Brian Rogers Rogers Rabbits www.sunlive.co.nz

It's been a tumultuous week in the news, with the lovely Robyn Malcolm emerging as the sexiest drunk woman driver in New Zealand and the PC lunatics campaigning to ban children from cartwheeling and generally having fun.

We've also seen, on the 25th anniversary of the movie Dirty Dancing, the royal celebrating it in their own special way. Harry has launched his own internet version of the movie, cleverly deflecting blame for the production onto some innocent chick with a cellphone video.

The official photo of the whole family will be interesting this year. We only hope that the world is not subjected to Phillip feeling the need to bare all, especially the scans of his bladder infection.

I know last week we promised to entertain you with an uplifting story about reporting suicides. Clearly so many of you were too excited about that cheerful subject, so we've had to settle for the Beast of Blenheim instead. Our dogged deputy newsman Ben Guild delves into the suicide reporting issue at a later date.

Grammar gifts

This column today firstly takes a look at that huge dilemma that faces each of us at Father's Day: Where to place the apostrophe.

Father's Day is fast approaching and reminds us that a few years ago, we recommended that instead of socks, father might appreciate correct grammar. There ensued a great debate as to the correct placement of the grammatical detail, which continues to this day.

Whether the event is the celebration of one father or many, dictates whether the apostrophe goes before or after the S.

We've asked a few English language experts and they are divided on whether Father's (and Mother's for that matter) should be denoted as a mass celebration of all the fathers and mothers, or whether the day is a special one for individuals.

We feel that the English, being pedantic sods, should really have devised a grammatical way of expressing both at the same time. It would look something like this: Father's' Day.

Here at RR we believe this signifies that it is the Day belonging to each father individually, but celebrated jointly by a whole bunch of fathers simultaneously.

About now, fathers are probably very confused and thinking they'd rather have socks. At least they know where to put them, except for the few odd fathers who feel compelled each Father's Day, for reasons only known to themselves, their therapists and Mr Bean, to put them on their ears.

Our editorial team has put its collective foot down so elsewhere in this publication you will see the holiday expressed in terms of the collective: Fathers' Day. Here's hoping the rest of the world follows.

Beastly behaviour

The big news this week that has nauseated the entire country is the pending release of the Beast of Blenheim. The frequency of the topic has been as sickening as the case itself.

Fair enough that the people of Wanganui are upset to have this creep released into their region. However, the media beat-up has really been quite helpful, because at least now everyone knows what the blighter looks like.

And as one human rights lawyer pointed out this week, it's not as if the Beast runs around abducting young people at knife point.

His modus operandi was to befriend and then use his position of power to abuse victims that had become well-known to him. That power is well and truly depleted, thanks to the massive publicity campaign. This scumbag won't even be able to sneeze without someone knowing it.

Plus the minute he breaches even the most miniscule detail of his parole, he'll be back in the slammer before you can say 'filthy molester”.

Wanganui is trying to keep him out of the town, but since he has a conviction for bestiality, he's probably not safe in the country either. There will be a lot of nervous sheep on the hillsides around Wanganui, keeping a close look out over their shoulders.

Another do-goody psych expert tells us such offenders have a better chance of rehabilitation if they have social contact - which seems pretty remote for the Beast if he's confined to a house in the prison grounds.

It is not surprising that Wilson is a bit of a mess. His upbringing was atrocious. And all that time stuck on a deserted island with Tom Hanks can't have helped.

Here at RR, we have a solution. A Facebook page for the Beast. Assuming he's allowed to use the internet.
We can recommend some friends for him. Graeme Capill has some spare time. Probably several priests might share the same interests.

Shame Michael Jackson died, they could have shared all sorts of child activities.

We also wonder what the Beast might get on Sunday, assuming he has children and that they haven't disowned him. We know he's into modern bracelets, so here's one that might look good around his ankle.

But enough on the sudden allures of drink-driving and the horrors of royal genitalia, punctuation, paedophilia and bestiality – and on with another edition of The Weekend Sun.

This issue explores the brewing scrap over the safety and future of our rail network (pages 3 and 19), takes a look at the current state of Tauranga business (page 17) and also features all the usual columns and community news. Enjoy!