dekka7

Woke up feeling strange and out of sorts this morning. And no, it's not simply because my holidays are coming to an untimely end either, before you say.

Am having dinner this evening with my good buddy Mark and his delectable flatmate Claire. A bottle or two of Jack and some Indian food - sounds good huh?
Yet I can't seem to get motivated this day at all, sitting here in my shorts at my dead brother's Mac. Can't see the point in going back to work either. Those bastards are sucking the life out of me. . . The fucking gaffer called me first thing to tell me my rota had been changed. Why the bastard felt the burning need to interupt my well earned break with this stress inducing news is beyond me, or no - wait, it isn't. HE'S AN ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!
Suppose I'd better get in the shower and scrub my sinful (I bloody well wish) flesh, make my self beautiful for stimulating female company later. Oh, and the wife's coming with me. The one highlight this a.m. is I just got the only CD ever released by The Drama in the mail. It's an EP called Nothing Can Tear Us Apart, and it's fucking phenomenal! The Drama, for all you SG devotees, is the band whose unreleased song accompanies the delicious Nixon Suicide's segment of the First Tour SG DVD. The EP doesn't disappoint either. Thirteen minutes worth of solid riffage soaked attitude in four songs - brilliant. The perfect accompanyment to my vile mood. . .

Hope I improve by this evening, or they'll be no living with me. . .