Sitting around all afternoon attempting to finish Foucault's Pendulum (DAMN, it's getting good!) and listening to the pathetically crap band playing at the after-Ball recovery at the college next door, I have formulated the following edict:
Come the RevolutionTM:
- Bands will need a Certificate of Competance before being permitted to even attempt to play Beastie Boys.
- Males attempting to sing the female parts in dance songs (ala Bust a Move) or any song by the Bangles will have their testicles removed in an effort to improve their performance. (Yes, this goes for you too, Human Nature.)
- The Constitution will state firmly that the lead guitar must always be turned up louder than the bass.
- Fuckwits in utes will be shot on sight. (For Americans and other non-Australians, a ute is a 'utility vehicle' corresponding roughly to an American truck, I think. Basically, it is what Aussie farmers (usually of sheep) use to get around their properties. It has a cabin, usually seating two, occasionall (and pretentiously) seating four or five and a tray on the back, in which you usually put hay and your compliant children. People driving them anywhere with a population of more than 20 are redneck hicks and have an annoying tendency to perform donuts on any available grassed area, especially in the middle of the night.)
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