April 16: Offensive and Crass – but it’s been around for years, so who gives a f***?

OK. I am well aware that this may turn into a controversial post, so let me say right now, that this is just my personal view. This blog has nothing to do with the physical act of abortion and it has nothing to do with any decisions made regarding abortions.

Tonight at my Poker tournament, I was having a discussion with one of my friends – she asked if I had read the local paper lately and had seen an article about a drink named “Abortion.”

When I got home I got online and searched the topic and then read the related post.

Basically, what had happened was that a woman was in a bar in Warnambool and had noticed on a menu board the drink that proudly bore the name “Abortion” right above a cocktail named “Chernobyl Melt Down.” The woman then raised the concerns with the barman who said “You wouldn’t think it was offensive if you tasted it.”

The woman went to the paper with her complaint as she felt this was a matter worth doing so – she stood up for what she felt was right and what she believed in, and felt that this needed to be acted upon.

The response to the articles has been less than supportive to say the least. Filled with comments such as “Take a shot of cement and harden the f*** up”, “it’s been around for 40 years so just get over it” and “All she wants is sympathy for her self”, it has left me appalled at what is now accepted in todays society.

I think the name is disgusting – it creates a mockery out of a generally heart-breaking decision and is leading people to think its “cool” to walk up to a bar and say “I’ll have an Abortion, thanks!” or “OMG, I had an Abortion last night and it was sooooooo awesome!”

Even taking away the fact that we now live in a predominately overly-PC society (Hello, Baa Baa Rainbow Sheep), I strongly feel that this takes this way too far – even if the drink has been around for two decades.

I feel that the woman has done the right thing in bringing light to the fact that todays culture accepts such crass names for their drinks – especially ones such as “Abortion”, “Holocaust”, “Chernobyl Melt Down” etc. I have nothing but complete understanding for why she felt that this was newsworthy and needed to be brought into the light.

Does this mean that one day, any name will do? How is it that much different to the child who was named Adolf and removed away from his parents because of it? Is that because it’s an alcohol, so it doesn’t matter?

I know that I do not want my kids growing up in a world where to make a mockery of an incredibly serious matter, such as Chernobyl, is considered OK and acceptable. And I definitely do not want my kids to walk up to a bar and ask for an Abortion because it’s the “norm” to degrade a persons suffering.

What are your thoughts on this matter? Have we, as a culture, become PC to the point that we’re too lax about everything? Or do you think that this is has been taken too far? I would love to hear your opinions on the matter!

Border Mail Story: “Cocktail Name Disgusting”
Warnambool Standard Story: “Name of cocktail leaves a Bad taste”

 

15 April: My KuppyKake.

KUPPYKAKES FO LYF, HOMIE!

You know how you go through life, and you make new friends as often as you lose old ones? I’m pretty lucky in that my circle hasn’t really changed much in the last couple of years, except for one or two who I just had to let go of.

But one, whom you hear about quite a lot, is very special to me.

Meeka and I have only been friends for about 10 months but it feels like longer: she’s my go to when things get stuck and I can’t fix it, she’s the one who I can message at stupid-o-clock in the morning because I had a nightmare, she’s the one who listens to my crazy, then throws her kids at me and says “hold these while we figure this out.”

The thing that makes me admire her, though, is her sheer tenacity. It doesn’t matter if her world is crumbling and she losing her mind, I only have to call her and I know she will be by my side.

She’s generous so much that it does, sometimes, annoy me. She’s one of these people that will give you the only bra she has left if you need it, purely because YOU need it. Unfortunately, that leaves her and her husband, Vinny, open to be used and abused by other, less scrupulous folk – which does kinda make me go all pissy because to me, that’s not what people should do.

It’s the little things she does for me, though, that make me wonder at her absolute and utter amazingness: I mentioned one day that I always wanted big balloons on a birthday. You know, those huge number ones that are just about taller than a ten year old? When I came home from visiting my mum on my birthday I walked into my dining room and nearly died – there, in their silver inflated fantastic-ness, were two balloons, a 2 and a 5, surrounded by smaller purple balloons. It was one of the most amazing presents I have ever gotten.

Or there’s the time when I was doing a kake and needed a particular item for it but I couldn’t get to Coles to get it. Next thing I know, Meeka is on my doorstep with exactly what I need as well as my favorite drink.

I have a lot of friends – I am very lucky in that all of them are there for me, no matter what I am going through. But Meeka is the one I call when I am stressing and on the verge of breathing into a paper bag, she’s the one who makes me get my shit together and stop being a sook, and above all else, she’s the one who lubbs me no matter what I have done, or am doing, or want to do.

Friendship these days seems to be a case of “you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours” – but I love knowing that with Tamika, even if I was unable to do anything for her, she would still be my friend, she would still have my back, and she would still Lubb me.

To me, that’s what friendship is all about.