Sunday, October 10, 2004
So John Howard is our Prime Minister once again. What a shock! I mean, oh phooey. Damn those Liberal voting scum! *shakes blogging fist* Actually, I changed my vote and went with the Greens so I feel gypped for being a swing voter. Like, what a waste of a vote! Well, voting Green is usually a waste of a vote anyway, but y'know. I usually like to support the winners. But hello, Labor, get a clue. Politics isn't about politics, it's about charisma. Why don't they just put forward a nice, well-spoken, decent-looking leader who is willing to shake things up a bit? People are stupid. I totally should run for politics or whatever. Of course, I'd probably run under the Liberal party so that wouldn't change much. At least I'm taller than Johnny H. and have better eyebrows and stuff.
Last night was Cap Guy and my one month anniversary! Woo! That's totally like, three years in homo years. I'm so totally monogamous. We had dinner with two other homosexual couples who are sort of friends with him. How embarrassing. I hope that will be a rare thing, there were too many poofters at that table. They didn't really like me much, I don't think. One guy stuck his hand down my pants twice, so the other guy got mad at me, and the main friend of Cap Guy hated me, and ranted at him about how I was Eurotrash (despite being like, Australian and stuff), and I'm just a common young twinky handbag. Hello, I'm not common (twinky handbag... maybe). I could buy six of you, all faux-expensive ugly streaked hair and Freedom furniture owning. Like, they own a plug in patio fountain and served quiche. How tacky. Cap Guy told me not to worry about it, as they just try to project the image of being in "the lifestyle", but can't really afford it. So ha! Suck on it, wanky poseur-y friends! I'll send you a postcard from my life with my million-a-month man. Crap. I am a trashy twinky handbag.
Seeing I've been in a long-term relationship now, I think it's okay if I note some of his faults. That's okay, right? I mean, venting is better than bottling it up, right? It's not like they're bad things I guess.
1. Doesn't watch TV, and rolls his eyes heavily if I want to watch Neighbours or Six Feet Under. Dude, you can suck on my balls in an hour. Chill.
2. Is more insecure than I am, and is really paranoid and gets jealous. Like, for some reason five of my past shags have rung me up this week seeing "what's happening", and he gets all quiet and mean and bitter and is all "faggots only have one thing on their mind" and thinks I'm going to run off and fuck them. Gross, as if! So yeah, get more trusting, biatch.
3. Uhm... ... Uhm... I can't think of another. Ugly feet?