Monday in the office, what is there to say? I got in early, hours before anybody else, and I got out early, mid afternoon. I fucked off at 3pm. And I survived the ordeal.
Ha ha.
It was a great shame, great shame, he says, it was a tragedy what happened in Mexico to those two boys from Perth. Their parents will never get over it. My bitch aunt’s son was killed, the good son, not the shit son, and she never got over it. Never. My dad, who never said a bad word against anyone, said my bitch auntie didn’t need a tragedy to make her a bitch, and she was a right cow. Fucken hideous, really.
I asked my mum if she was going to get in touch with the bitch sister when they were both old and the last ones left, and mum said, “Oh, no, I’d never have chosen her for a friend, Christian.”
Never the less, you can’t help but feel sorry for the parents of those two boys.
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