pay attention. If I do, the chances are pretty high I will be able to use my significant life experience to help you navigate the murkiest of lifewaters. So, the next time someone shits in your milkshake, why not #askHpWhat could go wrong?

Having just dug deep into my pulsating question-sac, I can pull forth this shining question and hold it aloft like some inquisitive trophy; the very flickering Promethean light of human curiosity given form.

 

How do I tell a girl her linen pants are see through?

 

Perhaps the best place to begin is with the butt itself. Many people assume that the butt is something that should be hidden, shaped or somehow wrangled. To them I say: pish tosh. I once spent ages following a magical butt around a shopping mall. Arcane mystical tendrils that only I could see burst forth from between those fleshy moons, those chunky more-than-handfuls and beckoned me to follow. I was held in thrall, the butt was a funky spaceship sending out a hypergalactic tractor beam. Each step was an ecstatic prayer as I followed this butt and the hands of my heart flew up into the sky with sheer joy, but as I tailed this tail, I realised this tale would be too titillating to tell. I pulled up short. I reined myself in and put down the cosmic telephone. I ended my communication with the divine and much like a man who has seen the face of god, I have never been the same since.

But enough about butts. Let’s talk about what you can do to tell someone a girl her linen pants are see through.

 

1. Dress up as a mirror.

This will surely attract attention and encourage people to check themselves out. When said girl comes over to have a look at her outfit, begin whispering, ‘Your pants are see through… Your pants are see through!’ When she says, ‘Fuck me! A talking mirror!’ you should whip off your mirror suit and say, ‘Your damn linen pants are see through and I can see your vrot panty.’

2. Leave an anonymous sticky note.

On her ass.

3. Take some pictures of the ass and put them up in public. 

Someone in the office in which I work has a habit of taking shirtless selfies. I print them all out and stick them up in the office whenever they appear. I think it’s working.

4. Hack into the ass.

If you have your level 7 ass hacking badge (if you aren’t a member of Rump Scouts then what the hell have you been doing with your life?) you should be able to hack into the vast majority of asses you will encounter in the wild. Anyone wearing linen pants probably only has up to level 3 ass firewalls and these should be easy enough to bypass. Once you have hacked into the ass, I would suggest running the :PowerTwerk: command. This command overrides the muscle fibres of the ass and causes it to become both rhythmic and powerful. Couple this command with the linen pants and one can expect nothing short of a bootyquake. Once the ass has broken free from the pants, you are well within your rights to point out to the owner of said ass that linen is hardly a sufficient casing for an ass running the :PowerTwerk: command. Your victim, none the wiser, will be forced to reconsider their future hiney housings.

5. Wear your own see through linen pants.

This will signal to the owner of the ass that linen pants can indeed be see through. Once this has been acknowledged I suggest you both come visit me so I can inspect just how see through these pants are, so that I may give my professional opinion.

 

Yours bouncing across fleshy hillocks,

PW

 

And there you have it folks and folkettes. Please feel free to ask me for advice on my twitter account using the #askHp hashtag.

 

Header image: © Raimond Spekking / CC BY-SA 4.0 (via Wikimedia Commons)

Original file can be found here.

How to derail a conversation in the modern era

Sometimes, we are presented with situations in our lives where we need to nod politely at people until they shut up. The modern era is full of situations like this. Situations where we are talking to old people, the homeless, people with diseases, children, convicts, middle-aged women who have found god, people with shuttlecocks taped to their cheeks and general assholes.

BUT, like the ass-end of something I have developed something new, something possibly a little avant-garde. It might be a little bit scary, it smells good but it could be a little bit too creamy for some – even though it is totally non-diary and 100% suitable for vegans – I call it: How to derail a conversation in the modern era.

You may ask yourself at this point, “Am I ready to receive something so phenonemal, something so amazing that it’s been banned in Saudi-Arabia but is totally allowed in Tasmania, something so huge that it cannot be seen with the naked eye because it is all around and inside every single one of us, yet at the same time is as small as Renee Zellweger’s eyes?”

The answer of course, is a resounding and irrevocably unequivocal, “Yes,” in a loud booming voice not unlike the metatron itself.

 

Here are some things that you can do to derail a conversation – you could be talking to anyone on the list given above, or even someone else – the simple beauty of this kit is the fact that it can be used on anyone and anything.

 

–       As someone is talking to you, quickly pop out to a paint shop and buy some pink paint. Once you are back, paint yourself pink and curl up on the floor. At this point you may need to make some prawn noises. If the person is convinced that you have turned into a prawn they will either a) go away, because prawns make terrible conversation or b) attempt cook you and eat you. It is for this reason that this technique should only be used on people who are not partial to seafood or those with pink-shellfish allergies.

–       Look down at your hands. Scream. Tell the person who is talking to you that you can’t stand near them because your hands have a sex-fire deep inside them, that can only be put out with the waters of tantra. If the person offers to help you out with the sex-fire, simply tell them that they are, “not your type”. If the person talking to you goes away in a cloud of disgust, congratulate yourself twice.

–       Drop your pants to around your ankles. Pat your inner thighs, perhaps play a little drum-beat on them. Begin to hop around the person talking to you. Try massaging your calves as you hop. Don’t worry if you fall over, just carry on making the hopping motion.

–       Hold up your hand to stop them talking. Say the following, in a Japanese accent, “Biiiig Peepop. Mastodonic Peepop. Violent Peepop. BIIIG MISTAH PEEPOP!”

–       Turn into an orc. Cut the other person’s head off. Eat their brains. Drink out of their hollowed out skull. Rejoice and dream of visiting the hallowed halls of Kraumsqegg’r

–       Pull out an antique sword from Medieval times. Pull out some cheese. Cut the cheese. Make a sandwich using some Low GI bread you had in your haversack you got from that dead hiker on the mountain. Take the sandwich and stand on it. Walk 500 metres to your left. Ask them to come to you. Walk 500 metres to your right. Ask them to come to you. Repeat this process until they go away.

–       Begin to pop and lock. Consider moonwalking. If they don’t join in, get a car to run you over. If they do join in, shoot them.

–       Give birth to a lizard. Crucify it. Eat some syrup. Drink a chair. Sit on the floor and start crying because your life is full of jelly.

–       Dig a hole using the spade your grandfather gave you for coming third in the running race. Dig it to about knee-depth and stand in it. This should enable you to kiss the other person’s nipples without too much trouble. If this does not work, dig the hole deeper and throw the other person into it. Hit them with the spade, cause them brain damage.

–       Begin to count the colours of the rainbow. Confuse the other person with an interesting dance, using only your legs. Pump your arms rhythmically in front of you and shout out the names of all the different paper sizes you know.

–       Start a band. Play a song. Get signed. Become famous. Buy a house with a high wall. Problem solved.

 

Should there be any questions, do not hesitate to ask.

PL WHT (moonwalking into a river, wearing only a watch and some flippers)

 

How to be pretentious in the modern era

Paul: Take a look at this piece over here.

Fabian: Peace? It’s like a madhouse in here.

Paul: No no, this piece of art.

Fabian: Ah I see. That bit over there? That painting?

Paul: What’s a painting? I can only refer to art as a piece.

Fabian: What if it’s made of more than one piece? Like a train-set.

Paul: That would be an interesting piece. An allegory of the industrial era, bustling and careening through the fertile landscapes of our previously pastoral existences.

Fabian: Let’s get back to the work in front of us. I think I know what we’re going on about now.

Paul: All right, hit me with your ism.

Fabian: When I look at the “piece” in front of me, I feel that the artist is referencing a guttural feeling, perhaps recalling the days when we were hunter-gatherers, the ooga-booga of frustration. I sense that the artist is feeling caged, trapped inside modernity. It really is a tour-de-force, of force.

Paul: Funny you should say that.

Fabian: Really? You’re not laughing.

Paul (adjusting his beret, eating a baguette nonchalantly): Titter. What you just analysed was a lipsticked glass of white wine and a left over cocktail weenie. That was left behind by one of the other arty-types. It’s not art.

Fabian: But is it art? Who are we to decide?

Paul: Actually, now that I think about it, now that I take my mind forest, mow it down for grazing land, put some cows on it, grow them up, kill them (humanely), sell their skin for leather, make some shoes, sell their meat to make hamburgers, start a hamburger joint, name it the burger-hole (only for good citizens [bilingual pun count : 1, use of two different types of brackets : 1]), turn it into a franchise, become a corporation, sell it out, become a hippy, move to India and really ruminate on it – I think you have a point.

Fabian: When you said “ruminate”, did you mean act like a Persian poet from the thirteenth century?

Paul: Well. Yes and no. They call me the double entendre.

Fabian: You walk into rooms twice?

Paul: The second coming is just my shadow self, slinking behind me like a chastised dog.

Fabian: Did you just say second coming?

*smack*

Paul: Heck yes I did. God that was a good high five.

Fabian: So, you were saying how you thought I had a point?

Paul: Yes, I mean, who are we as humans, as these tiny, little, infinitely small specks of dust on the shoe of the universe, nay – the very atoms that dare to hang on the dust that aspires to be on the shoe of the universe – who are we to say what is art?

Fabian (doing a little pirouette): Is this art?

Paul (about to cry): It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Fabian (drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette): Is this art?

Paul: What a searing take on modern youth! My lungs fill up with sweet water and rust at the sight of your raw honesty.

Fabian: I’m like a piece of steak.

Paul: Let’s get to business, you arty canvas of a man.

Fabian: Do let’s.

 

The dialogue you just witnessed, acted out by Fabian and I, shows you just how far pretentiousness can get you. I’ll let you in on a little secret – there was no glass. There was no cocktail weenie. The weenie was inside you all the time, wriggling around and finding the soft little folds in your gutbags. We weren’t even at an art exhibition. On pure pretentiousness alone, Fabian and I went from two guys dressed as a laptop and a paving stone respectively, to two highly important sounding intelligentsia.

 

Point Number One: Use unnecessary words

Intelligentsia. No, not clever people. Not people who like art. Not cultured types. Intelligentsia. It’s not a paint brush, it is a device that paints bloody swathes of the discourse between modern man and his barely repressed sexuality.

Point Number Two: Find meaning that isn’t there

You’re staring at a piece of art. It is a painting of a knife, a fork and a plate: restaurant art. It is an allegory for the plight suffered by Africans. See that checked tablecloth in the painting? That is made up of blood-red HIV positive signs. And you thought it was a simple representation of eating utensils. Tut tut, you philistine.

Point Number Three: Be condescending, in fact, deign to condescend

Some people may look at things and like them for exactly what they are. They are sorely mistaken. Sorely mistaken. Mistaken sorely. We are not allowed to “enjoy”! Our job is to frown over glasses of white wine and shake our heads knowingly.

Point Number Four: There are certain things you just do not do

Have a family? Like walking dogs? Like rainbows? How silly of you. You are an automaton of consumerism.

Point Number Five: Your music is so mainstream

You listen to a person locked in a cupboard batting their eyelashes against non-stick pans? You are so mainstream.

You listen to three Inuit tribesmen, who throat-sing Abba songs while performing bondage acts on seals? You are so mainstream.

You listen to a person who only records major rivers? You are so mainstream.

You should listen to this new band, it’s made up entirely from recorded ambient sounds. In fact, it isn’t really music as such, besides – music is so 2008. What? You aren’t in 2009 already? Not being in 2009 is so 2007. Anyway, this band, this collective really, they don’t really play music. In fact, they don’t even talk. They aren’t really people. They are just a construct of my mind. Yeah, they get on stage and sit down. They don’t even face the crowd. They face the wall and think about what their music would sound like. Sorry, now that I just told you about them, they sold out. I don’t like them any more.

 

I would say something like goodbye now, but greeting people is such a social nicety,

 

Paul White

Five ways to reinvigorate your relationship

If you’re single – good for you. I’m sure you go to the movies on your own and have feelings and take bubble baths and contemplate poetry and sit around next to windows staring out just waiting for a soul mate.

Hate to burst your perfect, ‘children holding hands and giving each other flowers in black and white and stealing kisses on stairways while dressed like adults’ bubble, but there are no such things as soul mates. There are only people who are willing to put up with your shit in return for you putting up with their shit. It doesn’t get better than that. There are no magical moments. There are only endless compromises and furtive fumblings beneath the duvet in winter that leave you feeling emptier than Kim Kardashian on a bad day.

But sure, if you’re just waiting for that person – go for it. They’ll make you whole. You can cook together. And then do the dishes and laugh as you tick oily dishwash foam on each other’s noses. And then as your laughter dies down and the light goes from your eyes, just remember it’s your duty to procreate. And stay together forever.

So. How do we hold back the boredom as it seeps under the door, threatening to float us away on beige waves? How do we stem the tides of tedium that threaten to drown us? We undertake the following five steps to keep ourselves sane and ensure that someone will put up with our shit going forward.

 

One: Fight More Often

It’s like a pressure cooker. Your relationship is the cheap, tough meat that you leave in there for hours. Sometimes you need to chew on it a bit, or add some spice. You know what I mean. Go wild.

 

Two: Pretend To Be Someone Else

Remember how your partner always wanted to hook up with your brother instead of you? Now is your chance to live that dream and ‘mix it up in the bedroom’. Practice Pietie’s limp (after the accident at the fish-packing factory) and dress up in his favourite overalls. Ideally, these overalls would have seen a full day’s wear so you can truly exude the essence of your brother.

 

Three: Find A Hobby To Share

Some couples exercise together in the hopes that they will still be vaguely attracted to each other and slightly less jiggly than normal. If that’s what you’re into – go ahead and chafe away. Some couples like to make it their hobby spread their love all over social media in annoying, sickly sweet waves. This is really just laughing in the face of death as He stares down at you unflinchingly, though – so be warned. Everything you love will be taken away from you, so laugh away and share plans online.

 

Four: See Less Of Each Other

They say absence makes the heart grew fonder, but they also say out of sight out of mind. Get yourself away from your partner so you can realise how much you need them. Once your individual personality has been entirely eroded to resemble not much more than a single grain of sand, you can no longer function without your partner. This is called attachment.

 

Five: Liven Up Your Sex Life

If you’re still having sex, that is a good start. Perhaps it’s time to try something new. There are very many sex moves out there, most involving other people – but here is one sure-fire Hp-approved sex move that will have you and your partner screaming: The Folding Crocodile – Staple lettuce to yourself so as to appear green, then get into the bath. Turn on just the hot water and let it scald your skin until you are entirely pink under the lettuce. When your partner rushes in to see why you are screaming, you jump out the bath and roll around on the floor, trying to bite his or her ankles. Then Whammo! Crazy monkey romance.

A sex bonanza every time.

 

 

 

Fitting in in the modern era

Being a human person is not always easy. Sometimes, we are confronted with things that make us uncomfortable (like badly-designed chairs or watching your parents have sex) and perhaps something that dogs us from an early age is the need or want to fit in. To be accepted into a specific social grouping.

 

Some people might say things like: be yourself. This is a lie perpetuated by capitalism. No one really wants you to be yourself for any other reason than the more individual you are, the more crap you need to buy in order to prove your individuality, isn’t that so, comrade? Now please, pass the vodka – these Russian winters cut through to my bones and the Okhrana constantly breathing down my neck makes me nervous.

 

Fitting in is dependent on where exactly you plan to insert yourself. If you are the pencil-thin, black-painted penis of gothdom, inserting yourself into the hairy, rubbed-raw vagina of the outdoor enthusiast you are going to have a few problems. See, as humans, in order to be ‘interesting’ we have to try and assign ourselves a defining characteristic or characteristics. I play the role of the slightly touched writer quite well and have amassed quite a collection of elbow-padded tweed-jackets, antique pipes and aloof attitudes. My collection of disdain is something I plan on expanding in the very near future, if only people weren’t so damn stupid and getting in my way.

 

Obviously, the more niched your social grouping or personality the more interesting you’ll be. On the other hand, you could aim to join and become accepted into a larger group (see: jocks / B.Com students / art-fags / those quirky class-clown people who come from broken homes). That’s a little boring for me to explain though and on a scale of one to exciting, is sitting somewhere around the porridge mark (sans syrup, cinnamon or peanut butter). Rather, I’ll give you some tips on how to fit in with smaller, more ridiculous social groups.

 

People with chronic illnesses, who struggle on valiantly

Here’s a great differentiating factor for yourself – a chronic illness. Think something sexy and edgy, but not too disgusting. Having leprosy is perhaps going a little too far, not to mention messy. Think epilepsy, or an interesting allergy (like latex). You can announce to the world that you have this problem, and then milk sympathy from the teat of human kindness with your hungry teeth. (Where do you think the milk of human kindness comes from in the first place?) Just imagine the joy of joining a support group, so you can bitch yourself into ecstasy four times a month. It’s almost orgasmic.

 

People who write letters to newspapers

Bored? Retired? Wanting to fight the power, but feeling a little toothless? There’s nothing like a snooty little letter fired off from belligerent fingers. Neighbours taking a little longer than expected to clear their building rubble or dogs barking too much? You know what to do, Sir or Ma’am – write to the paper. Writing to the paper is not only exciting because you get to see your name in print (without being paid a cent), but also because you can force your viewpoints onto the rest of the world. No longer will you be sitting at home, brewing in indignation because you saw an advert for condoms in (Shock! Shock! Horror! Horror!) a family newspaper, now you can spread your feelings all over anyone who can read, like warm, salty piss.

 

People with ‘religious views’

Oh, it doesn’t matter what religion you choose. Any old one will do. It is suggested that your choice  is informed by whichever religion makes you feel the most self-important, or allows you to look down on anyone who doesn’t belong to yours. Many people who seem to have ‘religious views’ appear to have gone through some sort of trauma – resulting in their needing an external crutch to cope with their lives, rather than relying on their inner rationality or personal fortitude, so that is one way to enter into this group. On the other hand, religion can be seen as an accident of birth, so if you lack reasoning faculties or original thought and were born into a family that raised you in a particular religion, why not just carry on the tradition? Don’t forget that almost any religion you choose will place impossible moral obligations upon you, in order that you get to some sort of Nirvana. That’s correct, live as miserable a life as possible here, so you can achieve paradise and scoff at all the people burning in hell. Not that there’s any proof of that happening.

 

Yes, it’s a gamble, and you could be entirely wrong about which religion out of the thousands and thousands upon on this earth was the right one to choose (most of them are quite exclusive of any outside groups and presume that them, and only them, are on the path to salvation). You might be really upset if those eighty people in Papua New Guinea who were worshipping a rancid coconut were the true chosen ones, but that’s part of the deal.

 

Happy religioning!

 

Unfortunately, the sun is setting on this piece, and I don’t want it to go on any longer than it should, lest I fall into the group of aloof-writers who hold your attention for just too long. That would be terrible.

 

Ta-ta, and all,

Paul White

Ten great pickup lines to get you laid

You know your special alone times? When it’s just you in the shower and your thoughts of your art teacher in junior school? Or when everyone in your house has gone out and you put on your old Widget The World Watcher VHS tape?

Did you know you could do those things with other people? You really can put your slippery bits together with someone else and see what happens. It won’t always be the prettiest thing, and to be honest sometimes it can be downright embarrassing, but at least it’s better than cutting a hole in a lamb chop and thinking about the First Team Flyhalf.

The easiest way to get laid these days is through the use of specialised sentences that render people entirely powerless against your sexual charms. People will tell you things like: You should buy a woman at least three meals before you can touch her boobs and You should respect women and make love to their feelings before you encourage them to do demeaning and possibly illegal things involving dwarves and high quality motor oil but to be honest – they’re talking shit.

So before you explode with excitement and suddenly feel dirty, ashamed and entirely uninterested in this piece, let me present you with ten lines to guarantee sex with a person of your choice.

 

1. Hey gurl, I see you’re walking towards the bathroom. Is that cos you need to piss?

 

2. Guy: I can’t wait to come across your face!

Girl: But you know me already…

Guy: Waggle eyebrows suggestively and commence with speedy tongue flicking

 

3. Guy: Do you mind if I name your legs?

Girl: Sure.

Guy: Great – that’s Andre and that’s Peter.

Girl: Why would you name them that?

Guy: When I was in boarding school I would always have sex between them.

 

4. Can I buy you a drink or do you just want to give me a rimjob now? (Bonus points if you can pull this one off in a tyre shop.)

 

5. Did you know you’ve got lips just like my dad?

 

6. What do you like to eat for breakfast in the morning? LEFTOVER SAUSAGE???

 

7. Nice hips. We should have kids. Insert right index finger through loop made by left index finger and thumb repeatedly.

 

8. If I was a woman and I met myself, I would definitely not think twice about getting the morning after pill tomorrow.

 

9. Did you just fart or was that an invitation to browntown?

 

10. I read HEADLINE payoff.

 

Thanks for listening. I’m off to the bathroom to uh… um… just pass the hand lotion over there would you… thanks.

 

PW