internet harpy

Would Blonde #756 come in please, your time is up... (haven’t done a long winded rant in quite some time...grab a stiff drink!)

It occurs to me as it often does with hypocritical oxygen thieves known better as internet trolling harpies, that the stories that seem to come out of the cesspool of life, ie the dark dank places where their souls once where. Now barren land with nothing but echoes to comfort them in thier lonely lives…it is always the same theme; random blonde, short or tall (what ever happened to dark haired Abbie dear Abbie?)

A fitness instructor, a runway model, a not all that well known actress (currently B listed) a model (curently posing in her underwear) a food guru, a Peak Fitness supporter, the list goes on and on. Always the same excuse; my best friends, best friends cousin, whose cat just ate the dogs lunch last week, saw Sam with……(fill in the blanks) you know if i didn’t know any better i’d say that these accounts come from the same source, or same source of people…oopsie!!

Yes we have all unfortunately had experience with the lastes ramblings of predictable perv, her spiralling hysteria has caught all of our attention, inside this fandom and outside of it. The problem with trolls is that they don’t know when to quit. Their madness knows no end, which is why they have to post long winded, half assed essays, outlining why they are never wrong and the rest of the world is stupid. Super elite shippers is her new name for anyone who fall into the category of ‘delusional’ if you believe two people who have worked closely together for any period of time, cannot simply fall in love. In her mind it’s impossible; Sam is a young, handsome man, an actor with a great deal of potential and that potential should not be wasted on one woman. No, he must go forth and sow his wild single oats, allow fans to fawn and drool over him in his single status (of course he may partake in as many meaningless one night stands as he can and leave them for the next available single (blonde) who just so happens to be walking within a metre of him at any given time)

The poisonous pretender has been peddling the same obsessed BS since her twilight fandom days (remember the name Frizscilla, esp the scilla bit as you will see it in her more noxious posts) when she obsessed over another British actor. Then she pretended to be a Rob and Kristen supporter, before showing her true colours, that she was only interested in the hot male and hated the young slip of a girl he was with (deja vu anyone?) and thus tried to spin stories that suited her narrative. With Caitriona Balfe it’s no different, with the exception that Cait is not a slip of a girl, but a full grown woman who has been around the media and entertainment industry (modelling is another branch of advertising oneself for the form or art of beauty) for quite some time now. She may not have ever been an actress at the beginning (i mean have you seen ‘Now You See Me’ a glamorous modelesk looking wife of a rich tycoon…no speaking part WTF???

According to practically insane, she has intel on not only Cait, but her friends and friends of friends, who all seem to sing the praises of Tony; the wooden desk to Frank Randall’s leather armchair, the tobacco to his pipe, the argyle socks to his comfortable loafers…i could go on, as Tony McGill to me is about as exciting as Professor Frank-the-futer Randall, both in and out of the bedroom…ie, predictably boring. Pretentious prickle face likes to make assertions that the footfall (or lack thereof) of darling Tony on Social Media or anywhere else it seems is because he’s a very private person. So private, that only ‘she’ has the skinny on him and no one else (medication is advised at this stage of her psychosis) I find her lack of intelligence very disturbing. But then again, she lives, eats and breathes the internet so much so, I’m surprised Morpheus hasn’t told her the Matrix has her and she has to take the red pill??

Internet trolls only purpose is to cause as much annoyance as possible. They’re like little fleas, they are everywhere and hop from one living flesh to another, feasting on the warm blood of happy human life. They have no life, their aim is to be as narcissistic as possible, bitter and twisted in their logic, that Sam thinking of Cait as anything other than mutual work colleague respect goes way beyond what their collective one brain cell can hold. Those who follow a male actor and obsess over him, be strongly advised, that he will never look at you the way you hope he will. That suddenly the world will fall away and it will only be you and he left, looking lovingly at each other (sharp blows to the head is an option) he has a life, he has friends, good friends, true friends and none of them are singing like canaries to a bitter little bitch in the US of A; sitting all alone in her bedroom and creating fantasy stories she posts online, for people to read and believe (only if they are desperate for disappointment?)

Neither is Cait’s friends, speaking to anyone they don’t know personally enough. So that rules out any bathroom confessions while reapplying lipstick at any key event she has attended with or without PA looking Tony and her entourage. No one who has worked in any part of the industry talks openly (loose lipped) they don’t know, therefore do not trust. As i said, this is not Cait’s first rodeo in the ‘being famous and talking to the media’ she handles herself impeccably well as does Sam and if you don’t believe they are not aware of the idiot and her sad little bunch of primates…think again.

Blonde 1-99 and beyond…the story is lame as is the people pushing it.

Cait with Tony, i’d rather watch Frank give it to Claire - doggy style than believe that the vivacious, passionate and very tactile Caitriona is happy settling for plain and boring, than exciting and unpredictable;

Internet trolls will always be internet trolls, we just need to develop a big enough bug spray to kill them all.

^ Perv writing her latest installment on her ‘truthseekers’ blogwash…