In this world of political correctness, Bradley Green asks what people are getting so offended about.

Ironically, I get quite worked up by the easily offended; so much so, all I can think to do is be more offensive. You know, really rub salt in the wounds. Everyone with a similar mindset would react the same no doubt. Some what counter productive for the ‘victims’.

I’m certainly not saying I’d go out of my way to annoy and upset people (depends who) – I’m no sociopath. It seems the world is probably just too grotesque and X-rated these days to be so delicate about things that could upset: “Now dear are you wrapped up enough? Perhaps an extra layer or two of cotton wool will do?” I just don’t buy it, there’s bigger fish to fry. A very recent example comes to mind involving the filming of the new Top Gear series. There is a scene in which a car is performing doughnuts near a very well known war memorial in London, the Cenotaph. This caused outrage amongst some people, because of disrespect etc. I realise this a memorial for fallen soldiers in what were two atrocious wars, yet it’s also in the centre of London on a busy street. It just seems a little hard to swallow in my opinion.

This may be a little bit biased, but I remember having a lovely time with a group of friends in a bar. We were drinking and being rather garrulous, no less than you would expect from said patrons. One of us then swore a common swear word, and a person turned around and said something along the lines of… “Can you not swear in front of my children?” Well, I was most perturbed and thus retorted with “Can you not bring your children into our pub?” Oh the offense that was taken! Yet were we wrong for being adults in which is most definitely an adult zone? My feelings are that they should have never brought the sprogs along in the first place, rather irresponsible I think, am I right? I don’t rock up to the nursery and turn Peppa Pig off to put on Debbie does Dallas, nor do I turn up to village meetings in a village in which I have no business to tell the locals which coloured bunting to hang for this year’s parade. Leave me and my pub alone!

It seems to get more and more ridiculous with each passing year, not forgetting this isn’t the 1890s and Mrs Bombadier’s uncovered ankle isn’t news, nor does it matter. This is the 21st century, and you can see just about as much as your stomach can handle with a click of a button or two. It is not an age of buttercups and liquorice sticks, it is an age of garbage television and celebrity nudes gone viral. Completely and utterly shameless nonsense. Whether you like it or not, it is here to stay, perhaps a sorry state of affairs, but reality nonetheless. I don’t condone people being generally vile and despicable (and there is a limit) but for the most part people aren’t trying to offend and upset, they’re just trying to enjoy life. Don’t go flashing your private parts at Mrs Smith next door, however don’t look over your shoulder when you get to the glorious punch line of your joke. Life’s too short. I think I’ve offended myself, time for an angry nap.