"How do you edit Wikipedia?" my "fox" asked me as he huddled over his iPhone 6 in the Koru lounge at Brisbane airport. (He should have bought the iPhone 6 Plus. Rookie mistake.)
"Um," I replied. "I think ya just get in there and change it babe. I'm not sure. Weird question honey."
"Oh," he said, with a look of steely determination and concentrated fury in his eyes. He's left handed so he looked especially agitated. (I don't care what you say, it's true: Lefties are more passionate!)
"Honey, is it about me?" I asked softly and kindly. I knew it would be.
"Yes," he said now brimming over with a kind of pre-murderous rage. "I want to punch the little b*rstards teeth in!" He added. Steam was rising from his perfect silver head.
"Honey, I'm not sure how you fix it, but it doesn't matter. People get bitchy and vicious.
"We can't slay every dragon, babe!"
I looked at him with complete love and adoration. I had this vision of being on the front page of Spy, snapped leaving court after a dreadful incident with a boyfriend, a troll and me with an umbrella.
My man has wandered in to a world where I'm on display. Some people like me, even love me. Some people would like to howl at the moon, transition in to werewolves, and rip my throat out.
I don't care if people troll me, or b*tch about me, or add lies and vitriol on Wikipedia. I care that my man - who is a rough diamond but kind, intelligent and tough as a wolverine - wants to join Wikipedia so he can correct the mistakes and remove the trolling.
None of the trolling or b*tchy lies can come close to ruining the joy I feel knowing I have a knight in shining armour - dressed in jeans, a white t'shirt and tough boots, holding an IPhone 6. All you need in life is a squad: Three or four people who'll love, defend and, well, correct Wikipedia for you. There you have a perfectly-sized army of goodness. Even a squad of one is enough, when it's the right one.
This minor incident did make me ponder the whole internet information farce. How much on the internet is the truth? Clearly most tabloids can't be trusted, and "sources close to the person" can be made up rubbish. But can we trust anything we read as legitimate information?
I'm not suggesting the internet needs police, but what if 50 per cent of everything we're learning from it is wrong? If we read on Wikipedia that the earth was flat, how many people would believe it? There are people in a fringe conspiracy group that demand the earth is actually flat. Real people. People. Not just one idiot.
But I'm guilty of falling down the Wiki rabbit hole too. I have, on more than one occasion, read about a star then asked them stupid questions about "their love of the colour crimson". Or "their parents' recent trek to find a yeti". There are obviously people who sit at their computer and just add, subtract, and embellish everything they read on websites.
It's tempting though, isn't it? It's tempting to get on one of those sites and go to, say, Richie McCaw and add: "Richie got a standing ovation at The Founders Theatre in Hamilton when he played a delightful version of Tinker belle in a recent production of Peter Pan."
Don't do it. I repeat, "don't do it!" Oh and I'm pretty sure the world is round.