Wednesday, 7 March 2018

FML Moments & Vale Jeff St John

I just had a look at my last posting, and colour me flabbergasted, it's been almost a week since I last posted!  This is unheard of for someone who is a prolific blogger. Have lots of things been happening that have caused me to keep away from the computer?  I will admit I've been pretty busy with work, and the usual vicissitudes of life that are part and parcel of being a parent.

I'm trying to think what's been happening since I last posted that's of interest.  Well, I did get called a Lefty Greenie Cunt on social media, and was informed that I am the type who makes people like my insulter sick.  Whilst not one of those stirrers whose day is not complete until he/she has been insulted by being compared to the genital organs that help define my gender, it did give me something of a chuckle.  Just for the yucks, I've had another look at the comment, and he's edited it somewhat.  Here 'tis:

"Simone Bailey shut up you bleeding heart lefty.

He caused the death of an innocent young person, AND then left the scene. He is a grub who should be in jail, not roaming the streets.


And of course you are a trainee lawyer! It’s Morons like you that would love to see every criminal roaming the streets. People like you are the reason law and order is out of control especially in Victoria. People like you make me sick in the stomach."



As you can tell, he's removed the C-word, along with any assumption of alliance with The Greens (which for the record I am not).  Here's my reply, unexpurgated save for the blanking out of the poor lamb's name:


"I'm not feeling the love. Is something wrong? There must be, otherwise why would you erupt like a toxic volcano, and spew forth such vitriolic venom? I pointed out some of the machinations of the legal system. I had hoped it would explain why the judiciary arrive at the decisions they do. They have to work in accordance with the law as it is written, and how it pertains to the individual case before them. This country operates by rule of law. Laws are devised by parliament. We follow rule of law, not blathering bullshit of populist political ex-shock jocks. Incidentally, your leader also had his time as a defendant and didn't cop to severe a sentence.

Whether or not everyone disagrees with me is of little consequence, but it's annoying that they won't listen to reason. However, I will state my opinion - which unlike yours is actually informed - in a respectful manner. You, on the other hand, responded with vicious name calling. This actually says more about you than it does me. Perhaps abusing someone from behind your keyboard has the same effect as Viagra, and saves you the trip to the chemist. I don't know if you are employed, but you might want to hope your employer doesn't see what you wrote.

So I make you sick to the stomach? Have some Eno and lie down still you feel better, you poor petal."

It is a bit sad when the highlight of  your week is asinine online abuse, isn't it?  I guess this might be the highlight because the rest of the week has been stuffed to the max with lowlights.   Anything that could go awry has done so, particularly last Tuesday.   I was rostered to carry out a social support service for an elderly lady in a neighbouring town.  We decided we would go for a coffee.  We entered a rather pleasant looking establishment, and to my abject horror I spotted one of my former high school teachers.  Normally I would not be bothered to see a relic from my past, but not this time.  This is a teacher whom I would swim across a torrential river of shit to avoid.  I had to keep looking out the window, hoping the hag wouldn't see my face.  One can only feign so much interest in what is happening in the street outside when one is having coffee.

The lady told me she needed to go to the supermarket.  We returned to the car and drove to the supermarket.  Jesus Christ jumping up and down on a pogo stick fitted with an outboard motor and fluffy dice flying in the breeze, that damned teacher was there, too!  This time I had to feign interest in the specials bin near the checkout.  All I could think was: Fuck my life, and please don't let the hag see me!

It seemed the gods were smiling, because I got away without her noticing me.  The gods were not smiling.  They were smirking.  They were playing some fucked up game of cat-and-mouse.  After the service had been completed, and whilst I was driving home - and I will take the opportunity to point out this particular road is a veritable pretzel dish of narrow driving space, hairpin bends, and twists - the vehicle in which I was travelling blew a tyre!  I pulled over, and thankfully a good Samaritan was travelling behind me, and rendered assistance.  I was very, very grateful.  I hate coming across as a damsel in distress, and told my rescuer as much, but emphasised my gratitude.  The rescuer, a knockabout bloke approximately my age, said, 'No worries!  I changed me first tyre at seven!'  I informed him I wrote my first book at seven (to date unpublished, but I don't know if anyone cares about my late father's horse on a rescue mission), but that was doing me no good right there and then!

So I eventually got home, without succumbing to the tears that had threatened that afternoon.  I assured myself it could get no worse.  It did.  I checked my Facebook page to learn Jeff St John, Aussie rock legend, passed away.  I have seen nothing in the news about this.  Why not?  Not only did he have a magnificent singing voice, which he used to great effect in hits such as Teach Me How To Fly and Big Time Operator, he was a great ambassador for people with disability.  He would do some rockin' wheelies in that wheelchair of his when performing.  Check this link to him speaking at the Northcott School for the Disabled in the Eighties, particularly when he starts to sing and the kids get up and dance.  It's a throat- lumper for sure: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hb-PaRwieh0

Anyway, I'm going to get some groceries and start the fourth and hopefully final edit of the manuscript for my upcoming novel Howling on A Concrete Moon.  It's different to my other books, both in style and tone.  Watch this space for the release date, and knock yourselves out buying or downloading copies.  Please.  My kids won't stop eating.

Vale, Jeff St John.  You don't need that wheelchair now, not that it ever held you back in the first place.
 

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