Boxing Day, Australia. We have the chance to have lovely neighbours on the left. Not right next door, but two doors down. The husband, every time he feels like tinkering outside, likes to blast his sound system for the whole neighbourhood to hear. Never mind that we might not feel like listening to his old time hits for seven hours straight. He wants to; therefore we do too. This brings Boxing Day.
Every Boxing Day, he and his lovely (Barbie C*nt B*tch of a) wife throw a party for friends and family. Most of my suburb just makes arrangements to be elsewhere and, more importantly, out of earshot for the day. Because yes, it goes on from like noon till 9pm.
Well, today, it went on. And on. Well past 9 o'clock tonight we were treated to really bad Karaoke at 10,000 watts. Around 10, they quietened down and we thought they were done for the night, but no. No. They were having a BBQ. As soon as all that burned meat was eaten, the dreadful singing resumed. At half past midnight we had enough and called the cops. At 1 am I guess the cops showed up because the music cut out rather sharply and the bitch started ranting and screaming that neighbours had dared to call the cops on them and that she was going to go and buy a shovel at Bunnings (that's a hardware store) and come and find our (as in, whichever neighbours has done the deed - she doesn't know whom) dogs and cats and bury them. And this went on for a good hour as they made the most noise possible while picking up their shit and cleaning up their backyard. It's now well past 2 and the tart has only just put a sock in it, her sniveling, spineless twit of a husband managing to FINALLY pull her inside their house.
Stupid c*nt b*tch.
If you can't hold your alcohol, don't fucking drink.
If you can't abide by society's guidelines, go fucking live in the woods.
I don't care which day of the year it is.
In other news, we had a good time having a late Christmas lunch with friends up on the Central Coast today and I'm sure E & D are shaking their heads, wondering why we didn't hang around their place longer. Short of sleeping there tonight, nothing would have saved us from that crap singing we got hammered with all evening.Before I forget, for those who might have missed it, there's a nice interview here with Jason Momoa about Ronon Dex: Warrior Within.
And I came across this the other day: Having a Baby Just Makes You More Pissed.
"When I had a child, everyone was telling me that I was going to see the world through her eyes, and everything was going to get this nice gloss to it. I kept waiting for that to happen, and thought there was a real problem with me that it wasn't," reports Mr. Vedder.
And in my case, it's true. And actually, I thought long and hard about whether I wanted to bring a child into this world. My faith in Humanity isn't at an all-time high...
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