I am quite angry today. After losing hair and money, now being made to come to the PDC. I might open my own barbers. Slit the little bleeders for all the wrong they did unto thy.
There is nothing better than putting on some heavy metal or soft rock when one is feeling narked. Sitting there on the floor, marking notches in the carpet or perhaps your wrist, as every second of injustice in your life, eats away at your emotions. The ticking of the timebomb, and then you wish to shout out to everyone you know, "STOP PRESSURING ME> I JUST WANT TO SCREAM TO MAKE THE MADDNESS STOP". Kind of symbolic to every Londoner's inner desire.