While you were asleep: Internet celebrates Harambe (again), Longbottom off the market, Tomic serves dour journalists

Well, it’s morning. Hoorah. Overnight, we exhumed the corpse of Harambe, the Potterverse’s most attractive dweeb was married off and Bernard Tomic returns serve. 

 

 

The internet celebrates two years since the death (and rebirth) of Harambe. Please stop.

Today marks an important day. One where we’d be able to ascertain exactly when the internet drank bleach and hid up a tree, refusing to come down. Two years previous, that fucking Gorilla was enshrined and elevated into the ruling Jesus figure of backward internet humour. Thy lord is Harambe. 2016 was a long year. Everyone died, a ship wasn’t named what we wanted it to be named, and generations were forever split by the husk of an Avocado.

 

It made no sense, and it was a joke that was instantly tired. To prove how deep our stupidity went, we carved great odes to a Gorilla that, let’s not forget, almost killed someone. So, today, I say we look back, but only to learn from our mistakes, and please lord Harambe Jesus, stay away from the antique memes.

 

 

Stop writing Neville Longbottom lurid mash notes, as his wife will be very upset.

Some actors are lucky enough to be instantly recognisable for one thing. Example: Al Pacino is properly crazy, Cate Blanchett will forever never be part of this planet, and Ashton Kutcher will always be dim. However, there is a new member of the typecast club, as Matthew Lewis (otherwise known as Nevile Longbottom) entered the galaxy of stars, forever enshrined as the boy who became unexpectedly hot, but because he’s Neville, you might have a shot. Sadly, no. Because he’s off the market.

 

 

Yes, stop all the clocks, let the mourners come, et cetera. Despite the depth of our fancy, it seems that the unison undercurrent of lurid fanfic didn’t reach his heart as we hoped it would.

 

 

 

 

Tomic crashes out of French Open, gives a series of short answers.

It must be rather difficult being a sportsman. Especially Bernard Tomic. Yes, we might deride him for wasting his talent and being a nob in the process, but I’d imagine losing, and then having to explain why you lost, and indeed facing the same questions from the same ghouls in the press gallery who are going to twist what you say regardless, and in turn, further embolden the public against you would get tiring. In fact, you’d probably give a series of nonplussed answers until they let you go.

Last night, Tomic again faced his situation after exiting the French Open in the first round.

 

 

You know what, Bernard? Well done. If they’re going to ask the same questions, give them shorter answers until they stop asking.

I would.

 

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