I’m past the half-way mark of bankingcommish and jeez it feels good! It’s all downhill from here! (I wish). Woooooooooo! I’m going to bind this shit up at the end of the year and send it to the National Library for filing in their history section. I’m sure they’ll be amenable to my submission. Fuckers.

Lately, I’ve been punishing myself around the 3.2km Princes Park track like an inefficient steam locomotive (and puffing just as much) and feel the need to tell everyone that I’ve been doing exercise because it somehow validates my endeavours, thus engendering me with a sense of purpose and self-fulfilment not achieved by the act of exercising alone. Yeah! Look out for me next week when I’ll be ‘checking in’ at the local gym and making a veiled comment on Facebook about how hard my workout was after…

“OMG, I’m soooooooo sore after that big Spin session with the guys, feeling great though can’t wait to get out there and do it again! Bring it on!” (tag friends that also attended low-intensity workout with you in order to promote a feeling of accomplishment within the group).

Just. Fuck. Off.

After the run I went and got a $10 bottle of red wine from the little bottleshop around the corner to celebrate how good I’ve been lately. Safe to say, it’s like drinking pure gasoline. Delicious…

I find myself getting more and more disaffected with Facebook and the extroverted fucktards hijacking it to peddle their manufactured lives but I’m somehow unable to pull the plug on it once and for all. I’m like a junkie trying to flush the last of their stash down the toilet; I might have all the best intentions in the world but when it comes down to it, I’m smoking the rest of that ice and robbing a convenience store and there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it…

What if my friends have a party and I don’t know about it? What if I miss a friend’s birthday? Also, I’ll miss all those photos of my friends new dogs/babies/boyfriends/girlfriends/houses/cars/jetskis/boats & engagement rings. I’d be a social outcast. I couldn’t handle it. My world would end. My life would not be worth living.

Yeah right.

Seriously though, I want all of you to take 5 minutes to check your news feeds and have a look at some of the reprobates pouring out their hearts on there. It’s enough to make you vomit on your fucking keyboard. The worst part? This is only the beginning – wait another 10 years and see how much these people are sharing with the rest of the world… It can only get worse. It’s time to pull the plug NOW.

I just de-friended a recently anointed mother on Facebook today due to the following status;

“I was feeding (baby’s name) and I realised that the thing I was feeding her with (incidentally, her breast) was bigger than her head. I mean, I was blessed before (inferring her breasts were large pre partum) but these things have just gotten so big since I’ve been feeding. It looks like I’ve had surgery!”

When I read this I actually heard my heart sigh inside my chest, pack a small bag of belongings and leave. It, like me, had had enough.


/end communication