A Lighthouse On St. Kilda's

Fuck me, but do I hate people. All people. Especially you. You, you new next-door neighbour, with your be-spoilered twatmobile and your repossessed Sanyo stereo. And in particular, I despise your love of crappy-poppy-dancey wank which you must listen to cranked upto 11 whilst you unpack your glitter-encrusted photo-frames and pink flip-flops. You've made me detest you so much, I will now have to spend every night in the pub rather than sit in the thin-walled hell-shack I call home and listen to you have phone-sex with your married boyfriend.*

And when I die of liver failure and bankruptcy, on your head be it.


*Names, dates and facts may be inaccurate due to beer.