So there I was, arm hooked up to the machine, watching my plasma swirl away into a bag while the morning news dribbled across the screen like a bad fever dream. And what were they showing? A "riot" in Melbourne, allegedly. The sort of riot where the real thugs wear body armour, carry pepper spray and look like they just walked off the set of RoboCop. The people they were beating? A ragtag crew of teenagers and old hippies—probably fresh out of a drum circle, still smelling of patchouli. But sure, let's call it a riot. Now, here's where it really gets good. I mentioned this spectacle to a few people later, thinking maybe they'd share my outrage or, at the very least, give a damn. But no. What did I get instead? A smirk, a chuckle, and—oh, the pièce de résistance—"You should really just let it go." Let it go? Yeah, let me uncork a nice, overpriced cup of coffee, sit back with my legs crossed, and soak in the latest reality TV trash. Why bother caring when ...
Comments
No wonder I am feeling so tired and generally cranky
You are so sensitive!
It's amazing how you handle the lack of sleep Kris. You must be either stoic or delirious or permanently cheerful.
Hope you're getting sleep now
Tania, I heard that Evie is now swearing like a warfie. Good stuff!
Julie, it is lamentable.
Uma por Dia, my wife thinks that I am INsensitive, and I fear that she might be right...
Kitty. they are lookers. Still no sleep though...