July 01, 2003 @ 12:44 a.m.
I wish I'd never gone there with that...

Note to self: that stupid "One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor" rhyme is meant to be a joke, not a guide on how to spend your weekend. Seriously. Also, sitting at the kitchen table to do said tequila shots and shouting "Ole!" after each one does not count as socialising.

I've discovered that Deirdre and our friend Tish have a nefarious plan to take over the Australian government. They're going to run as the Liberal and Labor heads to get into power. It doesn't matter who goes in what party as their beliefs and politics are the same. Either way, Australia gets a decent government with decent policies. I pointed out that this could have some flaws, namely being that people might suddenly start wondering why the Libs have a social conscience.

I've scored well, though, because both have promised me that when they get into power, I'll get the role of head of the censorship board. I think it's a job I'd excel at, because I've probably got my finger on the pulse of What Australia Thinks About Sex and Violence more than your average censor. And let's face it, the job involves watching porn and violent films and then yammering on about them to people. Throw in some beer and the occasional pizza, and you have my life anyway.

I've always admired my friends' nack for politics and issues, however. I was crap at politics when I studied it in first year, and I admit I have trouble grasping some of the finer points of political arguments at times. I'd be a crap politician too: all my policies would involve mandatory hotpants. Then again, at least I'd have policies. Maybe I should become the leader of the Labor party.

Also, I have realised that there seems to be some kind of correlation between me acting in a somewhat sexually uncouth manner in public, and Cypress Hill. Not that I'm suggesting they're responsible for the lewd public encounters I've had in my time, but they have been linked to a couple of them. Or incidental, at any rate. And considering said lewd encounters rarely have any more soundtrack than grunting and the occasional "Oh yeahhhhh!", you can see why I'm somewhat perturbed. It could be much worse though. I think if I was giving head in a car in a busy parking lot on a Friday night (for example) and Cliff Richard came on the radio, that would be much worse. That would be enough to put me off my...no, look, that joke just isn't going to go anywhere remotely savoury, so I think I'll just drop it. Also, I'd start wondering what the hell I was doing wasting my precious time on someone who listens to a radio station that would play Cliff Richard.

And now, with that last paragraph, I've made this humble little page of mine vulnerable to getting hits through Google searches for "Cliff Richard nude". Ay ay ay. I shan't be sleeping well tonight. Not with Cliff Richard prancing around nude in my head.

Sweet dreams!

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