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How fun it was on Mondays public holiday to be surrounded by close ones. By that I mean mates, friends, pals, hombres, cronies not family.

We watched that horrible movie Dick Tracy (it seemed to go for at least four hours) and David Lynch’s Wild At Heart (Which I dig but bit weird for my straight laced buddies). We cooked packets of garlic bread (lazy) and chicken nuggets (I did a quick cooking of a rump steak) and we spoke shit such as dialogue from Chopper, American Psycho, Anchorman. I had the accent of Nicolas Cage for some bizzare reason I couldnt break it. We were of course smoking weed from my faithful pipe.

Who would think that I used to drink not much else but rum and coke, cuz last nights few made were down right as tasty as a honey and soy marinated turkey. I cant believe the extent of road rage at the moment. Ive had four people in the last week and a half abuse me over very little or nothing at all. I just wave and smile looking as if I am retarded as they yell profanity to me through my open window as I have some loser metal band playing some lousy song. I am getting sick of the hostility however and may need to drink more Bundaberg Rum and become fight hungry towards these obnoxious pathetic excuses for humans. Calm down. I need medication or a drink of Nippys honeycomb milk. Maybe being addicted to alcohol was better but I wouldnt know cuz I failed to become one but I gave it a good try.

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