Aside. Ricky, who is still in Australian Idol, did not play an instrument on "play an instrument" night and has now not sung a song of his own on "sing your own song" night. Same goes for Jessica. Bunch of arse. And her vibratto gets right on my tits. The world does not even need one Mariah Carey. Bobby Flynn should be spewing. But hey, these phone in things are a popularity and not a talent contest, so ho-hum.

On the way home I popped into TS Bookshop in Randwick. I love secondhand book shops. They have a fantastic small and encourage me to look non-specifically for, well, anything. Today I got The End of the Line, a low on laughs book about overfishing and the other is Cockroach. About cockroaches. Had a word about another book that is on my list, Let My People Go Surfing, but alas.
I get grief for not cooking so I went to Terry Wright's Gourmet Meats to get some chicken breasts, for I was going to cook dinner. And what a dinner it was! Well, it was OK. Chicken and mushroom in a garlic cream sauce with cheesy potato topping and some veg. Tasty shit, if a bit heart-attack on a plate, but plates cleaned all round and - don't tell anyone - I enjoyed making it. Back to Terry for a while - support your local, independent traders. The shopping experience is so much better than in supermarkets. You can have a yarn with the guys and girls. Human interactrion, try it, it's great.
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