Horace was reminded of an old gag, all of his gags were old, where you bin, where you wheeliebin? He was wheeling about his garden. It was reasonably green, layered with light rain, fallen leaves, a huge number of butterflies and a hint of dog shit tickling the nostrils.
These things together, although natural, flowed into one’s senses like a slow moving tide. The visual was rather calming, the flight of nature’s stained glass windows on wings was truly magnificent, while the odour, oddly tasteful.
Horace had tried to update a few things in his life, the house, the garden, the car and his place of work. Despite success in the first three, his place of work had gone to shit. The major upheaval was apparently over, the resulting smashed crockery status unable to be restored. It will now try to limp on, trying to cope. It won’t.
Horace had a lot to say as per normal but couldn’t really do so. He was hamstrung, maybe until he left the place. The exit interview would be in written form and rather direct. Horace was pretty good at direct. He thought so at least. The departure date was unclear.
Facebook had been a growing addiction Horace reluctantly accepted and enjoyed. Not much to do, just lot’s of binge watching Tv, binge watching memes, news and music as it sailed on by. His eyes were acting terribly strange from all the screen time and the super fast scrolling. The images were racing up and down.
Horace was in serious trouble. An aspect of his facebook pleasures had come back around and bitten his arse in a big way. His arse wasn’t big, the bitting was. Like he did many times before he shared a meme / video, but this one created a super sized reaction.
The meme / video in question was questionable in nature. A range of almost biological actions disguised in a cloak of decency and humour. As it turned out it failed. It showed a local politician apparently craving for attention and experimenting with a pleasure normally hidden.
Horace had found this tantalising sneak peak into a personal life and immediately knew what gold it was. The politician could try to deny such a thing but facebook never lied. Well maybe not in this case. The meme / video all looked real. Horace knew full well that images can be changed, edited, and both the video and audio could have been manipulated. This one seemed and sounded perfectly correct and likely.
The politician had been involved in revealing issues before. Some might say a taste for all things racy and was very unlucky to achieve such a large audience and that they be horrified in witness to this raciness.
The politician had been able to manage the media up until now. She was a deft hand at bullshit. This facebook meme / video however had such explanations beat. The star was speechless and had yet to react in person to this elastic action.
Horace had to hide. The harassment was overwhelming, because he’d shared this seriously cheeky item he found, those who’d cared, cared to get him. The politician had friends, the community had friends and facebook counted their number.
This increasing number of isolated rabble had jumped on Horace deciding that he was the anti – christ for sharing such a scene and daring to besmirch the less than good name of this politician. Horace hadn’t even created the thing, all he did was share it. He did share it far and wide. To his decreasing number of facebook friends and the groups silly enough to have him as a member.
One of those groups was where he found the meme / video. It was created to expose the creative approach those isolated from Covid-19 (Cornovirus) had applied to their waste bins. They were wheeling their wheeliebins out to the street in preparation for collection in some mighty unusual outfits.
There were hundreds of people, young, old, in-between and of all genders parading their extravagance out into the internet, despite the risks. Many were truly wonderful, hilarious, warm and fuzzy, cute, heartwarming and sad. As with humanity in abnormal times, the response was readily accepted and shared.
This is where Horace came in. This particular one had a huge response but not what Horace was actually looking for. He sought a few likes and onward shares as he did with everything else he did on facebook, but this was extraordinary. He had over 200 thousand likes so far and a telephone call from Queensland Police.
The politician had decided to participate in the wheeliebin frivolity with full force and gusto. She claimed in the meme / video that she rummaged through her wardrobe for over an hour. Declaring that she needed a character worthy of handling her waste and providing some serious facebook fun. The costume was a giant pink penis and testicles at her chins. It handled the waste and sure did cause some serious facebook fun.
She was fully encased in this huge phallic pink plastic bag like thing. Her head poked out at the head. Her stumbling gave the balls a life of their own. Peaking her head out from the head she snarled like a ravaged maiden on a viking raid while wheeling the wheeliebin in a very salacious manner. The blowback from this mixed signal, the half belly dancer, the half exotic dancer, with an erect male appendage was what now caused Horace some concern.
The video surprised every one, even the facebook censors who miraculously stamped the meme / video acceptable. Horace couldn’t believe this and typed so in his share. The “We Love our Local Politicians” group or “The Sunshine Church” on the Gold Coast didn’t like the popularity of this modern technology one bit.
It turned out that a grandchild of one member saw it, laughed a great deal and because her Granny lived on the Gold Coast, sent it to her. She told he so during one of their weekly telephone calls. Big mistake, as even though her kids had set her up, Granny had no idea of how to get onto facebook. She thought this sharing was a lovely gesture and asked her local Happy Clappy Pastor Mark Robertson to open it at Church during the third Sunday session. He did so on the three big screens for everyone to enjoy. Or at least that’s what he thought.
Well, the blood curdling screams from the normally deluded congregation were drowned out by the screams of everyone else. The church cleaners, the tithing collectors, the band, the production crew, all of the Tv personal and even a guy walking his dog past the open doorway at the factory the Church occupied.
The broadcast went live to the internet, free to air TV across Australia and steaming via Christian Television. The meme / video sprayed out like a panda’s wee against a tree, it went everywhere. Every outlet broadcasting the session was emblazoned with the plastic penis, the stripper like moves and the come here and roger me roger looks peaking out from the head. The local Tv news ran the story for days on air and on their facebook wall. The politician was struggling to answer the ferocious questioning.
The fact that the local politicians name was front and centre and Horace seemingly owned such a thing, well the reaction was on. The pastor called the Queensland Police, the Mayor, the Politician, (who’ll you’ll notice I haven’t named ) and anyone else that he thought could undo this travesty. Let’s start with Horace they all thought.
Horace wandered out into the garden, enjoyed the view, the butterflies and relished the even stronger smell of dog shit. Things could only get better he thought. There was knock on his door and Horace wondered who it might be.