Bye Felicia.

Good god I’ve done it again. Somehow offended some people by posting a photo of an embroidered ovary dress. Shit. 8 months down the track we still manage to pick up a few people that can take offence to the written word of Far Kew. And I just don’t get it, perhaps I never will.

My Facebook likes go up and down as fast as the ass of a horny high schooler. There you go *drops bomb and walks away*.

But the moments that leave me mystified are the people who announce loudly that they are upset with what I’ve written and say “It’s time to unfollow this page”. Then they don’t. But later down the thread they say it again for maximum effect. Crickets.

Source: Urban Dictionary

I’m just me, I say the same shit that I would say in front of my friends and I’ve never had anyone tell me they are walking out of my life because of it. So this online fury is new to me, I really didn’t think I was that offensive. To suggest I’ve “shamed” a celebrity over having a weird vagina dress is one thing, but then to “shame” me for supposedly being so horrible? What’s the difference? I find it odd.

The point I am getting at is this. I don’t drown kittens, I don’t steal your car and I don’t set fire to your house. I will SAY WHATEVER THE FUCK I LIKE on my own Facebook page. It’s important that we have the right to express ourselves and not censor absolutely bloody everything. Where’s the fun in that?

Tove Lo has the right to wear her vagina dress. I have the right to say it was weird. You want sunshine and affirmations? I’m not your girl.



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