Read me...

Alright, alright, I admit it - I have been an illusive soul. I have been trying to think of an excuse for my lack of blogging for the past few days, coming to no justifiable conclusion. I could claim to be manically busy, penning articles galore but, I would be lying.

This being said, things, as ever, have been getting on m'tits. I have been itching to write a few pieces but, for some reason or another, I have been drawn further towards the white wine sat in front of me than the Apple Mac.

One of the said irritations I talk of is the ongoing presence of trolling. Like the Furby craze, it keeps coming back. Also like the Furby craze, there is no need. What brings people to type their aggression into one hundred and forty characters still leaves me baffled. For starters, if you are truly mad about something, one hundred and forty characters just won't cover it. It won't stretch. I have been truly mad countless times - the time Prince Harry started dating a underwear model, the time Ryan Gosling chose to build that b*tch McAdams a house and not me, the time the Queen didn't invite me to the Royal Wedding and then pushed me over the edge by not inviting me to the Jubilee either. Emotions that could not be penned in one thousand and forty characters, let alone one hundred and forty.

So, what is it!? It seems to me that the Great British public (like any other) has balls the size of watermelons when sat behind a computer screen in the comfort of their central heated lounge. But, when it comes to voicing a, somewhat unsavoury, tweet, they shrink to the size of peanuts. Half, no, three quarters of what is written on the internet is not, and will not be heard in the public domain. No wait, maybe that is ignorant (ignorance is bliss) Let me start again. Some people, namely those with a brain the size of a Creme Egg and a willy the size of a Wotsit, will speak their grubby minds and not give a cat's whisker who is listening. But, the majority of the public sector have a brain, an ounce of compassion and an ability to distinguish between right and wrong.

For those of you who are still struggling to distinguish the difference between the two I shall put it in black and white: Trolling, whether it be on Twitter or Facebook is wrong. Whether you mean it or not, your comments hold the ability to hurt - the degree of which is beyond your control. You may be the first in a feed of ugly or, you may be the last. You are the difference between a scratch and a cut to the bone. But what you are, you do not, and will not know.

To me, trolls are sad little sods masquerading as Mr/Mrs Big Bollocks. In the virtual world they are the equivalent of The Hulk, invincible (and conveniently green with envy) but, in the real world (the one we actually live in) they are the gum on The Hulks shoe. Sticky little sh*ts causing only irritation to those who choose roam bug free.

We have all heard our mothers, our teachers, our fathers and our grandparents utter the words: 'it is not big, and it is not clever'. Whilst that pearl of wisdom may have been shrugged off in our prepubescent years, it is now more appropriate than ever. If you have a problem don't take the cheats way out, prove your intelligence, your integrity, your compassion and write a piece that will persuade people that your view, however ridiculous and unsubstantial it may appear to me, is justifiable. That is if you can string a sentence together without abbreviating the life out of the English language.

After all, sticks and stones may break my bones but words will NEVER hurt me.