bloggity blog, Mother Fucking Rant

Witch-hunt … Really?

Here are my two cents. I was holding off giving them but here they fucking are.

Get your delicate eyeballs ready for some foul language, cause I am fucking pissed the fuck off.

Two reasons why it piss me the fuck off when these men call the “outing” of sexual fucking predators a witch-hunt.

Number Fucking One)

It is not a witch-hunt when you are tracking down FUCKING CRIMINALS!

These douchey, entitled, smug men who thought they were so un-fucking-touchable cause of their fame or money or power or whatever, broke the law. You cannot touch someone who doesn’t want your filthy fucking hands on them. You cannot be suggestive towards someone unless they actually have specifically fucking told you that they want you to say dirty shit to them.

I once read something by someone (sorry I cannot give you credit) that was perfect. If you wouldn’t say it or do it to Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson, then don’t fucking do it to a woman. Still don’t get it? Go read this.

So, next time you go to send a dick pic to the chick in the apartment across from you or slap an intern’s arse or grab a woman by the (insert any body part here, not just her pussy) imagine the Rock’s face and don’t fucking do it unless she has begged to see your cock.

If she (or he) hasn’t specifically backed up into your personal space and begged you to slap her firm, round buttocks, don’t touch the hiney.  But if someone does back their arse into your personal space, butt-first, and you don’t want their shit-plopper in your face, that ain’t cool either.

If she (or he) hasn’t said something along the lines of “please! For the love of all that is under Odin’s rule, send me a photo of your hard, throbbing cock” don’t send the dick pic.

Number Fucking Two)

Witch-hunt … Really?

You bunch of over-privileged, penis mushrooms. You sack of rich, pig-headed, taint moles.

Are you seriously choosing “Witch-hunt” to describe these law-breakers being outed for sexual harassment against women.

Let’s fucking think about this for a few fucking moments, shall we???

Let us go and check our fucking history books. Go on. I’ll fucking wait.

Are we all back? Fucking brilliant.

Now, before all you blokes get your balls in a twist. Yes, they did burn men in the witch-trials too. I’m not saying they didn’t. They burned fucking children too (the foreskin nuggets) But it is like the whole domestic violence thing. Yes, there are men that are in terrible domestic violence situations out there and they need the same sort of care as the women.

But the numbers are a tad fucking skewed in the “humans with vaginas” direction.

I don’t feel like getting into the horrifying details of the torture and systematic femicide that occurred during the witch trials. If you wish to read about it, I’ll link some sites that go into it a little more.

Don’t compare your fucking hungry cock that you can’t control to the murder and torture and rape of hundreds of thousands of women. Just don’t. Fucking stop it.

If you don’t want a “witch-hunt,” stop fucking diddling women who don’t want your filthy fucking hands on them. End of fucking story.

No more silence!

Light the fucking torches, girls! Grab your bras and pitch forks and tampons and matches. They want a fucking witch-hunt? Give them one!

Time’s up, mother fuckers.

 

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Australia is like Melisandre’s snatch

I’m Australian. Like, as in, I was born here. Blood-nationality (if there even really is such a random notion) I’m like a slow-cooked stew. But that is not at all what I wanna talk about today. actually I don’t really wanna talk about anything. (But here we are …)

Why don’t I want to do anything?

Cause it is fucking hot here!

Australia is like sitting under Vulcan’s ballsack. (The Roman god of fire not the Trekkie kind)

Australia is like Mordor in the Summer time.

Australia is like Melisandre’s snatch.

Australia is like a giant  bowl of boiling chili. It is hot. Like “hot” hot. Like “fuck off” hot. Like “we have pulled all of our mattresses out into the only A/Ced room” hot. (See the heat is making me WAY more vulgar than I normally am.)

It was 47C here the other day. That is 117F…

If all you lovely Americans, having your snow storms up there, could please send some our way? I would super appreciate that.

Please and thank you.

That’s all I came here to say toady.

No life lessons.

No shiny pearls of fucking wisdom.

Just me bitching because I have to walk around in clothing and I can’t just get around topless like blokes can. And complaining that I am currently using antiperspirant in my bra as well as my armpits because boob sweat is a real problem and it’s super gross.

Now, I’m gonna leave you with that image and go pass out in the lounge room and day dream about winter.

PS Please feel free to tag me or send me picks of your snow. I just wanna look at and imagine I’m rolling around in it. Thanks

Love

Amberley

Oh and I will leave the google link for Hot Australia here because they were fucking hilarious and I couldn’t put them all here…

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Tattered wings

I (tried) to rescue a moth today.

It had managed to get itself stuck between the pavers and a brick wall.

I noticed because I could hear this noise while I wrote. A flap flap flap flap flap flap flap flap … silence … then flap flap flap flap flap flap flap flap flap. I had to go searching.

When I finally found the source of the tiny noise, a noise seemingly only I could hear. (My roomy thought I had finally lost my last marble)

I was saddened by what I saw.

It had been a big moth. Black and grey and white. Once it may have had wings to rival some butterflies. But in its night-long struggle to get out, its wings were only tatters. Torn. Worn down. All the scaley pixie dust covering from them, gone.

I still rescued it, picking it out of its prison and holding its fluttering, panicked body in my hands.

I still put it in the garden. Bit I knew it was as good as spider food.

In all its efforts to get free, its furious flapping to save itself was what ultimately caused its death.

If it had simply waited and then walked out of the hole, it would still have its wings intact.