THE STORY SO FAR...

Afternoon kids, or evening or morning or geez have you got some drug habit or do you do shift work cos no-one should be up this late...I think that is officially the longest intro to a printed rave ever. So last night was spitting venom and the usual bitchy onslaught at the television because Big Brother is back for a 6th season in Australia (so indulgent thinking someone outside Australia might actually stumble on this blog and read it) but the wheels are in motion again, that was truly a toolish and fucked up statement that one. Last night Gretel passed out her introductions for a cavalcade of Barbies and Kens. It looks like a fashion shoot for steroid munching, self assured energy vampires who kind of remove the air from the room when they are confined in a small space. They're here and they want everyone in the room to know about it...fact is some of them may well be lovely, fun loving people but in the right situation you know you would probably go each one with a Braun Stab Blender given the chance. Just to stop them from crapping all over your aura or whatever the hell you call that funk that makes you...you. Am II making sense? Let me tell you I'm re-reading it over and over again just to make sure this remains slightly funny without skipping with gay abandon into mental case land.

So yeah I could rabbit on for ages about who shits me, who is 'mosexual and who just needs to pull her face out of the 70's sun lamp and try and repair that 19 year old skin that looks like it should be shrink wrapped around an old lady with more cash then sense. It's like she's been smeared with vegemite and melted lolly bananas. No wonder it's a virgin, when you slide into bed with something that glows in the dark like some kind of fractured nuclear power plant you know you ain't interested. So Monday afternoon today and the operator of this keyboard is exhausted and potentially demented from working all weekend and having too little sleep. I sit before you making mouth love to 4 pieces of gum as I try and absorb any sweetness I can from their tired rubbery confines. It is a lost cause, this thing is only good for blowing bubbles with and even that is becoming more difficult. Having no refined sugar in ones diet does things to your cravings. Wish I was chewing cake! In the future I will chew synthetic bubble gum that replicates the exact taste of your favourite foods, not in a

'How the fuck did they honestly believe that this can of pine forest aerosol spray smells like a real pine forest'

way but in a

'Which fucko removed the gum from my mouth and replaced it with real, live fuck off cake flavour"

It probably won't be made available until around the time they replace my pensioner style teeth with steely, white cosmetic teeth designed by a super computer. I think the future will be fun and if it isn't then I'll write a letter to some crappy newspaper complaining of how the future was gonna be better back in my day. Anyway I have had enough of re-reading this all the time and there is a new episode of the Simpsons to watch with my tattoo inspired hero 'Sideshow Bob' in it so it's time too publish and bail on this.

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