Breaking Through The Bubble

Hey, which are you sick of hearing about more; me being sick or the Christchurch fucking earthquake?

Personally, for me, it’s the latter although I’m just about over the former too. It doesn’t help that I’ve been in isolation for five days watching wall to boring wall coverage of the quake.

Thankfully I am now out of isolation and the doctors say I’m on the mend but given that I didn’t once think of playing with myself in that entire time I’m not so sure...

Why I’ve even left the room a few times too, with Mrs ClubDes to make a cuppa and always with a surgical mask ala Michael Jackson. I don’t need to wear the mask, so say those that would supposedly know, but given the last guy admitted with my condition died on account of something he picked up whilst staying here I’ll keep it on, fuck you very much.

Despite being in a hospital I feel very strange in wearing one.

I can’t help but feel I must look like an Asian on my walk to work, which is a bizarre thing anyway when you consider that Asians are prepared to bombard their ovaries and testes with the gamma rays from any number of miniature electronic devices they profigate but yet, they stress over a little bit of airborne carbon monoxide?!

Of course being a fully fledged ninja I am well used to wearing a facial mask but then I’m used to being completely invisible when I do so too. Hence my anxiety.

It’s fair to say then that with my isolation and paranoia about cross infection I have become a little, shall we say, unhinged. Last night I ventured out by myself in the 9pm twilight for a simple char run and it all went horribly wrong.

The writing was on the wall when I passed the room where I could see two massive, black feet, face down and sticking out from the end of the bed. Was it a patient, I wondered, or was it some dear old lady getting railed by a six foot four black man, because that really would be alternative medicine at its most inventive...

Then there were the fire doors that were closed, thus blocking my way to the kitchen. Now usually I’m well aware that pushing the green button releases these things but for some inexplicable reason all logic went out the window and I panicked.

For two reasons really; I’m a little on edge as it is but also a good looking blonde nurse was watching what I was doing and possibly all the time wondering just how awesome a guy needs to be to get a Captain Awesome tee shirt issued to him like the one I was wearing.

Naturally I was eager not to disappoint her by failing to navigate a fire door because that would be distinctly un-awesome.

So I doubled round to the second set of doors and they too were closed. They even had a bit of paper stuck on them telling me to use the button but yet, I retreated back into the night and scarpered back to the safety of my room - my bubble - tea less and slightly concerned that my room was only one away from the black man.

Actually, come to think of it, if I’m having thoughts like that then maybe I am on the road to recovery after all...

Save The Whale? Not This One...

Some people should be banned from owning computers. Like the guy who writes the Whale blubber – I mean oil – blog site.

According to Wikipedia he’s a ‘controversial NZ blogger’ but I challenge that description and in doing so I might be about to break the rule of some unwritten blogger's union by criticizing the guy, but I don’t give a fuck. I only belong to the one association; the Captain Awesome Union, membership of one. Me.

He’s in court this week for breaching suppression orders because he on his blog he ‘outs’ high profile people who get name suppression when they beat their wives or fiddle their kids. Now I support the principal that is naming and shaming these pricks, but sadly, there’s more to Whale Blubber than just the community service he likes to think he’s doing.

I’ve read his blog a couple of times and maybe it’s just me, but I could never work out who it was that he was trying to name anyway, which is surprising because I’m an intelligent man. He doesn’t actually name them as much as give you the clues so that you can figure it out i.e. a pictogram.

Perhaps therein lies my problem; I always have all the answers it’s just the questions that confuse me.

Aside from this fantastic public service that he does, or doesn’t do depending which way you look at it, he also indulges in the following; name calling, personal attacks, speculation on the penis size of those that disagree with him (which is a bit rich considering it’s probably been some time since he saw his own) and other such gems you’d expect from someone best describe as an ‘angry old man’.

In his trail this week it was revealed he suffers from clinical depression and takes medication. Sure, don’t we all. Earlier this year it was reported that he and his wife lost their family home after insurance payments for his depression were stopped by his insurer. It led to an emotional exchange of posts on the Blubber blog between him and his wife who clearly don’t actually talk to each other in person.

Who knew you could get paid for being a sad fuck aye? I sense a lifestyle change coming on.

It’s about now that I’m starting to get a bit bored of this whole sorry saga and as we all know boredom leads to porndom, but one look at this guy will soon solve that. He is the stereotypical look one would associate with a blogger and he gives us all a bad name, especially the ridiculously good looking ones like me*.

Apparently he has a job in the real world but that doesn’t stop him from blogging constantly. Fuck if I tried that carry on at my work I would be out on my arse but yet a little something like ‘job security’ probably doesn’t rate high on this guy’s give-a-fuck scale.

Here’s what I think. I think it’s easy to be an arsehole to lots of people and then hide behind the excuse that is clinical depression. I think it’s easy to be a political commentator when your father used to be the President of the National Party and tells you how and what to think.

I also think it’s easy to make like you’re some virtual vigilante when in fact you don’t really reveal anything so I reckon it’s time Whale Blubber got out from behind his PC, got himself some exercise, some fresh air and pretty much a life. I'd also like it very much if he didn't turn up on the news while I'm trying to eat.

Otherwise I’m going to point the Japanese Whale Fleet in his direction.

*You're a very close second KB.