I’ve realised
in life that there are some things that you can’t whinge about to anyone. For
instance, the Awful People are here again. That’s what I woke up to today,
after drugs at Perry and Wesley’s last night. The Awful People.
Ab’s no hoper
friends.
Betsy-Anne
and Bobby-Joe. They just seem to wander around Australia sponging off people. Whoever
they are? I have no idea. I just know that they come and if it’s for more than
an evening, it’s too long. And they stay and they seem to stay. Until I hide in
my room, or risk being corner by Betty-Joe or Billy-Joe as they enthuse in too
much of a similarity to Magda Szbanski’s sweaty character with the neck brace,
for my liking.
What are they
doing here again?
Ah! Am I to
be spared nothing?
But they are Ab’s friends and there are just
something’s you have to grit your teeth and act dignified about. With class,
always carry yourself with class, isn’t that what they say? Treat others as you
would want them to treat you. But I want to know, where class ends and fuck
off! starts?
Ab never asks me, they just turn up. More fool me.
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