Home, finally, after a long day at work and a fantastic night with the incredible, fantastic, gorgeous Simone, who I wish would just come and live with me so I could hug her all the time, and get unnecessarily excited about pretty much nothing with her, and sing obscure, or out of date, or just plain embarrassing songs with her. I want to make her a blanket fort full of love and hugs and silliness, and we can hide in it together from all the shit that's going on.
But she can't, so we will wait till next year when we move to Adelaide so she can go to uni and I can do the tafe course that I didn't go do this year, and we will meet lots of new, interesting people, and decide we don't like them and then we will firebomb them. Actually, we'll just talk about it, maybe google it a bit, maybe set up elaborate alibis for each other, but we wont actually firebomb anyone, cause if you firebomb one then you have to firebomb them all, but there's too many. Even with two of us, you (we) can't firebomb them all.
Here's my analogy, eventually.
Lately, when looking at fabrics on ebay from America, I have found myself saying "I dont like any of them enough to get them all" and giving up. This is because, when buying fabrics from America, it is most economical to get about 7 yards from each seller. This is how much they can fit in a pouch, a pouch is $15ish, which spreads out over the seven yards. If you only get 2 yards, you're paying $7 a yard in postage, so the fabric itself would have to be way cheaper than it ever actually is. So, if I cant find at least 5 yards I like from a seller, I don't bother. It's not worth it, if I cant buy a full bag of it I'll just go into town and buy some.
There's no real alternative to firebombing, except for bitching about firebombing. The punishment for getting rid of one person you hate is gunna be the same for if you did away with all of them.
That's right, life in prison has just been equated with a standard international flat rate postage pouch. Of course, they are different, which is why I sometimes have a big shop, whereas Simone and I haven't sent out the invites to a big, highly explosive party at a large house about 7km west of Mt Shank.
Because some people (creepy chicken man, for instance) wouldn't attend. We cant firebomb them all, so we don't get to firebomb any of them.
We can, however, do a fantastic version of Punk Rocker, and drown out the drunk chicks ruining Paradise by the Dashboard Lights, even though they have mics and we do not.
We can do that because we are awesome.