Vociferar, Despotricar

For some reason, having problems posting photos today so my flower porn will have to wait.

Rats. I am sure you are all equally upset.

Therefore, instead of fotoyograffs, it's RANTING time. Sorry if you read this earlier and are surprised to see the growth of the rants but really, this is me and you should know better.

I don't like this woman at all - with Gawker on that - and it's a mawkish, badly written article, in my opinion, but I did like the gist of it. And if it gets the message to New York Post readers, so much the better.

This is fairly typical standard of debate, sadly, but it's worth a look... particularly for Gawker's commentary.

And yes, I have essentially just copied stuff from Gawker.

This is incredibly politically incorrect, but it might be genius. I just can't decide whether a bleeding heart liberal like myself is allowed to enjoy its irony. But it is funny.

To balance out my shame from above, and improve my pinko credentials, here is a link to the woman who is probably my biggest hero. She is strong, brave, and I am going to watch her arrive in New York at the end of this month. And bawl. Some of you may know about my inability to stay dry eyed during a marathon, and this woman kills me every time. She motivated me to start running and not be utterly pathetic whilst I was struggling to complete the six minute run burst while training for my first ever Race for Life in Alexandra Park, between Bounds Green and Muswell Hill - those were the days.

AND to change this yet again, this expresses so much about my sentiments about marriage, but much more articulately than when my very good friends have let me consume three or four pints of loopy juice (otherwise known as Hoegaarden) in a pub in oooh, say, Marylebone, and are baiting me about marriage for kicks and sport. You know who you are.

And for a final message today, Bling Responsibly.