An argument.

I've a lot of shit to do today work wise. So bearing this in mind I got up rather early and took my complaining arse off to the gym for a run. It was ghastly and despite my best puce-faced effort I still have not mastered 10K in under one hour, close but no cigar.
No matter, gasping and heaving, I weaved back to the near empty changing rooms and had a long shower-lathering my hair not once but twice, bliss.
Upon heading back to my locker I heard what I thought to be raised voices. Strange, thought I, but I proceeded and when I finally reached my destination I could clearly hear a very vocal full blown argument coming from the row of lockers directly behind mine.
'I'm telling you, you always take her side. It's so ridiculous.'
'I'm not taking her side, but she didn't do anything wrong.'
'HE WAS MARRIED!!'
'They'd split up.'
'They were still married.'
'Oh please, they were separated.'
'So!, They could have waited. Would you like someone to do that to you?'
'No, but he wanted kids and she didn't. She LIED to him.'
'She said she did.'
'Well! If she said she did why didn't she have them.'
'Maybe she didn't realise she was on a fucking timer.'
'Or HELLO, maybe she just didn't want them.'
Yeah right, but that other bitch suddenly pops one out, even after she said all along she didn't want kids either.'
'PEOPLE CAN CHANGE THEIR MINDS YOU KNOW!'

And so on, I dried my toes and dressed as the battle raged, fascinated by what I was hearing. What lives other people live, so passionate, so soap opera-esque.
I slipped on my t-shirt and took my lock off the door. The argument was reaching it's apogee. The voices were shrill and cracking the language more verbose, until finally one of them yelled.
'LOOK Brad and Angie have fucking moved on right, maybe you should just let it go.'
'I HAVE let it go!' The other one replied, in a ohnoihaven't tone.' But I still think they're fucking scumbags!'
I slammed my locker door and reversed. I looked around the corner at two startled women, in their early twenties, still half in and half out of their street clothes.
'You're very loud.' I said. They glared at me. I hoisted my bag up onto my shoulder and walked towards the door.
I had just reached it when I heard.
'Who the FUCK does she think she is?'

Who indeed.

Mel Gibson, not nuts at all.

Just a tad highly strung.
From TMZ
"Gibson was speaking to a film class about his movies, and several members of the Mayan community came to hear the famous director.

After Gibson's presentation, the crowd was allowed to ask questions. Alicia Estrada, an Assistant Professor of Central American Studies at CSUN, challenged Gibson, asking him if he had read about the Mayan culture before shooting the controversial film. Gibson said he had. Estrada persisted, stating that representations in the movie that the Mayans engaged in sacrificial ceremonies and had bloodthirsty tendencies were both wrong and racist. Gibson then exploded in anger, responding, "Lady, F**k off." Gibson also became extremely angry when members of the Mayan community protested on how they were portrayed in the film. The emotional Mayan members were escorted out of the room, and we're told Gibson screamed a parting shot -- "Make your own movie!"

You know, Mel 'Suger Tits' Gibson amuses the hell out of me, but outbursts notwithstanding, he's probably right this time. It's a film, and films are not always known for being steeped in exact historical fact. I doubt the Spartans were really running around in little leather shorties, but damn it was good to see on screen. People need to stop apologising over shit all the time.
Make your own fucking movie indeed.