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Saturday, July 05, 2003
I never knew how much fun getting shitfaced with Dad on an expensive bottle of red while watching Neighbours could be until last night. Actually, it was heaps more fun than the shite bar where I later graced with my presence. Maybe that says something about me or something. Am I a lot more... simple than I think I am?

Anyway, the highlight was Dad snarling at Delta Goodrem when she came onscreen "oh, go fuck yourself, Delta!", and then recanting five minutes later saying "I feel sorry for Delta, having to work with people from Neighbours. Isn't she a 'star' now?" Indeed, Dad.

The lowlight was him telling me that I had Jack-hair. Great. For all you plebs who don't watch Neighbours (and I must ask, why the hell don't you?! Best show ever! Well, it used to be. Sort of. In a crap way. Shut up.), Jack (Jay Bunyan. Go Google search whoring!) has cancerous rat 'tard hair. At first I was horrified that my suspicions that I had a cancer-esque coiffure were true, but now a more startling realisation has occurred to me: cancerous hair is the new faux-techno-mullet! Like, it's meant to look like that. Hopefully I wont look as much as a poseur as the total fugmo losers who sported the faux-techno-mullet, but I'm choosing to believe that my sick chop is soon to be gracing the "Hot" sections of teen magazines. I just can't believe that my hair artiste would give me an assy cut on purpose, especially a few days before my not!date with Hot (Straight) Canadian Dude.

I offer you one final piece of proof: Mr James Campbell, Obviously Gay Dude himself. From what I can recall of Popstars, OGD (gay-)prided himself on being all stylish and shit. Actually, I remember one of the chicks lamenting his passing, as with OGD gone, noone would be able to tell her what to wear. Anyway, he has total cancer hair. I'll have you know that my cancer hair is far more bangin' than his. Obviously he went to a bargain basement place to get his hair treatment (geddit? Hair treatment, cancer treatment? See what I did there? I'm funny). Actually, the budget of his latest promo shoots must have been pretty damn low. What's with the earrings? What's with the "bling" around your neck? If ironic commentary on the r'n'b phenomenon didn't work with Scott "Whack Hands" Cain, I doubt it will work for you. As not only are you white, you're a faggot. I mean, black skivvy turtlenecks? Dogtags? Please. You will get your ass kicked.

And dude: what's with the cargo pants? And the scraggly chest pubes? And the Calvin Kleins awkwardly sticking up in that in that "it took fifteen minutes for this band to be casually displayed" way? As Ruth says: "the 90s called, and they never want their outfit back again".