Melbourne I love you, especially when I'm in Geelong. Fuck yeah I love you. I hate Geelong. And the Nutbush. (Except the Nash)

I'm not so small minded that I actually think Geelong is the only guilty town. There are,without a doubt in my mind, people in other towns, other citys, and most definately in Melbourne somewhere; places on brunswick street are guilty of supporting, nurturing and providing a safe environment for people who don't have any taste in music; well people who don't really have any taste at all. And by people, I mean women. And by women I mean annoying women. And also by women, I mean girls included. They shop at womens stores, and throw together outfits with purchases from womens stores. "Oooh that must be nice because it came from a womens store, and I'm a woman, it must fit me". Actually its not nice at all, you look the same as every other female, you have the same hair as every other female, you have the same make-up and shoes as any other female who shops at Rockmans or Susssan (insert relevent shop to class catergory: ie Bourgiouse to David Jones). The younger generation of Sportsgirl shoppers who think their unique "indie" style is so alternative and not-the-same when actually, you look just the fuckin same. Somewhere in the middle, in-between Sportsgirl and Rockmans, the need to look like a hotter yet same version of your friends starts to shape those little tiny braincells, that believe it or not, you do have. And you start to constantly think about your weight, what your wearing, what your being seen listening too; and eventually you follow other people so much that you willl find yourself on a dance-floor wearing Sussan's summer collection dancing to the Nutbush. You make sure you can still remember all the song titles off Libertines Up The Bracket which you memorised the other day so you can be seen to have somekind of taste. Remember, you tagged along to Cherry Bar to "run into" a friend of a friends brother to whom you wanted to show off your knowledge because you didn't get a chance to at some party a few weeks ago where he was saying he wished he could be Pete Doherty, which is funny because you didn't have any knowlede of Pete even if you got a chance to talk, so you giggled, and then googled and found out who Pete Doherty was. And you were all like "awesome! I always wanted to be Kate Moss". 

So then you all look the same. Party the same. Have the same short conversations that don't really have any substance. Even compliments feel like payouts. Even dancing, or dressing up ,or laughing is out of the question. Unless your laughing at someone of course. You had better pay someone out to start a conversation, none of this "hi. I need your help, I'm doing an opinion poll on cookies and how you feel about them: Anzac or Choc Chip? It's an old debate that has been going on for, well obviously only a century of so, not really any longer because of the whole "meaning" behind the ANZAC "cookie"".
YOU'LL HAVE NONE OF THAT THANKME VERY MUCH!! It goes like this: "Oh you look so good", "Oh so do you", "Thanks, how are you anyways", "So good. You?", "So good", "How's ....?", "So good!! How's....?", "Yeah he's good. He's over there!", "Oh I might go say hi", "Yeah good. Oh. So. Good. To see you." "Oh you too. Love you".
So we've got rid of unique dress sense. Done. Unique music taste. Done. Unique ways of having fun. Done. Hmmm, The confidence to be unique? nope, done. What about unique conversation skills? Nope, Done. Unique topics of conversation. Done. Unique ways of thinking? Look, I'm going to say done. For fuck sake, these people are not individuals. One giggles, the other giggles. One loses weight, the other loses weight. One likes a top, the other gets it in black. Get it?

Good. So you want to be a certain kind of style, person, music lover, or whatever. But when someone of that style actually makes conversation with you, you have nothing. Nothing. You like stuff, apparantly, but you don't have opinions about what you like. You just like it. What did you really think about that album? What do you think of this solo album? What about the lyrics make you cry, laugh, feel something?????? Do even have fucking feelings?

You're going to end up dancing to the macarena, the time warp, the nut bush, dressed in sussan, or david jones, because you just do what the group does. I actually heard one of you last night say to herself: "I don't know why everyones getting up and going over there, but I'm going anyways". Fuck you.

Melbourne I love you but take off that god damn lambs wool vest and tarp up!

Since when did it become appropriate to inform strangers about your incessant disregard for condom usage as it imposes on your ability to “rock” one’s world? Just because you play guitar and wail with a screeching detachment from any known key, in a band of PE-teachers as charismatic as dust, does not give you the right to impose your “knowledge” of the industry and up-sell your so called “skills” to girls in order to bed them.  It might be alright if the sound you were producing was anything fresh, exciting or new. But the only thing fresh is the barely 18 year old girls, the only thing getting excited is your Johnson and the only thing new is every girl, because after just a few days they catch on that your a completely arrogant and self-obsessed cunt, who’s not as attractive as he thinks he is and actually has the personality of a pea. But peas don’t get Chlamydia and then have offensively loud casual fucks that reverberate up the spine of the household or offensively loud casual talks about how useless the young thing was in the sack, how she’s too curvaceous or how she suggested you use a condom which, thankfully you overrode because of your “charming” ability to convince a girl that she’s special and that there wasn’t a girl wailing “fuck me harder” yesterday, or another screaming “AHHH!!” the day before.  Promiscuity can be funny, I’m not a prude. But STD’s are not funny, and knowingly having rubber-less sexual intercourse with victims who are barely old enough or confident enough to stand up to you, without so much as visit to the clinic: not funny. What is funny is that at a young age you learned that women like being called darling or darl; but you conveniently forgot to factor in that it loses all meaning and swaying purpose when overused in every situation, it just makes you sound like a boy trying to be a man. It makes you sound manipulative and desperate, which you are.  And no-one even knows what your fucking favourite band is!!!? Go get another shit tattoo darl!