Apropos of the last post I published, the presenters on Weekend Sunrise issued an apology on Saturday morning, and interviewed some people who appear to have a modicum of knowledge in the IVF industry. As far as I am aware, there has been no apology forthcoming from the flippantly cavalier Ron Wilson and Melissa Hoyer. If either of you are reading this, is it your intention to apologise to all those you hurt with your pissy, sarcastic, and utterly ignorant comments? Of course, if you're not sorry, then don't apologise. A fake and forced apology is about as effective as wiping the arse of a diarrhetic elephant with a speck of confetti, and frankly about as welcome a notion. If you guys never sat on the toilet, then burst into tears when you saw the ominous smear of blood on the toilet paper or in the crotch of your underpants, then you have no idea what you're on about (and yes, I have sat on the toilet crying upon the realisation another month was passing and still no baby on the way). My oldest is now seventeen, so our struggle was a while ago, but I will never forget how it felt. As far as I'm concerned, you can still go fuck yourselves.
Anyway, I passed a comment on the Sunrise Facebook post regarding their apology, and suggested Wilson and Hoyer offer an apology, too. Well, colour me flabbergasted and knock me off the bridge with the rest of the Billy Goats Gruff if I didn't get me a troll all of my very own in the process! (It followed me home, Ma. Can I keep it?). Check this out:
Whoever you are, hiding as you are behind your fake profile, I'm sure your comments are just as effective and more accessible to you than Viagra. Your father should have masturbated you into a wad of Kleenex.
Another thing that has people's ire up of late is the picture of two women, who happen play on opposing teams representing the Women's State of Origin, sharing a kiss afterward. They're partners in real life, you see. Here's the picture for you all:
Critics say a photograph like this might deter young girls from taking up the sport. To this I say a resounding and loud pffffffft! I would hope kids are better educated these days to know they are allowed to kiss their partner in celebration after an emotional time, whether that partner be of same sex or opposite sex. I bet most of the people groaning and carrying on about this photo would have no issue if the participants were dressed in lingerie and swinging pillows at each other.
Finally, what's got me shaking my head today is a story I read about a woman who has apparently accidentally caused the death of her partner in a stunt gone wrong. She did not want to partake in the stunt, but being of the social media generation, they wanted to share a bodacious vid on You Tube. She was to shoot fire a bullet, point blank range, into an encyclopaedia the guy was holding to his chest. You see, the big fat information book was to absorb the bullet. It didn't work. Okay, I'm not a ballistics expert, but I do have the sense to know the propulsion of a bullet fired at that close range is not going to be stopped by ANY encyclopaedia, even the fat A-E section. The faster something moves, the more momentum it has. Bullets are pretty bloody fast things. Even a blank fired at close range has the potential to kill. Kids, please do not try this at home. Or anywhere else for that matter. Strewth, the article I read even referred to the guy as having said if the trick didn't work, he was ready for Jesus knowing his girlfriend loved him, or some such guff. The girlfriend is a pregnant twenty-year-old. I cannot fathom her heartbreak and fear, and a part of me cannot fathom the stupidity of people chasing their fifteen minutes of fame via social media, doing something seriously moronic.
Oh well, I'm off to review more of the edited manuscript to Howling on A Concrete Moon, coming soon to a good bookstore near you. Hell, maybe even a crap bookstore. Just help me remain solvent and buy it. Pretty please.
No comments:
Post a Comment