Fuck You, Daily Mail.

2016 has been a rough ride for many. As I reflect on my year and think about what I want 2017 to be, one thing comes to mind. Walk my talk. I also want to stretch myself and my mind, and not just let things happen to me. I wish to be more present in my decision making and also own my thoughts more.

Another thing I want is less sadness. That might sound simplistic and impossible to avoid, but I’ve figured out a way to manage my year and inject less sadness into it. And that is to BAN THE DAILY FUCKING MAIL from my life. This piece of shit, trashy website, is the skid mark on journalism. The festering boil on the ass of the printed word. Dr Pimple Popper wouldn’t even have a go at this one, it is far too rancid. 

I used to think it was harmless to soak up articles like dole bludgers extravagant lifestyles, animals being smuggled inside people’s assholes and plastic surgery nightmares. Who doesn’t want to hear about Bruce the crocodile, who walked 25kms in the blazing heat to find his soulmate after dodging death from a boat propellor? OK, I made that up, but you know the sort of shit I am referring to.

I’d even read celebrity scandals and the top showbiz headlines because it was easy to get it in one place. Between Zilda Williams’ ( a self-made Daily Mail celebrity) once “ample cleavage” reduction and the 8 million long-focus lens shots of celebrities on the beach, it seemed like fluff to me. I wasn’t even sure why I was reading it, but I was.

Would you like rape with that?

What I was also unwittingly being  fed was a large amount of very distressing news stories of child abuse and human suffering with “click bait” headlines. I won’t paste them here, but we are talking about some very disturbing and awful headlines that are written deliberately to shock and horrify. And to make you click the article. Sometimes I would cry for ten minutes, other times I would cry for half a day at the terrifying and horrible stories I would read. And with an obsessive brain like mine, it’s hard to switch off.

Would you like murder and torture with that?

The thing about the Daily Mail is it is designed to make you feel sad, shocked, angry and confused. You will feel like humanity is going to hell if you read too many of their articles. Those sorts of stories casually thrown into the front page alongside Margot Robbie and her Byron Bay nuptials are awful, shocking headlines that are mostly serving no purpose but to make the victims lives hell and sensationalise horror and human suffering for zero gain.

How about some rehashed stories from years ago?

And the comments. Let’s just say you will lose many, many, brain cells if you dive in there for a gawk. 

What about Granny Panties? Everyone loves panties. Panties. Panties. PANTIES!!

The Samantha Armytage “granny panties” story a few weeks ago just solidified to me why I need to stop supporting this low brow excuse for a news outlet and “walk my talk”.

A few months ago I ranted about how I thought Kim Kardashian was dangerous. I vowed never to click on, read, or watch anything Kardashian related. And I’ve stuck to my word, much to The Husbands delight. 

So I hereby declare I will never be reading the Daily Mail again. I reject their granny panties and their incessant reporting on pedophilia and their ample cleavage and their pert derrieres. I say no to their gutter journalism and their intrusions on peoples lives. 

If I want to read the real news I will actively seek out trusted sources and pick and choose the headlines I click on. Am I burying my head in the sand? Can I ignore all bad news? Of course I can’t. But I can choose to put out positivity and spend my time on my family and enriching my own life, rather than soaking up the horror, sorrow and misfortune of others who’s lives I cannot change.

And I really don’t give a shit what kind of undies the lovely Samantha chooses to wear on her day off.

I’m walking my talk, are you with me?


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