
(Warning: Moose Alert – Day Admin)
(Jeepers creepers! Is that a photo from that Avatar movie from a few years back? – NA)
Whilst watching the idiot box with the beautiful and fragrant Mrs Cunter the other night, this pile of shite came on once again.
YouTube Link
For those not wanting to view the link it is the perfume advert where a dozen or so of the most horrendous women you could ever imagine tell you that they are ‘perfect’.
I asked Mrs Cunter how the advert made her feel.
I said, “You can make the effort to keep in shape and you always have done. You have always looked after your hair and your teeth and been careful about what you eat, so how do you feel about these fuck ugly women telling the world that they are perfect?”
She thought about it for a while and said that she couldn’t give a fuck.
Weary acceptance.
When I was a young man I was actively involved in sport at a national level.
Not just a six pack, I had an eight pack, was devilishly good looking and had absolutely no problem with pulling the fittest girls.
I was a fanny rat, a minge hound if you will.
If I were to have seen a group of ugly, overweight, balding men with rotten teeth who thought that they were perfect, I would have made it quite clear that no they are fucking not.
But now we seem to have accepted the wierd as normal.
We accept The Gays holding hands and kissing in the streets.
We accept their obscene ‘Pride’ marches.
We accept the lunatic men who put on a frock and a wig.
The new acceptance is to call them ‘she’ and ‘her’, even when it is abundantly clear that they are not female.
We now allow this shit to escalate and unless we abandon our weary acceptance who knows where it will stop.
There is a nutter who lives somewhere near the parade of bars and restaurants close to where I live.
He is one of the most unconvincing transsexuals that you would ever see.
We watch him trying to walk in his huge, high heeled shoes, wearing his mini skirt and crop top along with his badly fitting, cheap wig.
He is English.
He will settle himself into a corner of a bar terrace and spend an hour or so trying unsuccessfully to look demure whilst sipping a glass of wine.
He will then lurch off in the direction that he came.
The bar owners and waiting staff have wearily accepted this nut case.
But on one occasion it was raining and there was a kid’s birthday party going on.
Everyone, including the nutter were inside the bar.
The bar owner told the wierdo that he had to leave.
He told him that he was upsetting the children.
There was no acceptance from the bar owner.
It was a leave, or I will throw you out.
That made me question myself.
Being one of the few people that use the bars and who speaks English, I should have confronted this lunatic years ago.
It should have been me that should have told him that he looked and acted ridiculously and was not welcome.
But I was victim to weary acceptance too.
Nominated by: The Artful Cunter