Shit on the Liver

I fuckin' hate christmas. And that is because it is cheap, trashy and stressful. How is anyone supposed to 'enjoy' themselves when they are meant to. Stupid bloody thing.

So I went to the market today, and it rained and everything seemed a bit gloomy. Met up with AM and LP and bitched about the weather. I told AM that it felt good to be back with my people, and that I needed some traditional food. She said oh my god, so I started singing My Island Home, which I think should be some kind of Tasmanian anthem. Yes, today I embraced my cultural heritage, and appreciated the Tas aesthetic. There's nothing like a good solid Tasmanian man with a massive beard, polar fleece and sandals with socks, buying organic produce from someone with more unfortuate body odour than their own. I have a nasty feeling that Tasmanian women are slightly more hirsute than women from other parts of Australia. It is a scary little place I tell you.

To more pressing matters:

I am watching Rage and it is shitting me to tears, because I think perhaps I hate The Strokes more than I despise that evil and thankfully dead Jeff Buckley. The Srokes seem to make fairly godawful music, but to salt the wound further, they are also eejits. I hate the faux stoned rock star voice.

AM just sent me a text about the masturbatory rock on Rage.

I think that just about relieves me of my burden.