I AM A FAG XXVIII

Contary to popular belief, there are a number of things one can learn from a formidable extended errrm.. vacation.. in Lismore.

I)Denim on denim is making a comeback. in a big way
II)Nothing screams class like a combination of low-rider jeans and leapard print.
III) You have not reached Nirvana unless your car is not only big, black and Holden, but noisy, explicitely bumper-stickered, and plates personalised with 'topdog'. Bonus points for Kid Rock blasting from the stereo, a dirty blonde bimbo residing in the passanger seat, and a pair of white sunnies that could scare the chastity belt off the most loyal virginal maiden.

One can only smirk and blush at the various creatures born of this swampy town. Where did they come from? More importantly, where are they going? (no-where..)
It's as if the town possesses a sub-human force, barrackading in the masses and masses of scum that never venture beyond the town limits (well maybe only to go the the Wyrallah Rd Dump to scrounge for xmas treats..) and holiday far away from their south lismore home in the classy hell-resort of Lismore Caravan park. "ga on ya little ankle-biters, off to tha lake pool... nah nah dont wanna hear nuffin bout the blue-green algae..it's good for ya, will put hairs on ya chest son..."

Gut and facial hair is the lismore standard for appearance, male or woman. Not only is Lismore the lowest socio-economic town in NSW, but it also would have the highest number of likely contestants for Extreme makeover, Backyard Blitz, Room for Improvement, or any surgical or landscape-like reality show that aims to overhaul and improve.

A solution to this mediocrity? Well let's just say if I were mayor (and how i would wear that title with such honour...) i would fund construction for a fence encircling the entire town (electrified and unpassable of course) , throw in a few good tonnes of beef-mince, a kilolitre of Coke, an assortment of metal vats, hops malt and barley, a Flo Ryder (sp?) CD and mix it all up. Advertise excessively, and suddenly this enclosure of filth becomes one of the greatest tourist hotspots in the country- Live feral bogan freak show, doing what they do best- Drinking eating belching and reproducing relentlessly without any consideration for the gene pool or the state of generation Z.

Now it pains me to reduce all the population of lismore down to this disgraceful sub-average stereotype, but those who arent bogans are old and senile, occupying our roads exessively and driving too fast and too slowly respectively. It takes a cruise through town and surrounding suburbs to genuinly realise how fucked up this place is.

It's as if there is no escape- Here at mum's i am drenched in the ho-hum whinge bitch nag nag nag of the elderly (well, over 55's). Escaping leads me to the dredges of lismore lacklustre looney lame losers. My only escape is in the smokey sanctity of Colin, windows up thanks and triple J blaring, or dragging the stupid family dog up and down the ridges mounds and hills of our farm (thank fuck we have a fair bit of property).

Speaking of smokey sanctity, i must admit my regression to rollies. With a wallet loaded with membership cards, overlimit credit cards and not much else, i realised that i would need to revert to rollies if i wished to have some shmokes for at least 4 days. Else i would be back to the greatly-feared nicotineless beast i have been known to become from time to time. And so (on a fearful dash from my car to the servo. And cant believe i wasnt raped or mugged in the long painful 7 seconds i was outside and vulnerable) i purchased White Ox tabacco. "Dark" tabacco FYI. reow.

Now nothing entices me as much as reference to a large wirey animal and the adjectives "fine" and "rich".. And as much as i'd like to say i regret my decision to take a step back into poorsville, i insist that well, i'm in lismore, i may as well fit in with all the smelly fuckers eh?

Let's take it from the top.

Attractiveness of Pack- Actually quit sexy, a rustic lofty fat and eager bulky bag rather than a slinky pack, these appear as a REAL man's tabacco, rather than the slightly prissy, overly feminine Drum packs. Now last time i checked i was a woman (oh and oh so woman oh so soon..) therefore what obviously attracts me to the masculinity of White Ox is their suggestive grunty nature and their big black and sturdy frame. reow. 4 out of 5 malignant tummmmmours.

Smoothness and Flavour- Their contents is nothing soft either. Dark, strongly aromatic, rich and tastyyyyyyy. If only i could transfer the qualities of this tabacco into a human male, i would then have found not only my Mr Right, but my Mr RIGHT NOW AAOOOOOO!!! .. 4.5 out of 5 sexy malignant throbbbbbing tumours. ;)

Burning Time- The dense dark threads of tabacco lend themselves to a slow combustion, long burning time and very steady smoulder. Just as it should be, they only burn when i drag. However, i've found that White Ox is more vulnerable to extinguishing after an oh-little-too-long-time without a drag.. and relighting is required. balls. All in all though they push 4 out of 5 of my buttons.

Lingering Taste- Really overwhelmingly rich aroma and flavour clings determinedly to the roof of my mouth and in various dank locations in my respiratory tract. But after a while of hanging around, this white ox begins to fester and ferment, and the flavour becomes a little unpleasant. hm... 3 out of fiiiiiiiiiive.

Average Score for White Ox- 4? Well, strap me down, they weren't all that bad. HOWEVER i expect 6 out of 5 before marriage babies mortgage and divorce ensues.

SO where were you on the last day of the decade? this will be the overused catch call of many a b-grade news readers for the coming days. Talk of new years' resolutions, new decade, impending 2012 apocalypse, improving financial state of the world will smash our senses. Have you sorted out your prorities? Have you planned day for day your every action word and thought for 2010? I'd hope not. I, surprisingly, have adopted a so-close-to-positive-optimistic-approach that i feel a little foreign. I say welcome benvenuto 2010. May you fuck me from every angle in the most pleasurable way, satisfy my cravings, and rub my back when i'm falling asleep.

See you next decade, you delicious bastards.

X.M.