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Sunday, July 25, 2004
Dude, I seriously cannot believe fucking uni is going back tomorrow. Worst. Holiday. EVAH. Not only did I not get to do anything fun, but the one goal I had wasn't fulfilled. No dates for Dawei! How... rude. What the hell is wrong with everyone? This city is full of fucking jerks, I am so outta here when I get my degree. Which, by the way, is totally happening next year. You'd think that my parents would be pleased that I'm, like, finally growing up and shit, but no. All Dad could do was look up briefly from his journal and snot out something like "mmm? Yes, well, good fucking luck getting a career with that piece of turd-encrusted toilet paper you call a degree you fucking cunting leech of a son". God, what a grouch. What did I ever do to him? I mean, yeah, I probably wont be able to get a career out of my current uni course, but I'm totally being all GAMSAT-y in January, so if I get into medicine I'll only be like, four years away from being financially free from him. Like, does he have no patience or something? Whatever. He's been in the worst mood lately, so I've been giving him my infamous cold treatment. All my friends are cunts, I have no time for family who also choose to be cunt-esque.

Actually, that's not quite true. A little group of us had a rather "sophisticated" dinner party for a friend's 21st on Saturday night, and it was pretty good. I felt pretty mature and shit. Like, I busted out my expensive-ass boot-y shoes and wore a proper shirt and everything! I even brought a bottle of wine! I'm such a polite guest. Of course it was pretty cheap wine, because I couldn't steal any of my parent's stash without being busted, and Dad's aforementioned hideous mood of late would have seen me walkin' funny if he caught me pilfering some of his fine merlot. The wine I bought had a totally sick looking label (and wasn't even a goon bag!), so I felt all sophisticated and grown up. I mean, red wine is always classy right?

It was pretty weird though. There were only like, seven people there, and they were all coupled up except me. So that was a bit embarrassing, but once I started cracking into the wine and champagne I didn't mind so much. The champagne was a bit of a foolish mistake, as I was quickly fucked out of my brain, without even noticing it. I guess it was because I was sitting down and stuff, and there was no second-hand smoke wafting around or cruisy bar-beats to give me an immediate buzz. But yeah, I was soon rather pissed. And I suppose that lowered the whole classy-vibe thing we had going. I mean, I wasn't the only offender, but when I'm pissed I tend to babble and fill empty dead air with mindless dronings, so maybe I should have like, directed the conversation in a more... I don't know, socially acceptable way or something. I mean, it's okay when it's just me and my close friends, but ugh. I so need to like, read a newspaper or watch the news or something. Sometimes I am dumb.

Of course, my mindless conversations are generally rather entertaining, so I'm in no real rush to change. I think an example of one of our conversations was like:

  • Reminiscing about Schoolies Week, which lead to
  • how many people everyone shagged on Schoolies Week, which lead to
  • my friend stalking his soon-t0-be-then-girlfriend, which lead to
  • me stalking that hot dude who worked at Coles (I was so not stalking him... we had a good rapport!). Hrmph. Anyway, that lead to
  • how the aforementioned Coles stalkage was my worst moment of courting the same sex, which lead to
  • me telling them it wasn't, and detailing a remarkably terrible shag in a bathroom in France, which lead to
  • discussion as to whether Sirius Black and Remus Lupin from Harry Potter were fucking or not (they are so totally in love), which lead to
  • the idea of having a picnic next weekend, and who would bring Twister.

    Although, looking back on that, I guess we covered all the basics: history (Schoolies), literature (Harry Potter), sports (Twister), travel (France), society (homos). I mean, what else is there to talk about? Like, Michael Moore or something? Ugh. Bitch, please.

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