Bang, crash, lawsuit

You've got to admire the moxie (or balls - topical reference) of the Australian broad who injured herself during an 'adult situation' and attempted to sue her employer because it happened on a business trip.

Having painstakingly pieced together the various bits of forensic evidence, it appears that in the throes of passion with a 'colleague' (make of that what you will), she managed to rip a light fitting off a wall which promptly twatted her in the face.  Lips were bust, eyes were blacked and one would presume coitus was suspended, unless she's into that kind of thing.

Initially, she actually got compensation, until the High Court's Pisstaking Division got involved and told her to turn it in.  Her employer quite rightly insisted that her actions, whilst carried out during a business trip, were not actually part of her role with the company, and anything she does on her own time is none of their concern.  Quite how she got from 'I can't believe I've just done that' to 'Well, this is clearly the company's fault - heads are gonna roll' is anyone's guess, and her unflinching brazenness in bringing this into the public domain has to be applauded.  Win, lose or draw, she's managed to drag her own reputation through the muck in the process, making her unemployable at best, a misguided harlot at worst.

Thankfully, her case being thrown out prevented the setting of any precedence, where any Tom, Dick (arf) or Harry would start filing nuisance lawsuits because they'd trapped their bell end in a trouser press, or got into a compromising situation with a Filipino chamber maid for whom 'no' really does mean 'no'.  Hopefully she'll think twice the next time she gets herself into this situation (cos you know she will).  My advice would be to test the structural integrity of the room before beginning any shenanigans.  That, and to record the whole event.  That way, if it all goes to plan, you've got a romantic keepsake, but if chaos ensues, you can send it in to You've Been Framed for a grand (I know, a grand!).

Girl grows up. Nation melts down

Professional 'entertainer' Miley Cyrus has created quite a stir this week (and not just in mens' underpants!!!). The former wholesome child star of Hannah Fantana has graduated to being a fully-fledged woman, with tits and what have you. Capitalising on her minx-like persona, she wore tiny kecks and a bra to cavort, bump and/or grind her way through some atrocious piece of music during the MTV Music Awards. Instead of brushing it off as a typical piece of PR to drum up music sales (akin to Madonna and Britney having a snog, or that lad Gaga wearing a dress made of beef), some parts of the popular press have gone into meltdown, citing the end of the world and questioning the mental state of a 20-year-old with a butt that won't quit.

Such displays of fleshmongering are not new. Recall that 'Dirty' caper by Christina Aguilera back in the early Noughties. A few eyebrows were raised (amongst other things!!!) but nobody seemed to go batshit about it, seemingly because she was an attractive woman making the most of what God gave her (and ultimately took away, if recent photos are to be believed). It seems young Miley has captured the imagination of some of the more conservative members of society because she used to be a child star, and therefore any development into anything remotely sexual is the work of Satan himself, and the only explanation is she must be mentally ill or have daddy issues (the latter of which is perfectly understandable, given who her old man is).

Isn't it even slightly possible that she is just being a young woman doing what some young women do? Does dressing up in skimpy attire instantly mean she has some kind of issue or torment? I've commented before about certain well-put-together young ladies, and how if I were similarly stacked I would in all likelihood strut around in all manner of revealing get-up. It doesn't necessarily mean I'm bereft of confidence or struggling with crippling emotional concerns; I could just be an epic cock-tease.

Miley hasn't so far commented on the uproar which has surrounded her 'performance' the other day, and I very much doubt she will. I won't pretend I've scoured the media particularly closely for reactions from all quarters, but I'm yet to see any response from young girls suggesting she is some kind of role model and they will live their life like her from now on. Quite honestly, if your teenage daughter is looking up to a 20-year-old in a bra as a bastion of moral fortitude, it's you who needs to take a long, hard look in the mirror, not her. I recommend wearing a bra and pants while you do.

She said what?!?!? Get her!

You know those occasions where you see something in the popular press or on that Internet, and the content of the prose makes you so cross that your only response is to threaten to rape the author?

No, me neither.

I'm a pretty liberal cat, but even I think rape is bad; wrong even. Whilst I can't argue about its ability to get the point across, it's not the most subtle of argumentative tools. What's wrong with opening a debate, putting your collective points across and agreeing that ultimately it's a futile argument; Chelsee Healey is fit and THAT'S THE BLOODY END OF IT, OK?

I need not tell you this whole rape kerboodle started when a female MP had the temerity, the brass neck, the sheer bloody-mindedness, to campaign to have the image of a female on the back of a new bank note. Now, as far as feminist ideals go, this is towards the bottom of the scale in my mind. It's not as if they're women-only bank notes, usable only by the fairer sex. Nor does it represent the final emasculation of the male species, as the last image of a man is finally scrubbed from our currency as those bra-sporting period-havers finally wrestle control from men and bring in their terrifying regime.

The reaction to this woman's ultimately successful campaign was misguided at best; concerning at worst. Numerous threats of rape were made against this woman within minutes of the news breaking. Not belittling her cause, not slagging her off for her choice of woman to appear on the bank note, not even congratulation. No, "I'm gon' rape you, dog" was the gist of a myriad misogynists' responses.

Thankfully, the Feds haven't hung about, and a couple of arrests have already been made. What perhaps surprises me most about this is that tweets or Facebook posts are widely available and pretty damning in their content. If you were to threaten to rape someone in the street, you could at least play the 'he said, she said' card. If you go and write it down and broadcast it on that Internet, your defence is at best shaky.

I'm not naive enough to think these people didn't already exist, although I imagine the majority of the posters in this story are probably cowards, just trying to fuel their knackered confidence by threatening to forcefully deflower some poor, unsuspecting politician. That said, I think the time has come for some organisation, be it the police, the Government or the coastguard, to step into this online abuse debate and start kicking some ass and imprisoning people, if only to make the next berk thinking of making such a threat to think again.

It's either that or people growing up and accepting other people's points of view. Zing!

But she's fat. I need to tell that Internet

Some folk are insecure. Sorry for the bluntness, but sometimes you have to take the bull by the horns and call a spade a spade. Especially when you're conjoining metaphors.

However, some folk are so insecure that they need the outlet of the comments section on a celebrity story to get their neuroses off their presumably flat chests.

Case in point; the lovely Gemma Arterton. English rose, award-winning actress, fit as fuck. However you dress it up, she done nothing wrong and seems to be making her way through life sporting tight togs to accentuate her 'curves' (newspaper speak for 'tits and arse'). A couple of days ago she turned up at some kind of pre-arranged shindig, wore some nice garb and had her picture taken.

Well, she had it coming didn't she? I mean, she was arskin' for it your Honour.

The number of people (presumably female given their clumsy Internet monikers) calling her fat was utterly ludicrous. I'm not a scientist or an expert in body mass to any serious degree, but at your most negative you could describe her as 'top-heavy', which in my day was the very definition of a compliment to a bit of fluff down the old battle cruiser. Presumably such ill-informed barbs have a cleansing effect on the people making the comments, as if calling an attractive person fat somehow heals their soul and restores their idea of equilibrium. I doubt Gemma sees the comments, thinks 'God, they're right, I'm a right pie-arse' and descends into a spiral of self-loathing and Kit Kat consumption. In all likelihood she doesn't give the shiniest of shites.

I'm all for free speech, but you have to draw a line somewhere. I'm not defending top-heavy lovely Gemma specifically; most stories carrying pictures of people perceived to be fly tend to be inundated with negative responses regarding their physical appearance. By all means pick on them for the questionable morals, clothing or tattoos, but saying someone is fat just because you're jealous is bogus, dude.

At the end of the day, as long as people have got holes in their arses they're going be mean to people better than them to bolster their rock-bottom confidence, and restore parity in their fantasy world where Tulisa or Adolf actually give a rat's ass about your opinions. Presumably that's why people keep putting dog dirt on my door handles.

(Don't) get your tits out

Before we start, this is a rant, not a complaint, so any mention of irony is entirely unfounded.

Who are these people who are so offended by the most banal, nondescript things shown on TV that they are moved to ring the TV station and complain about it?

The latest in a long line of busybodying concerns walking tooth factory Holly Willoughrack, who wore a dress that at best could be described as 'riqsue', at worst 'mildly alluring'. Househusbands favourite Holly is not averse to wearing tight-fitting garb and continued that impressive run on prime-time shout-fest The Voice over the weekend, where crowing wannabees are hauled in front of the great and the Will.I.Am of modern music to sing for their supper, while their family understandably cry in the green room. Last Saturday's show saw Miss Willoughjumperbumps wearing a seemingly offensive dress, with a modest cut-out in the boobal area showing her goods in a manner that you would expect at a former gangster's funeral.

The fall-out (arf) though was unprecedented; over 100 complaints to the BBC about the unsuitability of the outfit. The Beeb were even moved to release a statement accepting the complaints, as if she turned up wearing a full body stocking with fig leaves covering her gubbins.

Now, I've studied these pictures repeatedly from every conceivable angle and I'm yet to find anything remotely inappropriate about them. I understand that the programme is on at a time accessible by kids so certain standards need to be upheld, but I'd be very surprised if any toddlers were among the 100 or so goons deploring the partial display of Holly Willoughshirtpotatoes' funbags.

Seriously, if you're that offended, why don't you just turn over? There are plenty of things which offend me on TV - that faux-reality Made in Chelsea cobblers, the breathless coverage of the most minor of events by Sky News as if the world is about to implode, any ITV drama - and the fact that they're watching The Voice, yet are only moved to complain about the host's get-up says more about them than society in general.

The BBC don't care about your views. They don't care that you're offended, not least because it creates a story and gives their dreadful output free publicity. You're not in their key demographic; you don't say 'Amaze-balls', you don't wear a cap far too big for you, and you don't think Channel 4's haikus are entertaining. You're a middle-aged busybody who thinks that anything not presented by that lovely Fiona Bruce is akin to Nazism. If you really want to make an impact, try writing a blog on that Internet. Then people will sit up and take notice.