Play it again, Sam...

I'm not naturally an angry person.

I'm not the type to aggravate myself or others over frequently menial things. It's just that these things seem to happen to me. Apparently I irritated the big guy upstairs at some point, and hence I have been shoved into a repetitive scenario for someone's entertainment, not unlike the Truman Show, with the difference being that my scenarios often end rather badly.

Let me explain. I'm a university student studying music in Brisbane, Australia. I live the standard university life that is a general lack of money but at the same time an equally general lack of need for money. I have a generously large amount of free time (or else I wouldn't be typing this) and what most would call a good life.

"So why?" I hear you ask, "What right have you to complain whilst we work 45 hour weeks while our 3 year-olds soil themselves on our new carpets?"

Well, quite frankly, I don't. But apparently, my ramblings and rantings can, at best, be entertaining in a pedantic, melodramatic way. Also, I need somewhere to bitch about the frequent going-ons of my aforementioned evilly driven life. But those stories are for another night. I need the fragile reassurance of at least one desperately bored reader first.

Yours audaciously

Angry Music Man

P.S. I'm aware that this had nothing to do with Angry Music. The name just seemed appropriate for the two defining factors of my life. You got a problem with it, go suck a turnip.