Whingers and Whiners

 Genuine question to the Libs in Victoria: do you have a workable solution to offer in staunching the spread of Covid, or do you just want to engage in political mud slinging at the Premier? Do you guys conduct Zoom meetings (presuming you have the common sense to not congregate in a lair) coming up with asinine insults to put out on social media? Who's telling you to do this? Why are you doing this? And you people listening to the Libs in Victoria: why are you doing this? 

What's got me ranting about this is the small ad Magda Szubanski appeared in, as her mad netballer character Sharon Strezlecki (spelling?), wherein she gives a brief spiel about hanging in there, and that the virus is the enemy, not lockdown. Important message, I would have thought. But this wasn't good enough for Liberal Member for Brighton, James Newbury, who thought it would be a great idea to post a tweet saying that Victorians have turned on the loved Sharon character because Magda read a 'condescending' script written by Premier Dan Andrews. First up: no he didn't; Magda wrote it and told you so herself. Second of all: is this the hill you're going to die on? You might want to get some tweezers to pull out the splinters you've sustained from scraping the bottom of the barrel. And in the midst of all the petty sniping, did you offer a solution? *Listens to the crickets*

Some of the assclowns on the Twitter thread complained Magda had been paid for the ad. Um, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, so fucking what? She's a professional actor who did a job. Why should she not be paid? She apparently donated her fee to a charity, but that wasn't good enough for the professional whingers, as well as some of the top-ranked amateurs. They demanded she name the charity. To the whingers: Magda is under no obligation to name a charity she patrons to anybody, and she is under no obligation to divulge details of how she disbursed lawful income. How about someone asks you how YOU spent your last pay? Offensive, right? Then take your moaning and shove it up your butts. 

I'm aching like crazy at the moment. Today, I tackled my garden and am now wondering was it worth the ache in my knees which I currently suffer. To reward myself for my labour, I reclined on the lounge and watched Puberty Blues. My mini fox terrier lay on my knees, which provided relief, and I put a rug over us, and watched the trials and tribulations of the fictional teenagers in late-Seventies Cronulla. I still recall buying a copy of the book when I was fifteen, and it went around the school, and was returned to me in tatters. I still have that copy, and it's held together with a suitably sized bulldog clip. I have a memory of one of my male friends attempting to corrupt the impressionable Year Sevens as he read to them the infamous panel van scene. 

But the question for now is: do I continue to work on my assessment, or will I watch some more Puberty Blues? I don't much feel like thinking. I want some more cool dialogue like: 'Redskins are unreal!'

Bye for now.