I Do Understand I Just Don't Care

Don't worry the weemen will be ok.

I was just thinking the other day that I may not be as self-aware and sensitive as I should be, this is no longer the 19th century, people don't charge into war with a leg hanging off or continue selling blankets to the injuns even when they are sick with smallpox.

Oh no now a paper cut or the cold has you off work and saying the words I'm dying with the [insert malady here] I was once a psychiatrist on a TV show once, it was on for long, just after Donahue.

It was the Dr Knudsen show where I would hear people whine about their pathetic lives, my catch lines were "snap out of it" or "pull yerself up by the boot straps" strange my show got canceled after only 3 episodes.

Like I say some people aren't ready for the truth, if Lucifer went up to God now and said, "you know god those monkeys with souls are tossers, we angels are far better than them" God might be ready to listen instead of giving him the Hell branch of hell otherwise known as the complaints department , you may know Hell by other names such as Wal-Mart, Sears or even KFC.

I joined the army at 16, so I support child soldiers, I don't give a fuck if it isn't a trendy thing to do but not all kids want to be cashiers or doctors. Look above you, diversity in action, a Yank and a Russian weapon fighting side by side. Children are indeed our future.

I commented on another blog about how I asked a bloke how his wife was, he said she had died and they buried her the day before. I told this dooner fella that I just asked a question and I didn't want his life story.

Hey look who it is...................... 'Yer Ma'.

He begrudgingly invited me round for a few drinks cos he hadn't invited me to the wake, he sat their all mopey and wouldn't even get up when I put on some techno, what a sad sack.


Soldiers don't just point their weapons at you because they are cunts, no they are looking doon their sights at you or if it was like me I was a cunt without a scope and would point the weapon and finger the trigger while the rifle was on safety as an OCD thing and also I was gagging to shoot people, I didn't say I was a good soldier........... define good.

He started to look through his photo album with tears in his eyes I don't know what was wrong with the fella, he flew off the handle when I commented on how hot his wife used to be in the pictures and how come she ended up so fat? I had the deck the wanker to put him in his place and I took my drink elsewhere.

You try to cheer people up and all you get is agro.

I say to people, "look I'm an alcoholic, prescription drug dependant, who suffers from depression (which is why I don't read yer blog) with a metal plate in me head, one leg a huge penis and suicidal tendencies oh and I have a blog and you don't see me complain."

People are way too soft, can't go out its raining, can't go to school cos I'm a sex offender, can't think of anything to blog about, can't kill Slavs and Blacks because its wrong, can't read Old Knudsen incase I see something nasty, can't cook food because the microwave is broken.

I walked *ten miles to school* and back everyday, backwards and over Glass shard mountain in bare feet carrying a bag of rocks which was my lunch then I'd do a 28 hour shift doon pit for a thrupp-nee bit a month or a beating you just never knew and you know what? I was grateful cos it could have been worse .

*The school was only 3 doors doon but the walk gave me character or so my father said*


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