Saturday 16 May 2015

Depp-ported Dogs & Facebook F**kery

Like the Grand High Executioner, I occasionally compile a little list.  I've done that now, and for your amusement, present such list hereunder:

1. What I Am Seriously Pissed Off With: Johnny Depp and his bloody dogs.  Well, not the dogs personally.  It is not their fault their owner was either too arrogant, too ignorant, or too stupid to complete the paperwork required for all incoming parties to Australia, which has a space for one to declare certain items, those items including live animals.  It doesn't matter if you arrive by a commercial aircraft or a private aircraft, this paperwork must be completed and declarations are to be declared.  And if Johnny was not familiar with the rules, then why did the pilots not know something about it?  Smuggling your mutts in via a designer handbag just doesn't cut it.  I do not like to criticise Johnny Depp.  It hurts me.  I think he is a fantastic actor and I fancy the man shitless; indeed, I reckon Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow is so fucken sexy.  However, as Agriculture Minister Barnaby Joyce pointed out, being voted Sexiest Man twice means nothing when it comes to our strict quarantine laws.  Remember that ad with Steve Irwin, in which he exuberantly gushed, 'Quarantine matters!'?  I suppose Irwin exuberantly gushing was commonplace; he probably exuberantly gushed when ordering a pizza over the phone.  But yeah, by violating our strict laws, Depp ran the risk of introducing pests and parasites to our unique ecosystem, and potentially devastating farmers, too.  We don't know whether Pistol and Boo had tapeworms hanging from the arseholes like tired paper streamers hanging from the ceiling at the end of the dance, do we?  And not only that, he ran the risk of his dogs actually being put down.  Johnny, you have to work hard to atone for this, so my crush can be restored.  If you wish to come over and discuss it, please feel free.  I don't mind if you dress as Captain Jack Sparrow, either.

2.  What I Am Also Seriously Pissed Off With: everybody trying to brush this off with a grain of salt.  I saw footage of actor Christian Slater dismissively saying, 'They're dogs!'  Well, so fucking what?  Get a clue!  To find such clue, read Point 1 above.  I saw a petition trending for the reprieve of the dogs.  If you're a regular reader of this blog, you will know I truly detest those freaking petitions from Change. dot. freaking.org.  These petitions, and tweets from various people who have no clue, beseech the Australian Government to not put down the dogs.  Well, how about someone wishing to bring animals into the country does the right thing in the first place?  They dogs should have been placed in quarantine, or Johnny should have organised someone to housesit for him and feed the things.  In any event, I understand the beasts have been placed on a plane and returned to the US.  Let me state for the record, I am an animal lover.  My favourite type of animal is a dog.  I am not trying to put a death wish on Depp's Yorkies.  Indeed, one of my pets is a rescue dog that faced what B-grade writers call 'certain death' at the pound.  But people, we have these quarantine laws for a reason, okay?

3.  Weird Thing That Happened To Me On Facebook #1: someone wished violence on me.  I was commenting on a thread for some women's site, and the thread was about the verdict of manslaughter, as opposed to murder, to a man who had shot his partner.  There had been a history of violence in their relationship.  The article said that despite a certain number of women dying at the hands of their partners this year, a verdict was found blah-blah.  I pointed out, not unreasonably, that the sad deaths of these other women had no bearing on the court case of this individual.  Commenters complained about the judges, and were in turn informed the verdict was delivered by a jury, not a judge.  Commenters said it should have been a woman judge.  I pointed out, again not unreasonably, that a judge's gender has fuck-all to do with the case over which he or she presides, and should remain thus.  People complained the jury's verdict was bullshit.  I pointed out they people complaining were not on the jury panel and therefore not privy to the evidence and judge's directions.  Well, didn't that just chuck the feline among the statue-defiling avian creatures! I was told I was a stupid (for the record, I'm actually not), and told to fuck off (for the record, my vibrator... no, I won't go there).  I pointed out the immaturity of calling people names and swearing at them when they bring a logical point to the thread, which was admittedly a highly emotive topic.  And then, someone told me I'm a cyber-pest and to enjoy getting bashed.  So, I flexed my fingers and brain, and typed a response to the effect that she might consider me a cyber-pest, but to wish violence on me made her a cyber-thug, and were I as base as she clearly was, I'd call her a silly cunt.  I substituted the 'u' and the 'n' in the word 'cunt' with asterisks because I'm cultured and civilised (yes I am, so you can stop rolling your eyes).  I've had people disagree with me, but I've never had someone wish violence on me.  This is a first.  I sought out the comments later because I was curious to see if my that loveable old Santa Claus of a woman had wished further dire fates on me, but the comments had been removed.  This was probably a good idea.  My husband pointed out calling her a cunt was a low act, which it is, but her wishing I get bashed is probably just a tad worse.  This is the first time I have ever called someone a cunt on Facebook.  It's not a word I tend to use very much.

4.  Weird Thing That Happened To Me On Facebook #2: it happened last night, and I'm not sure if there's a name for it. I got a chat message from a friend.  The friend and I haven't met in person yet, but we're both writers.  I've been looking forward to chatting with my new friend, but the first message was to inform me he had an erection.  Well, that's nice to know.  I guess.  He told the erection was inspired by a photograph he'd seen of me, and pointed out which one.  This made me just a little suspicious (not because I'm a dog, but because I didn't think my friend would say something like that).  Also, the messages were coming through in SMS shorthand, and this guy with whom I'm friends has quite a command of our language, and would likely find this butchery offensive.  Oh, I'm not trying to read his mind or do a profile on him, but he seems to have a similar love of language that I do, and I feel he would therefore be unlikely to use shorthand.  Also, when one can type quickly, those shortcuts become moot.  I informed the person with whom I was chatting I was uncertain if he was my friend or a hacker, and I was not prepared to engage in silly ribald discussion (and trust me, I can think of some beaut lines) because how could I know he would not snap shot the screen and distribute it publicly?  And then, oh then, I had trouble sending a message, and then received a message from the real 'friend' advising he had left his phone at a party, and someone had picked it up and was messaging his Facebook friends with bogus silly messages.  Anyway, should I be flattered that someone thought a photograph of me taken at my high school reunion was highly arousing?

5. What I Must Do Now: serve dinner.  I have prepared a delish minestrone.  Mr Bingells has returned from a tiring day working privately as a bus driver for race goers at the nearby Scone Cup today.  He also worked yesterday.  I don't envy him.  I don't wish I was there because I don't like horse racing all that much, anyway.  I worked at Scone Cup years ago - serving food.  I went to take a coffee cup from one well known society matron - who was one facelift away from having a beard, if you get my drift! - and got my head bitten off because she reckoned it wasn't finished.  Hey, if she wanted to drink cold, cloudy dregs then she had more dollars than sense.

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