OK ladies and gentleman excuse me while I jump up onto my soap box. Right, now that I’m here let me look down on you all from the dizzying height that is my personal opinion.
Stop complaining! Please for the sake of my sanity and the rest of us who don’t give a damn about your social life.
Who really cares if your favourite band doesn’t want to make the ‘mammoth’ one and a half hour flight from Sydney to play? Who really cares if there aren’t any places for live bands to gig? Who really cares if the clubs play lame music?
Who??? Not me. Definitely. (OK, maybe I care about the lame music bit but really it’s not that important).
But it seems there are quite a few of you out there who do care. It also seems you all get a kick out of complaining about it in my presence. Maybe it’s a conspiracy.
Public transport is your favourite place to torture me. When I’m trapped amongst a mass of sweaty human bodies I hear you voices floating at me from across the aisle.
“Oh my god I can’t believe how crap Brisbane is.”
“Why do we have to live in such a hole?”
“There is, like, nothing on this weekend”.
Please just stop! Maybe if you’re nice to me, Karma will be nice to you. Because we all know that Karma has the power to bring groovy tunes, awesome gigs and Hilltop Hoods to Brisbane. And if we are all really nice, she might kick Keith Urban out.
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2 comments:
I never ever said this to you...you mean, mean, mean, meanie.
haha how rediculously similar are ours
we might be twins
i think your red hair and my brown hair is the give away
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