It’s exam season at University but that ain’t even the biggest cause of stress for you. The loo roll has ran out again, you’ve bought the last four lots and its starting to piss you right off. You’re always the one trudging to the newsagents down the road, to buy more, where the owner has crusty fingers and the woman on the till doesn’t even speak. She just nods at the coins in your hand and expects you to work the price out yourself whilst she stares at the TV, catching up on old episodes of Jezza, a tear still left in her eye after hearing the news ITV had binned it off.
Stress, fury, anger. Both you and the women. Her at a TV, you at your housemates, leaving it to you to get yet another fucking batch of loo roll. You need to let this anger out, let all the angst and pent up energy out at something or someone. You tell yourself, Don’t Wait Till Tomorrow, I need the loo roll now. You suck it up and buy it, but you’re pissed.
Later in the evening, you pop your headphones in, ramp it up to full volume and unleash Yonaka’s new album, letting that energy out with several jumps and a few almighty stomps, letting everyone know who’s boss, letting everyone know that the next time the loo roll runs out, they better fuckin’ buy some, or else they’ll be bulldozed down in a punk-ridden, riotous rage.
