Rape Apology and Rape Culture - Even *you* can contribute to Victim Blaming!

AN: Please keep in mind that this entire angry rant is using the general "you", not the specific "you". Oh for days when we had a choice between "You" and "Thou".

So! You're progressive! You're forward-thinking, forward-acting, and you care about the little people. Bravo!

But don't get too comfortable. Nobody's perfect - that's what it is to be human! In your striving to be compassionate, to be intellectual and logical, however, be careful not to pad your conscience with the bumper zone of being an apologist. Whether that be in charges of racism, sexism, misogyny or what the hell ever.

This Post and subsequent thread at Jezebel illustrates just that.

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A/N2: Please understand that I navigated my own great anger, hurt and fury at the world to write this post. Use some sensitivity if you're going to disagree with me, but really - I rather you just didn't bring it up if you do.

Fuck you, Bunnings Warehouse.

God, the Claremont Bunnings is an absolute fucking shamozzle.

They have a Paint counter there, right? You get your paint mixed up, you go there for consultation. You also have to ask someone behind that counter to unlock the spray paint display so you can buy spraypaint, which is what I wanted to do today.

I had to wait ten minutes while this guy was on call waiting on the phone. I can't stand and wait, I have a disability. I will either collapse or vomit on you right there.

I had to sit down on the dusty, disgusting concrete floor because there was no chair there for people like myself with disabilities. I was in SUPREME agony, standing for as long as I could manage. Then I gave up and sat down. I felt incredibly embarrassed to do so, but I had no choice because of the pain I was in. I'm not gonna lie, I felt really unvalued as a customer. I would have walked out but I really needed the damned spray paint.

I mean - one chair, Bunnings. ONE. You have a whole display of the fucking things around the corner! Is it so inconceivable to you buttfucks that someone might want to sit down while waiting in such a busy place as the Paint station?

God, I am fucking ropeable. I was in so much pain, I nearly vomited on the guy right there.

I don't even want to think about the precious spoons I burnt standing there like a total pillock. Don't even.

My dream.

Every autotune programme and machine in the world spontaneously shits itself and never works again.

Sing your way out of that, assholes.

Wow.

This speech made me cry.

Robert Carlyle, you sexy bastard.

We were watching Hamish McBeth, my Ma, my Da, my brother and I, while we were downing a brilliant chicken and vegetable soup Mum rustled up.

Robert Carlyle is on screen and I let out a little growl. Mum and Dad are all "Wah?"

"He's hot," I inform them.

"What, him?" says Mum. "He has a face like a goat!"

I have never seen a goat that sexy.

"No he doesn't," I say, "He's gorgeous!"

"No, they all look like that in Scotland," says Dad. "I saw a guy get off a bus who looked like him."

*sigh* Clearly, I am living in the wrong fucking country.

This T-Shirt is the best thing you'll ever see.

Personally, I love it more than the 3 Wolves one.

Not good enough, Roger David.

Roger David is a totally wanky fashion chain here in Australia.

They're selling these charming T-shirts (TRIGGER WARNING - RAPE JOKES AT LINK).