Fairplay but who can I rely on then?

Might I suggest "A Grand Don't Come For Free" as the soundtrack to your next errand-running excursion? It's forty-five minutes of first-person drama, and I have found that it dovetails quite neatly with the petty bullshit of life (seeing as the content of the album consists of pretty much just that). As you leave the house, the dreary yet triumphant thumps of It Was Supposed To Be So Easy lend quite the swagger to your hips -- the only problem I have found with this brilliant 3.5 minutes is the timing at the beginning is a little too slow for one full step in between -- you kind of half to stutter as youn walk. It's good though -- just imagine you're wearing massive white sneakers and a tracksuit.

So you're off, striding purposefully towards the bus, absolutely bloody well sure that you will, unlike Mikee, accomplish everything you set out to do -- even dropping the DVDs off into the mailbox at the appropriate lyric. You gaze soulfully at the handsome youngish/oldish hipster on the bus during Could Well Be In, imagining him buying you a pint, and you play with your hair. He doesn't notice, of course, but it doesn't matter because by then you're off listening to Not Addicted and fantasizing about footy -- can you believe Everton is now above Man Utd on the table? What is the world coming to? Is it a new curse -- Curse of the Rooney?

Then you're off the bus and Blinded by the Lights and half-walking half-dancing, you pick up your last paycheck, you deposit it, the world is beautiful and you Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way, and you fight your way through the CVS line to buy rat poison -- Get Out of My House, rodents! and feminine products. On the walk through Dupont Circle you notice the hotties of all sorts sunning themselves (Fit But You Know It -- so effing true, there oughta be a law!) -- and the dude cuts you off at the crosswalk -- Such A Tw*t.

The walk to the bus stop -- What is He Thinking turns you cynical -- reimagining old hurts and new faults. You see a happy couple on the bus and you wonder how long it will last. One of them at least will need to Dry their Eyes before long. Ha. And then you're off the bus, on your way home, that charging challenge of Empty Cans -- If I want to sit in and drink Super Tennants in the day I Will, no one's gonna fucking tell me jack -- oooh, even just typing it makes me feel mean and powerful and all kinds of pisssed off.

But it switches at the end, it does, that masterful sleight of hand, and so you unlock your door and you bound up your steps with a smile and your housemate is there at the top with something warm and sweet-smelling, and the second season of The Office just came in the mail, and as the rain starts pounding the roof in, you get to sit and drink hot chocolate and laugh, and this is start of what was.