6.8 Million Reasons

The other day I was flipping through my Twitter feed.  It's a practice I do to pass the time, especially when I'm at work, killing time on my breaks.  Everyone who works there keeps the television channels tuned into either sports or news.  I haven't any interest in sports highlights, and even though the news can be interesting and even inspiring for this blog, a fifteen minute news cycle gets a bit tedious at best.  So I was flipping through Twitter when I happened across a posting from @TMZ, who was reporting on the latest Johnny Depp / Amber Heard divorce news.  It was stated that Amber was set to receive six point eight MILLION dollars from her divorce to Johnny Depp.  I found this number to be outrageous, considering the duo had only been married for a couple of months.

I couldn't pass up the opportunity to comment on the situation and set forth to tapping away on my smartphone, like an angry Donald Trump taking a late night dump.  "$6.8M?? Weren't they only married for like a month or something? I'm not gay, but I'd marry $6.8M payday.  Even half that...😕"

It was a comment that came quick and straight off the cuff, but in retrospect, I probably would.  I'm really not gay at all and even if I was, I'd never go for someone like Johnny Depp.  He's greasy and gross.  However, that withstanding, I've also uttered the words; "You'd be amazed at what kind of bullshit I could put up with if I was getting a good payday out of it."  Granted, those words were spoken in reference to an actual paying job and not marrying me a sugar daddy.

The more I thought about the process, the more appalled I made myself.  I'm sure for a $6.8M payout, there'd be certain, duties that would have to be performed, none of which I'd be too enthused about, but when you compare them to $6.8M, suddenly the shock wears off a little.

The thought sickens me as I type these words, but a marriage has to be consummated in order to be legally binding.  I'd have to get blinding drunk and/or high to block out every ugly sin that would commence on the wedding night and with fingers crossed, we'd never have to revisit that horrifying experience, again.

People would talk, because that's human nature.  TMZ would be all over that shit and when asked to comment, I'd merely smile and utter $6.8M, bitches!  I don't think there's a man alive who wouldn't take a moment to reconsider life choices, for a $6.8M payout.

"Rumour is..., ya had to f*ck a dude..." some random guy would comment.

"Yes, but it was Johnny Depp."

Just about anyone would hum and haw at that and likely slough it off.  "He's greasy, but he's a hell of an actor."

It turns out that Johnny Depp and Amber Heard were married for more than just a couple of months.  It was a little over a year.  That's a few more ass poundings than I'd be willing to go through, but like I said, I'd be willing to get married for half of the $6.8M payout...

Apparently, she claims she'll be donating the monies accrued to charity.  Full disclosure.  I wouldn't.  Marry a dude for a year and give all the money away?  F*ck that.

Haters Gonna Hate Hate Hate

Speaking of hate, I hate the fact that I quoted Taylor Swift for the title of this blog, but don't hold that against me.  That annoying song is a part of pop culture and for argument sake, it fits the subject matter of today's blog.

I'm an avid user of Twitter.  I don't have a high number of followers.  Not many people privy to my unique stance on the world.  In fact,  I'm still yo-yoing in the vicinity of 250 followers, after four years.  I still have fun with it, though.  Trading comments, remarks and praises with my favourite celebrities.  

Once in a while, though, I'm greeted with unwelcome comments, remarks aimed to discredit or belittle me, usually on a personal level.  I generally ignore these comments, but once in a blue moon, a comment crosses before my eyes that I simply cannot leave alone.

One thing that I find most irresistible is my ability to point out the flaws, shortcomings and blatant mistakes that people make.  Spelling errors, poor grammar or general stupidity, I find impossible to not point out, or even belittle, depending on it's severity.

I have a friend on Facebook, whom I continually correct spelling and grammar mistakes.  She thinks I do it out of a need to make her feel stupid, despite my repeated assurances that I don't do it for that reason.  Instead, I do it..., simply because I have no choice.  It's as involuntary as deciding to breathe.  The fact that I point out that her poor education is due to growing up in the city of Regina, Saskatchewan, IS by choice, but that's only because Regina is such a shit-hole.  It's true.  Look it up!

Earlier today, while looking through my Twitter feed, I saw a posting from TMZ that remarked: #Breaking: ATL Hawks star, Thabo Sefolosha, in HEATED scuffle with NYPD officers...  They offer up a video, which I did not click on because, frankly, I don't give a shit.  I did, however, make a quick comment, which was meant as a humourous quip based on the fact that celebrities usually get special treatment over regular folks.  "@TMZ Do the police not know that he's a celebrity? #DifferentRulesForCelebs" is what I wrote.  Less than a minute later, I received a comment from a fellow by the Twitter handle of @prototypekicks, who began questioning my use of the word 'celebrity'.  Back and forth we exchanged comments, each response I received, the more disparaging they got.  I'm not proud of myself, but I deduced that this fellow was of limited education and the meaner he got, the meaner I got.  Unfortunately, when I get mean, I go for blood, getting as vicious as I can.  I go for the jugular, with hopes of offending the party so deeply, they'll give up and leave me alone.

I don't know who Thabo Sefolosha is.  I don't watch basketball.  I barely consider basketball as an actual sport.  Given the terrible physical shape that I'm in, I consider any activity that I can do, can't actually be considered a sport.  Even if I can't do it well, if I can still do it, it's not a sport.  For instance, I'll never make it on the PGA circuit, but I can bang the f*ck out of a golf ball, and therefore golf is not a sport.  That withstanding, the goofball, @prototypekicks, begins giving me the basketball player's stats and claiming that his lack of skill, prevents him from being a celebrity.  Even though, by definition a celebrity is: A famous or well-known person.

@prototypekicks apparently did a check on my Twitter account, as he began attacking this very blog.  Upon reciprocating and doing the same on his account, I gather that he possesses a fetish for sneakers as his photos are overrun with pictures of the gayest looking shoes I've ever seen.  There's no way in hell that any self-respecting man would be seen wearing those shoes, unless it were while performing yard work or shoveling manure.  Hashtag: Ugly as f*ck!

As Taylor Swift croons; Haters are gonna hate hate hate, and I'm certain that this isn't going to be the last Twidiot that crosses paths with me.  Christ!!!  I wish I was paid a dime for every f*ckwad that I exchange words with on Twitter OR Facebook.  I've had to stop following many of my favourite wrestling sites on FB, due to assholes blanketing me with a horrendous barrage of hatred if I say anything negative about the WWE.  

In the end, assholes are going to continue to be gaping assholes, so long as a level of anonymity accompanies their dickishness.  I could care less.  I stand behind every stupid comment I make.  I welcome any backlash that may come of it.  I'm not afraid of any of these simple-minded fools.  Chances are, I could Jedi Mind Trick most of them with the wave of my hand...  Or simply jingle my keys to distract.  I'm not saying I'm better than everyone I interact with on the internet, but DO say that I'm smarter than a majority of them.

"Water's wet.  The sky is blue.  Fact is, I'm way smarter than most of you!" - ToontownJuggalo, to the World Wide Web.