Wednesday, September 5, 2012


Not to be confused with "moederloos" which is more often than not the case. No, today I lament the fact that I have to deal with such royal every day wankery. I have on many occasions before commented on how much I loathe personal admin. The grooming part I can handle - it's all the envelopes I get in the post that get me down.

Anyway, besides the droves of bandwagon passengers making their voices so vociferously heard against the despicable hiring practises of dear ol' Woolies from the safety of their office chairs, often also from behind the protective veil of a silly nick name, I am now also the victim of a rather large Municipal blunder. And I shudder to think what's in store for me when I pick up the phone and make any form of query. I already know the answer. My rates bill has been very badly miscalculated and has resulted in a monstrous amount due - one that I fucking flat out refuse to pay out of principle. However, they in their infinite wisdom, are going to insist on me settling the bill before attacking the problem with their 10 thumbs - half of which will no doubt be firmly lodged in their inept arses. I do not want to go to jail, but the chances of me maintaining a dignified level of decorum and not being tempted to turn to violence are slim indeed. I don't know if I have what it takes to get this resolved. That probably explains why I've been putting off the inevitable confrontation...

It's all fun and games 'til it's your turn.

Then there was the [insert noun describing an individual whose actions usually relate to pleasuring men with their mouth] in traffic this morning. I must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Usually I don't react with such voluminous expletives, but this oke was something else. He practically forced me into a 4m high solid concrete wall because he was too eager for that much cherished spot where I would have integrated into the flow of traffic. He clearly didn't agree with my remonstration.

And since that, there has been a steady procession of dickholes traipsing through my space all day, not doing my mood any good. Not to mention an insurance company that has mistakenly double charged me 2 months running. We'll see how long that takes to be sorted out.

At least I have a superawesome band rehearsal to look forward to this evening. Heaven help us all if someone contrives to fuck with that...

Don't even get me started on the motherfuckers that insist on fuelling the fires of idiocy on the Ramfest page. Let it be. You have a choice. Supply and demand. You are but one of many, many thousands. Most of whom do not share your oh-so-exquisite-and-unique taste. Take it as a compliment and concentrate your amazing super powers on something positive.

And a very happy birthday to Snottie and Big Wally! Hope both of you party like it's 1999! With some red balloons for good measure. Hope the year ahead is filled with all manner of wonder for both of y'all.

NGDG: I need oven gloves like Mitt Romney needs a beatdown.

Spread The Love. Shoplifters Of The World, Unite And Take Over.

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