So as you already know, I have no control or say in where I end up when surfing (we still call it surfing?) the net. What I mistake for checking my emails turns into a full blown investigation to work out what Bec Hewitt's uterus is doing. Sometimes I just want to pop by Perez and I end up researching a diet based on corn. I don't know why, I do know I'm happily withering away in the process. My overall point for this rant is to lead into the following picture. Somehow I ended up voting for the ARIA awards. Let it be known I would rather vote in a 'which tampon are you' contest than go to the ARIA homepage. But to contradict myself; I'll try anything once, twice, daily, hourly... repeat until fade.
And what a selection Australia has turned out. If these chart toppers don't make me a proud Australian then I guess it's time to immigrate. Aka charter the boat, get me out. I can honestly nit-pick this bullshit, starting from Brain McFadden (ISNT HE IRISH?!) to the kick-in-the-nuts that is a DOUBLE serving of Guy Sebastian AND the clown without the makeup - Vanessa Amorosi. I ended up voting for the We Speak No Americano, primarily because it's the only one that tickled my cold heart, and secondly because it hints at America - AKA the home of Gaga, Beyonce, Madonna and that heavenly lot of ladies. God bless America... anything to save me from an oversized handful of Australian Idol infestations and that filthy folk Miller-Heidke fuckwit.
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