Emerging from the cheesecake

I'm hungover and depressed, like hopefully lots of other people (but not enough to make a fucking difference). My hangover is a sugar low after the huge amount of cheesecake I wolfed down in front of something really fluffy on video late last night in a desperate attempt to block out the smug face of that CUNT. What else can I say? That air of democratic duty I mentioned yesterday turned out to be the haze of desperation of a population of scared piggies in the middle. If I wasn't so in love with a man who likes Canberra, I'd move to NZ. Give me time to work on him.