Pre-Emptive Fail: Jessica Watson

Now, listen sweetheart. I'm going to make this perfectly clear. I'm not heaping shit onto your little sailing playtime effort because you're a girl. Nor am I doing it because of your youth. I'm doing it because, quite clearly, you are an absolutely atrocious sailor who shouldn't be allowed to command the helm of a newspaper boat floating in an infants bathtub, let alone the ridiculous pink abomination that you call a "yacht".

Not only did you fail miserably before you even began the first attempt due to nothing else but clear blind stupidity on your behalf, but you failed to log a subsequent trip to Sydney with safety authorities.

Normally this is the kind of self-righteous teen angst that results in you not being allowed to go to Sally Sillybitches' totally bitchin' sweet sixteenth party, followed closely by the slamming of the bedroom door, and a wall of wailing tears muffled out by Pink's "Funhouse" album being played at 342 decibels through a poorly constructed Telefunken Mini Hi-Fi system.

In this instance, however, it's going to result in a crippled, capsized piece of floating timber about 1200kms off the coast of Tahiti, a ridiculous rescue bill and a very bruised ego.

And I, for one, will be more than happy to tell you "We told you so" upon your shameful return to dry land, you stupid little girl.

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