I made the mistake of getting on the loser cruiser this morning without my trusty MP3 player. It’s not the lack of music that drives me insane, but the inane drivel that people talk about, in their fucking annoying accents, spouting absolute ignorance, speaking loudly enough that the whole bus has to hear the poisonous shite that comes vomiting from their pie-holes.
Normally I get frustrated at stupid teenagers, with their motherfucking this and motherfucking that, and the general bullshit and posturing that goes along with being a teenager. “Fuck that bitch, she is such a slut, I’ll fucking smash her, I don’t even care cos she is just a dick au”. You may think, how rich it is for YOU to be complaining about foul fucking language – but you know what? I don’t talk like that, unless I initially make it very shitting clear that I’m about to fucking embark on a cunting rant. Teenage swearing is all bollocks, it’s just a peer pressure thing, talking yourself up, trying to be the big man (even the girls). But in some ways I can forgive the ignorance of teenagers – I don’t want to fucking listen to them, but pretty soon they’ll find out what the real world is like – and if they stay the same posturing ignorant louts who think they can solve their problems with aggression and disrespect, they’ll either end up in some shit job in some shit town, or they’ll go to prison. And fuck ’em. Out of my sight, out of my mind.
What drives me up the wall is small-minded, middle-aged, self-important, stick-their-fucking-beaks-into-everyone-elses-fucking-business, think-they-know-everything-about-everything gobshites who go on to preach their particular brand of nonsense to anyone who might listen. Don’t get me wrong, gossip has it’s rightful place, but fuck it drives me mad when people spout nasty opinions about people they don’t know. I don’t want to be sexist, but it’s ususally women, and they ALWAYS seem to having one of those annoying whiney voices that’s just slightly too high and they elongate the last syllable of each sentence so it whines on longer and grates on the ear so much that your hand involuntarily makes a fist and you just feel like lashing out at something. Like Australians. (yes Brad, I just realised it’s just like the thing you do).
Today I had to listen to some up-herself BITCH go on and on about how Edmund Hillary’s family were squabbling over his watches (WTF??? How is that even News? it’s even fucking coming up in my “suggested links” but I’m not going to fucking link to that fucking shit) and how they were all nasty people who could barely hide their contempt for each other (irony much?), and how she didn’t think Edmund Hillary should have been named one of NZ’s greatest people “I mean what did he do in life? He climbed a mountain and I heard he didn’t even get to the top first, that was his sherpa Tanzang or whatever his name was, something ethnic anyway, and anyway I think it’s awful how he left the rest of his team behind and he just went off on his own, to get all the glory for himself…” and on, and on, and on.
What. The. Fuck! Lady, you don’t know SHIT. I bet you the furthest you have been from middle New Zealand is some shopping jaunt to Sydney, and the furthest you have been from the middle-class life you clearly enjoy is when you spent an hour and a half helping out at the local poor-people school jumble sale. There was just so much WRONG with what she was saying that I don’t know what to say about it…
I’m no expert on Sir Edmund Hillary, and for all I know he may have a bit of a selfish bastard, but if he was, he was a fucking AWESOME selfish bastard who did a huge amount for New Zealand and the Sherpa people and moutain climbers and outdoor enthuiasts everywhere. Just looking at his wiki page, he was named by Time magazine as one of the 100 most influential people of the 20th century. I think TIME FUCKING MAGAZINE know a bit more about the world than you do, you stupid bint.
Soon… soon I will be done with the Wellington loser cruiser…
Destiny, Fate and Luck (did I mention it was a rhyming poem? and purposely crappy?)
Like chicken, goose and duck (it’s not surrealism – it’s a metaphor… just keep reading)
So many feathers to pluck (see!)
Before in you may tuck (force that word to fit!)
You run amok (amok is how you should spell it – though it is said amuck)
and come unstuck (why do we “come” unstuck? why don’t we “go” unstuck?)
You shovel muck (you may have noticed the tempo has changed in this middle bit)
to make a buck (that is on purpose – you’re meant to read these lines faster)
You preen and pluck (oops. I’ve used this rhyme twice. But I like this line)
When you’re heartstruck (struck to the heart, and you’re to blame…)
But end up looking a schmuck (and now it slows down again)
And friends just say ‘bad luck’ (in case you haven’t realised, I’m introducing the idea of what Luck is)
Luck, Destiny and Fate (and now I start on Fate. Destiny doesn’t rhyme with anything)
Sits on us like a weight (like your momma)
Do not procrastinate! (I thought about using “prevaricate” here – but it’s a bit poncy)
it’s time to find a mate! (this verse has a clearer direction)
Your goal on dates? (I wrote gaol on dates and had a little chuckle to myself).
to fornicate. (<— Set course heading )
but cocktease Kate (this is no-one in particular, just a name that rhymes)
likes to frustrate (I like this rhyme)
inebriate (I know this is a verb, not an adjective. it’s called poetic license)
you’ll masturbate (obviously I had to get this word in somewhere)
For love, is it too late? (*wistful*)
Oh fickle fronds of fate. (check it out, alliteration!)
Oh Destiny, Fate and Luck, they SUCK!
And Luck, Destiny and Fate, I HATE!
So Fate, Destiny and Luck, get FUCKED!