o'course i knew it was..

As previously prescribed by Dr Diva, the best treatment for wageslave frustration really is a dose of good ol' punk rock. Saturday's excursion to the Arthouse was just what i needed, waving hands about like an idiot to Mach Pelican (thanks to the burly Killing Joke fans of the other week reminding me that it doesn't require corny evil-eye hand gestures) and even having a half-arsed slam to H-Block for the first time in god knows how many years (i'd forgotten just how relaxing it is to be buffeted about by sweaty drunken bodies).

i definitely think i could do with forgetting to act my age a bit more often.