Dying a Thousand Deaths
So House is aring right now in the states, I have to wait till tomorrow after uni watch it at the bunker whilst the US is Homekeying themselves into comas and collective pants shitting like it were free-laxative-cookie-month and the only alternative food was cloves and baking sod.
I went around town today looking for something to wear to my sister's 21st this Sat which is going to be held at a place called "Uber" where the hip kids and too-retarded-to-be-tragicly-hip hang out, so already we hit a snag. I had a look at FCUK, Myer, Bardot and any place in between for a "party dress" and 100% of the time I thought to myself... "I hate everything here, you can't even PAY me to wear this, this looks cheap, this is over priced, this is is poorly made, this is cut to make even runway modles look pregnant, this is fugly - burn it with fire"
Raaaaagggg! So I have nothing to wear and nothing I could stand to wear. I hate this city sometimes.




