Friday, September 25, 2009
The Hobo Files
Just posting to promote this spanking new humor site that's big on amusement. The blogger is a newly laid-off fashionista cum beauty junkie who is currently struggling to keep her Louboutins on amidst the recession.
Surprisingly, the blog is full of interesting articles with actual tips and tricks and useful insights on surviving the recent economic slump in style.
The latest story is on scam sites that desperate hobos like her tend to run to in desperation and that which do nothing but clean out their bank accounts further. A totally fun and enjoyable read! :D
Don't forget to pay for your laughs via Paypal (there's a link on the site). "Her Hoboness," as the writer refers to herself, is trying hard to entertain you while making ends meet, after all.
Enjoy!
http://herhoboness.blogspot.com/
Surprisingly, the blog is full of interesting articles with actual tips and tricks and useful insights on surviving the recent economic slump in style.
The latest story is on scam sites that desperate hobos like her tend to run to in desperation and that which do nothing but clean out their bank accounts further. A totally fun and enjoyable read! :D
Don't forget to pay for your laughs via Paypal (there's a link on the site). "Her Hoboness," as the writer refers to herself, is trying hard to entertain you while making ends meet, after all.
Enjoy!
http://herhoboness.blogspot.com/
Friday, February 23, 2007
Moving...Moving...Moving...
...well not really...but you might want to check out my blog at MySpace...the posts come in tiny bite-sized pieces for people who only have like 30 seconds to read each of the 9876543456789876 daily posts in their friends' blog lists...
Same snarky goodness without the bulk...here ya go...
Here clicky clicky...
Enjoy the insanity!
o.O
Same snarky goodness without the bulk...here ya go...
Here clicky clicky...
Enjoy the insanity!
o.O
Thursday, January 04, 2007
yo Quiero Taco Bell... o.O
Few things are more catastrophic, more wretched, more dire than having to go back to work after a rare break from the grind. Although 18 days of doing absolutely nothing seem like more than enough time to sufficiently recuperate from the tortures of the hellhole aka “the office,” it’s not at all enough to make up for the multiple near-heart attacks and aneurysms on “the job.”
Indeed, this is one of those moments when no matter how totally gross Paris Hilton’s crab-infested coochie may be, I’d seriously consider trading places with the world-renowned celebutard and consequentially inherit the offending baby-making factory if it means a lifetime of being rich and famous albeit for being a bumbling idiot.
Heck, I’d gladly don those tacky skin-tight leopard dresses and expose my love-flaps to mydisgusted adoring public every chance I get. Knickers are overrated after all and could be gawddamn costly. The money saved from total abandonment of those flimsy overpriced undergarments could instead go to supporting aspiring porn stars starving orphans everywhere.
I’d even date her revolting boyfriends in all their puke-inducing glory. Seriously now… Nick Carter? Brandon Davis? Travis Barker? Stavros Niarchos? All that money and all she could find are horrid asshats with a built-in aversion to soap and water? But heck, I’d kiss them all if it means not having to work another day.
Gaaaah…
What am I saying wanting to be Paris Hilton? See? See how work is messing with my brain right now? x.x I’d sooner feast on mangrove worms doused in an icky concoction of ground exotic organisms but first lemme just find a chihuahua to stab work with… o.o
Indeed, this is one of those moments when no matter how totally gross Paris Hilton’s crab-infested coochie may be, I’d seriously consider trading places with the world-renowned celebutard and consequentially inherit the offending baby-making factory if it means a lifetime of being rich and famous albeit for being a bumbling idiot.
Heck, I’d gladly don those tacky skin-tight leopard dresses and expose my love-flaps to my
I’d even date her revolting boyfriends in all their puke-inducing glory. Seriously now… Nick Carter? Brandon Davis? Travis Barker? Stavros Niarchos? All that money and all she could find are horrid asshats with a built-in aversion to soap and water? But heck, I’d kiss them all if it means not having to work another day.
Gaaaah…
What am I saying wanting to be Paris Hilton? See? See how work is messing with my brain right now? x.x I’d sooner feast on mangrove worms doused in an icky concoction of ground exotic organisms but first lemme just find a chihuahua to stab work with… o.o
Sunday, October 08, 2006
I Wanna Be a supermodel... o.o
Found this in John Mayer's blog, don't ask...and I thought it would be fun to try... :P
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Of Cars and Coke...
August is almost over and I’m posting not because I ran into Johnny Depp through some clever twist of fate and want to make you guys jealous but because I don’t want a blank month in my blog archive. :P
Yes, I’m anal like that. This blog will be two years old next month after all. So yeah, despite the fact that my uber demanding work has single-handedly ensured that I would never live life as I know it again, it’s not gonna bring this blog down dammit… >:P
My readership nay have dwindled to a point where my only visitors have been pervs on the prowl for Clemence Poesy’s nakedness or just nakedness in general but hey, that might come useful for when I decide to turn this blog into an online sex shop or something. Who knows? I might clinch Lindsay Lohan as a loyal customer. I heard she’s a major vibe connoisseur. O.o
So yeah, aside from having dinner twice in one weekend at the same hawker center with pseudo-celeb, F1 commentator Steve Slater and former racecar driver, Chris Goodwin, there’s really nothing else to write home about. The table convo was about what else? Cars. And although I can relate, there’s not much I can contribute unfortunately so I just launched into a monologue on my love affair with Coke Light instead. I blabbered at length about how I spilled a can full all over my TV set and after a cursory wipe down with a piece of cloth the TV still functioned properly! Yep, no sticky residues whatsoever. It’s miraculous stuff!
Chris feigned interest and asked about whether you can really use Coke to clean a bowl and I said yes and even lick it off after. They all gave me a curious look and I giggled like a drunk school girl hoping someone would fart to divert everyone’s attention. And what do you know? Someone did! But alas, the farting sound was just coming from my sweaty thigh plop plopping on the plastic chair. o.O How fun…
Yes, I’m anal like that. This blog will be two years old next month after all. So yeah, despite the fact that my uber demanding work has single-handedly ensured that I would never live life as I know it again, it’s not gonna bring this blog down dammit… >:P
My readership nay have dwindled to a point where my only visitors have been pervs on the prowl for Clemence Poesy’s nakedness or just nakedness in general but hey, that might come useful for when I decide to turn this blog into an online sex shop or something. Who knows? I might clinch Lindsay Lohan as a loyal customer. I heard she’s a major vibe connoisseur. O.o
So yeah, aside from having dinner twice in one weekend at the same hawker center with pseudo-celeb, F1 commentator Steve Slater and former racecar driver, Chris Goodwin, there’s really nothing else to write home about. The table convo was about what else? Cars. And although I can relate, there’s not much I can contribute unfortunately so I just launched into a monologue on my love affair with Coke Light instead. I blabbered at length about how I spilled a can full all over my TV set and after a cursory wipe down with a piece of cloth the TV still functioned properly! Yep, no sticky residues whatsoever. It’s miraculous stuff!
Chris feigned interest and asked about whether you can really use Coke to clean a bowl and I said yes and even lick it off after. They all gave me a curious look and I giggled like a drunk school girl hoping someone would fart to divert everyone’s attention. And what do you know? Someone did! But alas, the farting sound was just coming from my sweaty thigh plop plopping on the plastic chair. o.O How fun…
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Fuck Me Dead... o.O
Just when you think you’ve seen the worst of them, you’re proven wrong.
MTV, whose name is becoming more and more of a misnomer with every passing day as they continue to flood the channel with more brainless reality shows and features rather than music as it was originally intended, just outdid itself in certifiable idiocy with a show called “My Own (insert name of effing celebrity you want to fuck the brains out of here).”
I’ve had thedispleasure of seeing the episode of a college coed maniacally obsessed with Justin Timberlake and who was looking for her own shabby version. Yep, that’s the basic framework of the program. Some crazy fanatic searches and settles for a wannabe because well, there’s simply no hope in hell to get the real thing. The funniest bit about it is that none of the potential wannabes come even close to a mudpost modeled after the desired celeb. Heck, the six guys who were competing to become the crazy girl’s own Justin for instance all looked every kind of wrong.
But hey, there’s a silver lining to the nimbu-cumulus cloud, the boys were made to make total buffoons of themselves imitating Justin through funny-as-hell signing and dancing lessons especially for the last three standing who had to act out a Justin video complete with props, ridiculous affectations and such.
Now that’s entertainment if I’ve ever seen one. Never mind the ten IQ points or so that I lost in half an hour.
MTV, whose name is becoming more and more of a misnomer with every passing day as they continue to flood the channel with more brainless reality shows and features rather than music as it was originally intended, just outdid itself in certifiable idiocy with a show called “My Own (insert name of effing celebrity you want to fuck the brains out of here).”
I’ve had the
But hey, there’s a silver lining to the nimbu-cumulus cloud, the boys were made to make total buffoons of themselves imitating Justin through funny-as-hell signing and dancing lessons especially for the last three standing who had to act out a Justin video complete with props, ridiculous affectations and such.
Now that’s entertainment if I’ve ever seen one. Never mind the ten IQ points or so that I lost in half an hour.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Borked Bits
Talk about being borked with a capital “B”… o.O
Honeymoon at work is over…not that fumbling around like a zombie grappling with foreign concepts like “blacking tapes’ and “dumping music” (which I still don’t know how to do efficiently btw…) for roughly a couple of weeks can even be remotely considered a honeymoon, but anyway…
Pressure is fast mounting with my life, which I already don’t have enough of, set to take the backseat, or maybe even the trunk…at least in the next couple of months with a live triathlon coverage in the offing and a new motor sports magazine in the works. I’m no stranger to pressure having worked in the TV/film/video industry since time immemorial…er, just 5 years actually but hey, that’s substantial… kinda… O.o Still, there’s no worse feeling than being practically an hour-old duckling thrown in the lake and basically just left to either wimp out or waddle…god, it’s like the first day of school all over again and well it’s effing rattling! It doesn’t matter how confident you are or how experienced you may be, there’s just no escaping the jitters. I usually thrive in competition but I worry that I may be losing my edge…I’m thrashing madly about right now waddling the best way I can and managing to just barely break the surface. Wheee! Fun.
And like as if starting a new job isn’t stressful enough, I just had to have a huge falling out with a really good friend which makes matters just the way uh-huh uh-huh I like it - oh-so-screwed-up! But heck, like that’s a big surprise. As with everything else in my life it seems, I have a knack for totally fucked timing. I’m feeling crappy as hell right now like that time I grabbed a litter of fuzzy kittens by the ruff, and stabbed them to death one by one with a splintery wooden soup ladle and a rusty old spork… x.x
Uh, well no, I’ve never done anything like that at all but I just assume that if I did, this is prolly how I would feel – totally wretched! It’s like someone drove a nail through my heart and set my soul on fire. I would certainly be running to a priest, a rabbi or even just a hobo pretending to be god’s messenger of peace and love if I don’t know for a fact that I don’t have a soul. I donated it to charity, how’s that for irony? You think that maybe I can get a tax exemption for that?
Honeymoon at work is over…not that fumbling around like a zombie grappling with foreign concepts like “blacking tapes’ and “dumping music” (which I still don’t know how to do efficiently btw…) for roughly a couple of weeks can even be remotely considered a honeymoon, but anyway…
Pressure is fast mounting with my life, which I already don’t have enough of, set to take the backseat, or maybe even the trunk…at least in the next couple of months with a live triathlon coverage in the offing and a new motor sports magazine in the works. I’m no stranger to pressure having worked in the TV/film/video industry since time immemorial…er, just 5 years actually but hey, that’s substantial… kinda… O.o Still, there’s no worse feeling than being practically an hour-old duckling thrown in the lake and basically just left to either wimp out or waddle…god, it’s like the first day of school all over again and well it’s effing rattling! It doesn’t matter how confident you are or how experienced you may be, there’s just no escaping the jitters. I usually thrive in competition but I worry that I may be losing my edge…I’m thrashing madly about right now waddling the best way I can and managing to just barely break the surface. Wheee! Fun.
And like as if starting a new job isn’t stressful enough, I just had to have a huge falling out with a really good friend which makes matters just the way uh-huh uh-huh I like it - oh-so-screwed-up! But heck, like that’s a big surprise. As with everything else in my life it seems, I have a knack for totally fucked timing. I’m feeling crappy as hell right now like that time I grabbed a litter of fuzzy kittens by the ruff, and stabbed them to death one by one with a splintery wooden soup ladle and a rusty old spork… x.x
Uh, well no, I’ve never done anything like that at all but I just assume that if I did, this is prolly how I would feel – totally wretched! It’s like someone drove a nail through my heart and set my soul on fire. I would certainly be running to a priest, a rabbi or even just a hobo pretending to be god’s messenger of peace and love if I don’t know for a fact that I don’t have a soul. I donated it to charity, how’s that for irony? You think that maybe I can get a tax exemption for that?
Saturday, June 17, 2006
PWNT! o.O
You'd know that you've lived on this effing island long enough when your standards, specifically with men, just incontrollably freefalls. Indeed, the average member of the male population in this godforsaken isle is hideous beyond words. I'm quite convinced that every single one of them has been genetically modified, with their Y chromosomes changed to M - a perfect ode to Monobloc, that tacky ugly plastic furniture in all their craptastic goodness. Both have about the same vapid personality after all. o.O
So screw good looks, wit, charm, intrigue or maturity. You'd just have to settle for anyone, anyone at all who can speak proper english at least 80 percent of the time. Nevermind if he's only got half a head attached to a part elephant, part fruitfly body. It just has to do.
Should you somehow find yourself falling for someone whose idea of fun is hacking random websites declaring that it's PWNT, it's not your fault. Yes, he basically gets off on those horribly stupid flash presentation shite but hey, you gotta admit that that one called "Miko Miko Nurse" is a hoot in all it's seizure-lixored glory. At least his first flash attempt had been about you, one that says he'd love you forever, stronger with each passing day and yes, it's prolly been lifted from one of 'em standard-issue greeting cards with their effing cliche verses and such swimming in a cesspool of sentimental clap-trap but whatever... Same goes for that song he wrote which says something about making love to you in the pouring rain... o.O Hey, it's geek-style romance and well, surely better than nothing.
You know you're fucked with a capital F though when he turns out to be much younger than you and hey y'all! He still lives with his mother! Whee! Life's great...NOT! >.<
So screw good looks, wit, charm, intrigue or maturity. You'd just have to settle for anyone, anyone at all who can speak proper english at least 80 percent of the time. Nevermind if he's only got half a head attached to a part elephant, part fruitfly body. It just has to do.
Should you somehow find yourself falling for someone whose idea of fun is hacking random websites declaring that it's PWNT, it's not your fault. Yes, he basically gets off on those horribly stupid flash presentation shite but hey, you gotta admit that that one called "Miko Miko Nurse" is a hoot in all it's seizure-lixored glory. At least his first flash attempt had been about you, one that says he'd love you forever, stronger with each passing day and yes, it's prolly been lifted from one of 'em standard-issue greeting cards with their effing cliche verses and such swimming in a cesspool of sentimental clap-trap but whatever... Same goes for that song he wrote which says something about making love to you in the pouring rain... o.O Hey, it's geek-style romance and well, surely better than nothing.
You know you're fucked with a capital F though when he turns out to be much younger than you and hey y'all! He still lives with his mother! Whee! Life's great...NOT! >.<
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Of Fucktards, Asshats and Such...
Meh…the bane of the online journal…once you’ve acquired substantial readership, you can’t help but start fussing about the things you talk about for fear that the subjects in question would find out and make your life even more wretched than it already is. I’ve never really cared of course, at least not enough as to really hamper my blogging until now. Damn tech-savvy stalkers who can simply type in a few carefully selected search strings and easily find out everything about you from the name of the stinky boy in class who tried to kiss you when you were seven to the number of lurkers currently de-lurking on your forehead.
And of course, it doesn’t help that I’m a cam-whore who plasters my silly mug everywhere I could. Well, not exactly, but I do have a pic in my profile that will confirm to certain creepy crawlies that they are in fact, the miserable rat finks I’m referring to. O.o
So yeah, I’d love to rant about the asshat who showed me his ‘nakedness’ (his own words) against my will (yep, I’m scarred for life), the bastard who stopped talking to me the moment he realized I’m not interested in friendship with benefits and the racist fucktard who just sent my entire career careening down the drain, but I can’t so I won’t.
Don’t worry, I’m currently in the process of planning what will be their uh, ‘accidental demise’ but unfortunately, I can’t probably document even that for obvious reasons. o.o
Overheard in a Chatroom:
“You are nothing but a wadded up tissue in the asshairs of society!!!”
Seriously, someone give the guy an award for witty word-smithing. ;)
And of course, it doesn’t help that I’m a cam-whore who plasters my silly mug everywhere I could. Well, not exactly, but I do have a pic in my profile that will confirm to certain creepy crawlies that they are in fact, the miserable rat finks I’m referring to. O.o
So yeah, I’d love to rant about the asshat who showed me his ‘nakedness’ (his own words) against my will (yep, I’m scarred for life), the bastard who stopped talking to me the moment he realized I’m not interested in friendship with benefits and the racist fucktard who just sent my entire career careening down the drain, but I can’t so I won’t.
Don’t worry, I’m currently in the process of planning what will be their uh, ‘accidental demise’ but unfortunately, I can’t probably document even that for obvious reasons. o.o
Overheard in a Chatroom:
“You are nothing but a wadded up tissue in the asshairs of society!!!”
Seriously, someone give the guy an award for witty word-smithing. ;)
Saturday, May 27, 2006
How to Lose 10 lbs in 10 Seconds
Wow. Seriously, how can anyone effing go from dangerously obese to hard body in all of four months? 0.o
Janet Jackson has see-sawed from hippo to hotbod throughout the years and I’ve frankly always suspected that she’s just got some ultra-talented surgeon who simply carves through her rolls and rolls of fat with robotic precision using a couple of bread knives and gets her in shape in like under two minutes just in time for an album launch or whatever.
I mean, I can run like a hamster on a wheel 24/7 for a full year and still register a 10-lb gain at the end of the exercise. My body is just genetically built to gain an ounce at the mere sight of food and it doesn’t even matter if it’s broccoli or frozen peas. Never mind that I try to workout regularly and practically subsist on a diet of water and oxygen most days. What can I say? I’m just too lazy to get anything decent to eat. But when I do get the energy, I can fleece out an entire fast food outlet. But isn’t that the point of working out though?
Should all else fail in the quest to lose the extra luggage though, I can always cut off an arm, ya? Now there’s a plan B if I’ve ever had one.
Janet Jackson has see-sawed from hippo to hotbod throughout the years and I’ve frankly always suspected that she’s just got some ultra-talented surgeon who simply carves through her rolls and rolls of fat with robotic precision using a couple of bread knives and gets her in shape in like under two minutes just in time for an album launch or whatever.
I mean, I can run like a hamster on a wheel 24/7 for a full year and still register a 10-lb gain at the end of the exercise. My body is just genetically built to gain an ounce at the mere sight of food and it doesn’t even matter if it’s broccoli or frozen peas. Never mind that I try to workout regularly and practically subsist on a diet of water and oxygen most days. What can I say? I’m just too lazy to get anything decent to eat. But when I do get the energy, I can fleece out an entire fast food outlet. But isn’t that the point of working out though?
Should all else fail in the quest to lose the extra luggage though, I can always cut off an arm, ya? Now there’s a plan B if I’ve ever had one.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
XXX
If you’re one of many who come here to look for nude photos of Kataharine McPhee, shoo, shoo, you won’t find ‘em here. But if you’re not picky or just otherwise pervy, then this should prolly be good enough for you…
Wheee! Look at me! I’m naked!
Yes, yes I’m just soooo goddamn awesome, I know…e-mail me for the address where you can have the flowers delivered. It wouldn’t hurt to add a check, too.
So yeah, life pretty much still sucks stale bananas but on the plus side, I finally got my hair to turn purple. Well actually, make that purplish to be exact but hey, I’m not complaining…it’s about the biggest accomplishment I’ve made in the last couple of weeks so, yay me.
Yes, yes I’m just soooo goddamn awesome, I know…e-mail me for the address where you can have the flowers delivered. It wouldn’t hurt to add a check, too.
So yeah, life pretty much still sucks stale bananas but on the plus side, I finally got my hair to turn purple. Well actually, make that purplish to be exact but hey, I’m not complaining…it’s about the biggest accomplishment I’ve made in the last couple of weeks so, yay me.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Bump in the Night
A striped grey and black cat jumped onto my bed rudely interrupting my pleasant romp in la la land. I nudged it lightly with my left foot to one side and buried my face into my pillow trying to salvage any vestiges of sleep. But then, a searing pain stirred me up a second time and I saw the feline nibbling fiercely on my toes. I was about to kick it to oblivion when suddenly the cat turned into some kind of komodo dragon/alligator hybrid. The monstrous creature then opened its mouth wide and looked like it would swallow me whole but before it could, I snapped into consciousness this time for real.
I haven’t remembered any of my dreams in what seems like years, and the first time I did it runs like a low-budget horror movie? Gosh. What does this say about my subconscious really? The cat didn’t even look like a real cat but some stuffed animal, possibly a giraffe, doctored to resemble one. The monster itself looked like something straight out of Monsturd as well not that I would know for sure since I never even knew that such a movie existed but anyway…
My subconscious could have at least supplied some awesome special effects such as believable blood and gore for instance. I mean, I think I saw ketchup oozing from my severed toes and well, that’s just scuzzy. And the whole scene could have happened somewhere else other than my bedroom, you know? The only thing even remotely interesting about my bedroom is the dust bunny accumulating under the bed in the shape of Abe Lincoln…Seriously, I’d really rather not remember my dreams next time if it’s going to be this goddamn crappy.
I haven’t remembered any of my dreams in what seems like years, and the first time I did it runs like a low-budget horror movie? Gosh. What does this say about my subconscious really? The cat didn’t even look like a real cat but some stuffed animal, possibly a giraffe, doctored to resemble one. The monster itself looked like something straight out of Monsturd as well not that I would know for sure since I never even knew that such a movie existed but anyway…
My subconscious could have at least supplied some awesome special effects such as believable blood and gore for instance. I mean, I think I saw ketchup oozing from my severed toes and well, that’s just scuzzy. And the whole scene could have happened somewhere else other than my bedroom, you know? The only thing even remotely interesting about my bedroom is the dust bunny accumulating under the bed in the shape of Abe Lincoln…Seriously, I’d really rather not remember my dreams next time if it’s going to be this goddamn crappy.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Mug-nanimous!
I was doing an image search on River Phoenix and this baby turned up. And I didn’t even type in the word ‘dead’ in my search string.
click pretty River to see puke-worthy River…but only if you have the stomach for it…consider yourself forewarned
How effing sick is that?
Sure, having mugs of celebrities on er, mugs is not a new concept but dead mugs of dead celebrities on your coffee mug? Brutal. Still, I’d say someone give Shovelware an award for the most original retail idea. I don’t imagine them fielding orders by the hundreds or even just the tens on any given day but it takes a totally fucked up mind to hatch an idea that sick. I only wish there’s a Kurt Cobain and Michael Hutchence one, too. I’d buy 6 of each and then throw a nice tea/coffee party. Lovely. Just lovely.
How effing sick is that?
Sure, having mugs of celebrities on er, mugs is not a new concept but dead mugs of dead celebrities on your coffee mug? Brutal. Still, I’d say someone give Shovelware an award for the most original retail idea. I don’t imagine them fielding orders by the hundreds or even just the tens on any given day but it takes a totally fucked up mind to hatch an idea that sick. I only wish there’s a Kurt Cobain and Michael Hutchence one, too. I’d buy 6 of each and then throw a nice tea/coffee party. Lovely. Just lovely.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Frank Was Clearly on to Something...
First, the birth of the Anti-Christ and now, Kimi coming in 5th at Imola. What the fuck is wrong with the world??? Is the end really upon us?
I rushed home to catch the last third of yesterday’s F1 race in Italy to find effing Schumi leading the pack with friggin’ Alonso close behind. Having absolutely no sleep, and by NO I mean not even a wink, working my ass off since Friday night, it wasn’t exactly the reward I was looking for. Hell, I was tired, and after working with a pervy asswipe all weekend a victory would have been great, Kimi…geez Apparently, he had a poor start and everything just tumbled from there. To make things worse effing JPM finished ahead of him, too….aaaargh!!!
It’s a good thing I’m still too knackered to care too much or the end would be coming too little too soon for sure.
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I rushed home to catch the last third of yesterday’s F1 race in Italy to find effing Schumi leading the pack with friggin’ Alonso close behind. Having absolutely no sleep, and by NO I mean not even a wink, working my ass off since Friday night, it wasn’t exactly the reward I was looking for. Hell, I was tired, and after working with a pervy asswipe all weekend a victory would have been great, Kimi…geez Apparently, he had a poor start and everything just tumbled from there. To make things worse effing JPM finished ahead of him, too….aaaargh!!!
It’s a good thing I’m still too knackered to care too much or the end would be coming too little too soon for sure.
