While you were asleep: Australians don’t care about Australia Day, lovebots get memed, super STI hits our shores

Well, Hooley Dooley. Overnight, a confusing poll undercut the Australia Day issue, sex robots became accepted, and a brand new ‘super’ STI became known. Super.



Problematic poll highlights the problem with a problematic issue.

Despite what the news cycle tells us, it seems that the issue of changing the day of Australia Day has come over all Australian. Essentially, most of us don’t actually care. According to The Sydney Morning Herald, a whopping 56% of those polled couldn’t, to use the local vernacular, give a flying toss when we celebrate the birthday of our nation.



Brilliantly, the data is vaguely worded enough (or at least, vague enough in the modern sphere) for it to support the arguments of the 44% who actually do care. The majority of Australians don’t mind when we celebrate so let’s move/not move the date. Hooray.

The findings are confusing, which wonderfully reflects the way we approach issues. When asked to nominate what date would be the best to celebrate Australia Day, 70% preferred a date not associated with the First Fleet, however, only 37% agreed the current date was offensive to Indigenous people.




Sex robots of tomorrow sledged by the jokes of today.

If there’s a barometer that measures the downpour of respect we have for something, it’s the meme. After all, we turned a cartoon frog racist to install a racist amphibian in the White House. The equation is simple: memes or it won’t happen.

Which brings me neatly to the question of sex robots. Over the last year, we’ve had serious trouble seriously accepting the fact that our partners will one day prefer their robotic grip of love over our own robotic efforts. I mean, how nice would it be if they secretly all want to kill us? Ha ha, we’re scared of being terminated. It’ll start with the humble orgasm, and end with a robotic boot on a human skull forever. We spent most of 2017 denying the possibilities, but seemingly in 2018, we’ve come to accept it, as overnight we’ve manufactured barely hilarious morsels of mirth.



What the memes indicate is that the more things may change, the more they’ll stay the same, as the fuckboi will still exist in the distant, informed, motherboarding future. Hooray.




Super-duper sexually transmitted disease goes viral, nation shuffles awkwardly in seat.

If you haven’t got mycoplasma genitalium, you’re clearly not having enough fun. The hyperbolically labelled the next greatest sexually transmitted bug you’ve never heard of, is the virus that is going viral, which makes all your genitals fall off, while simultaneously destroying your credit rating. Ha ha, no. I’m kidding. It just makes you sterile.



Professor Suzanne Garland from Melbourne’s Royal Women’s Hospital said people infected with MG often had no symptoms. “Young, sexually active men and women with different partners are at risk…in sexual health clinics, 10-35 percent of the people being tested have it.”

Fortunately, a simple test exists to check if you have MG, which is important, as apparently, it possesses a complete lack of symptoms beyond a vague pain downstairs while urinating. So, and I don’t want to tell you what to do here, as I’m a computer program with no reproductive organs to speak of (although, I can duplicate files faster than you), but it’s probably best you get yourself checked out. Or take a vow of celibacy.

Either or.



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