What the cock is that shit? #1

Welcome to the first instalment in what promises to be a one-instalment series of poorly thought out blog posts that I’ve perhaps foolishly called ‘What the cock is that shit?’.

“What the cock is that ‘What the cock is that shit?’ shit?” you cry with your bewildered idiot’s mouths. It is this shit, I reply. This shit right here. This shit that you’re reading in the absence of anything better to do.

‘What the cock is this shit?’ is a segment of this thriving internetsblog in which your intrepid correspondent (me) finds a thing that inspires curiosity, wonder or arousal and which I will probe thoroughly in order that we might further our collective understanding of the world. So what are we waiting for? Let’s throw ourselves headlong into the cocky, cocky shit…

Shit #1 – The Olza ‘Prince Polo XXL’ Classic (od 1955 roku)

PrincePoloXXL

Just look at this bastard! The Olza ‘Prince Polo XXL’ Classic (od 1955 roku) is a handsome beast of a whatever it is. I think it is a foodstuff. It’s quite good because you can pick it up and hold it and take a photo of yourself picking it up and holding it with some monkeys or gibbons or whatever the hell those things behind me are. Whatever they are they’re angry and they say you owe them money.

I particularly like the many-layered nomenclature of the Olza ‘Prince Polo XXL’ Classic (od 1955 roku). I really can’t say that I understand any of it, although perhaps the ‘XXL’ indicates that there are a variety of smaller Olza ‘Prince Polo’ Classic (od 1955 roku), all the way through the Olza ‘Prince Polo XL’ Classic (od 1955 roku) and Olza ‘Prince Polo L’ Classic (od 1955 roku) to the Olza ‘Prince Polo M’ Classic (od 1955 roku) and diminutive Olza ‘Prince Polo S’ Classic (od 1955 roku). I simply don’t know.

How would you advertise the Olza ‘Prince Polo XXL’ Classic (od 1955 roku)? In its native country, wherever that might be, I expect the titular Prince Polo rides a splendid horse through the woods, surveying his lands with his flashing orange eyes as his head lolls uselessly about his stupid shoulders. ‘OLZA!’ he bellows, firing searing blasts of laser light through the tiny hearts of woodland creatures, leaving them naught but blackened carcasses in the undergrowth. His horse pulls up to the camera, the words ‘OD 1955 ROKU’ flash up on the screen and Prince Polo gives a great big shiteating grin with his metal teeth. ‘Classic!’ he hisses through his iron dentistry. The advert ends.

But that’s enough of the world of advertising. What of the world of actual things? Let’s unwrap this fucker:

PrincePoloXXLOpen

Well how about that? It’s some sort of chocolate biscuit. I really was expecting there to be a little car inside or for it to be a teddy bear that plays music, but all along the Olza ‘Prince Polo XXL’ Classic (od 1955 roku) was a chocolate biscuit. Crazy! There’s only one thing to do with a chocolate biscuit, and that’s to throw it immediately in the bin.

Fuck you, Olza ‘Prince Polo XXL’ Classic (od 1955 roku). I don’t care how good roku might have been in 1955, your biscuit is stupid and I hate it and I hate you. I’m going to lie on the beach and be playfully pecked by big sexy seagulls and forget this sorry affair ever happened.

Stay tuned for ‘What the cock is that shit? next time, folks!

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