I opened my browsers this morning to see that a pair of small minded asshats had publicly declared to all and sundry that if the government went ahead and allowed those homosexuals to get married, then they would just go right ahead and get themselves divorced. They declared it like that, and I can’t be sure, but they probably pronounced homosexual as Homma-sex-suals.
I shook my head and I had a slight look of disgusted distain on my face and I thought, Wow, who fucking cares if you get divorced?
I kind of hope they do get divorced now, I really do. I also hope that they get stung by a bee, both of them, and preferably in a sensitive area. Like… I don’t wish them any great harm, but I kind of REALLY hope that they experience some discomfort, swelling and I hope when the sting is healing it gets REALLY itchy, I also hope that they receive no press over their inevitable divorce and they just have to sit there and be divorced and no one knows about it but them.
WHAT?!? I can’t fathom it. It is the front page equivalent of a Dad sitting in the front of the car saying... “One more argument, I mean it, Peter, you keep your damn hands to yourself or I swear to heavens I am turning this car around”
DAD ACTUALLY TURNS CAR AROUND AND WENT HOME. Details at five…
It got me thinking though, the next time I need free press or feel very strongly about something, I am just going to have a tanty and threaten to do something that in the end will really only negatively affect me and have a front page headline.
There are several things I feel that strongly about, and I have a few demands and have come up with Five Major news headline threatening tantrums that are more interesting than Bigots.
WOMAN VOWS NEVER TO WATCH GOT AGAIN IF JON SNOW DIES.
If Jon Snow dies… I am never watching Game of thrones again. That’s it. End of story, they would have done their dash and my retina’s will never again send upside down images of sword fights, fabulous costumes, and siblings having a root to my brain to turn the right way up again. Nope I won’t stand for it.
Take that HBO and George RR, stick that up your fucking jumper.
FORGOTTEN SUPER CHARGE SAUCE, FORCES FRIED CHICKEN BAN, WOMAN'S ARSE THANKS HER.
The next time I go to KFC and they don’t put the super charge sauce in, that’s it. I’m never eating KFC again. Have you tried to digest those nuggets without sauce? It’s like chewing on a salty condom you found in the back of John Mayer’s car. It’s dry, crusty, probably riddled with disease and I need the super charge sauce to trick my brain into thinking it’s a good idea to eat it.
Suck on than Colonel Sanders.
WOMAN WILL PRESS THE TV MUTE BUTTON IF YOU DON'T FUCK OFF WITH THE BMW ADS.
If Foxtel don’t sign up a major advertising client to partner up with Showcase other than BMW i8 series, I am going to turn the sound down in the ads.
Nuh…Too bad… I’m doing it.
I have seen that fucking ad, and heard that irritating little trumpet solo a bazillion times; it gets more and more annoying every time I see it.
I have news for you guys… anyone who can afford a BMW i8 isn’t sitting at home on the lounge, cutting the roof of their mouth on Dorito’s and binge watching the Walking Dead OK? They are at work.
Every time I see a BMW now, which I admit is not very often because I live in Sydney’s South West, but on the odd occasion that I do, I don’t think… Oh… BMW Connected drive, I think... “Shit! Did I remember to record VEEP?
The Ideas of tomorrow, delivered today… *Annoying trumpet solo. *Presses mute.
How do you like them apples BMW?
CANDY CRUSHES FRIENDSHIP
The next person I see threaten to delete someone from Facebook because of game invitations, I am deleting off Facebook.
Hows the irony... So much irony...
seriously though, I doubt very much that anyone has ever missed any major life event because they got a game notification. I get that they can be slightly annoying when you don’t play the games, I know this because I too don’t play Facebook games. (That’s not to say that I don’t play games, I have a high score on bejewelled that is pretty fucking impressive I must say)… but honest to fuck... It’s one little red notification flag. It doesn’t warrant ending lifelong friendships over OK?
Hey, Guess what? If you are SO FUCKING BUSY and important and far too grown up to be THAT outraged by a friend needing a candy crush life, then you are far too fucking busy and important and grown up to crack a sad about it by writing a threatening status about your distress over a red notification on Facebook.
Honestly darlings, I love you guys but... CHANGE YOUR SETTINGS so that you no longer can receive game invitations and calm down.
WOMAN CAN'T EVEN
While I have my curser hovering over the delete friend... yes. Do I really want to delete friend YES buttons, The next person I see share a Boycott Halal page, I will presume you are very uneducated, ill -informed and a bit of a dickhead. There I said it... Nuh.. Too bad.
I don’t like to judge like that, I too struggle with spelling and grammar and I know this doesn’t make me a bad person, but for fuck sake… Read a book. Learn a little, investigate what it is you are sharing, then when you do curl up in a ball and cringe that you were ever that much of a dick to share a boycott halal page.
I promise you that Halal certification does not affect you in anyway, you will be forced into the Muslim faith if you eat Cadbury chocolate, and you will not be lining the pockets of terrorist organisations every time you schmear a bit of vegemite on your toast.
Much in the same way you won’t automatically become a first world Buddhist if you purchase something that is certified Vegan, you won’t contract a food intolerance, or fart as much if you buy things that are certified gluten free.
I am off now, to check if any of my headlines are winning the internet today, also to finish the thousand things I have to do, because I have my finger in a lot of pies right now. I am eight fingers, knuckle deep in a whole lot of different pies, just fingering away… Trying not to have a nervous emotional episode over trying to balance them all.
Hope you are all good.