tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24618543676654945162024-02-20T01:43:20.303-08:00Observing the LoonsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-60884517137339573662013-06-30T06:18:00.000-07:002013-06-30T06:18:04.055-07:00<strong><u>No Longer Wanted</u></strong><br />
<br />
Blinded by my tears<br /> as i hang my head in shame<br /> i look around to hate someone<br /> but im the one to blame<br /><br /> The rage inside my body <br /> makes me edgy and full of fire<br /> my limbs shake and my teeth grind<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">as i watch my world expire<br /><br /> no one wants to see this<br /> its a demon, no ones friend<br /> it destroys everyone around you <br /> and brings your happiness to an end<br /><br /> No one wants you around anymore<br /> your input no longer required<br /> your 1250* and heart handed in<br /> for you my useless airman are medically retired<br />
<br />
*1250 is the old name for the RAF military ID card.<br />
<br />
<br /> </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-19377777015281099182013-06-22T09:05:00.000-07:002013-06-22T09:06:15.122-07:00Terminal Glory (poetry)<u><strong><span style="color: red;">***WARNING**** This piece of material contains references to suicide.</span></strong></u> <br />
<br />
<span lang="EN">Terminal Glory<br />
</span>
<br />
No one can help, no one understands,<br />
<br />
the damage he does with his very own hands.<br />
<br />
The self-torturing mind that destroys his soul;<br />
<br />
not staying alive another day is this soldiers only goal.<br />
<br />
<br />
This six-foot tall soldier, so outwardly strong,<br />
<br />
his friends see only what he show's; but how they are wrong.<br />
<br />
Coward he screams to the target at his front,<br />
<br />
his fists tightens as he punches the mirror, with a grunt.<br />
<br />
<br />
The blood drips off his hand, cut and bare,<br />
<br />
his reflection no longer but the judgement still there.<br />
<br />
Shards on the floor like a magnet to metal,<br />
<br />
he clutches them with need, this could be fatal.<br />
<br />
<br />
Free at last as he breathes his last air,<br />
<br />
as he guided it through his skin, the release was there.<br />
<br />
The soldier at rest, no more pain or torment,<br />
<br />
his brothers in arms bow their heads at his final lament.<br />
<br />
<br />
PTSD, the boffins labelled it well,<br />
<br />
he'd rather have been dead than to live in his hell.<br />
<br />
Disguised his pain with their shameful branding,<br />
<br />
what it showed, Doctor; is that you had no understanding.<br />
<br />
<br />
He wished he was the one butchered in the sand,<br />
<br />
to absorb the blast from the bastards in Helmand.<br />
<br />
His last bluey he claimed, "It should have been me."<br />
<br />
he didn’t need the laudable glory; just for someone to agree.<br />
<br />
<br />
The guilt he felt, he could breathe no longer,<br />
<br />
his time was borrowed, his need for justice got stronger.<br />
<br />
His cries often heard from high above in heaven,<br />
<br />
by those he left who loved him who had to carry on living.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-60753698549908116162013-05-04T01:21:00.001-07:002013-05-04T01:25:05.925-07:00The Silent Soldier<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="DE">The
Silent Soldier<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Once a six foot strong warrior, hero, a
fighter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Now a frail old man- three stone lighter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">His fire has cooled, his passion no more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">looks sixty-five, barely a day past forty-four.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">But the years have been tough since the start
of the war,</span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">tortured minds, broken men, the sights that he
saw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Three times he returned to that wretched place<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">and each time he came back, by the glory of
grace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">But the last time he lost his leg at the knee,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">wrong place, wrong time, damn IED.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Save this soldier, save his soul at best;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">that was the prayer he heard as he lay at rest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">It was the padre‘s words, as he read his last
right,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">this wasn't the end, he had one final fight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Against the odds placed against him to breathe
by himself,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">he never gave up, he fought to full health.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Being mobile at last, the recovery wasn’t too
long,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">he thought he had won his biggest battle, boy
was he wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">His greatest challenge was yet to be explored,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">the images and sounds in his head could no
longer be ignored.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">What he show's to the world is courage and
vigour,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">but on the inside he's destroyed, his tears
getting bigger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">The pain, the memories, the flashbacks and what
he dreams,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">are all part of who he is now, he can still
hear the screams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">The silent soldier too proud to talk about his
sorrow,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">he thinks time time alone is a healer, awaiting
another tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">Now he's left with shattered dreams and a
broken heart,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">no job, no home, no wife, no life or love to restart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">He stands upright, chest out, head high at the
memorial parade,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">to the world he looks proud, but inside,
abandoned and betrayed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">With his beret on his head and his medals on
his chest,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">feeling undervalued and a burden, not one of
the Queens best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">This is the reality of a never ending war,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">the lost limbs, scars and breaks are what we
see, but there's more;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">the pain on the inside the deep scars on the
heart that'll never heal,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE">just get worse over time, silently, that's the
biggest deal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="Standard" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="DE"><o:p>By Cpl Anonymous </o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-73563570750722094342012-09-27T03:28:00.003-07:002012-09-27T03:28:31.827-07:00Observing the Loons: The OAP of Today...<a href="http://observingtheloons.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-oap-of-today.html?spref=bl">Observing the Loons: The OAP of Today...</a>: Last month the Tabloids and Broadsheets alike feasted on the suggestion from Parliament that OAP’s could be means-tested before being automa...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-70225567131304967682012-09-27T03:28:00.001-07:002012-09-27T03:28:07.870-07:00Observing the Loons: Ennis for Big Brother?<a href="http://observingtheloons.blogspot.com/2012/08/ennis-for-big-brother.html?spref=bl">Observing the Loons: Ennis for Big Brother?</a>: A year has now passed and we’ve dealt with the aftermath of the riots which shook, shocked and held England to ransom which made us spectato...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-26942532691924341552012-09-27T03:27:00.003-07:002012-09-27T03:27:50.830-07:00Observing the Loons: Observing the Loons pt1<a href="http://observingtheloons.blogspot.com/2012/07/what-is-this-this-is-collection-of-my.html?spref=bl">Observing the Loons: Observing the Loons pt1</a>: What is this? This is a collection of my thoughts based on random peoples' everyday behaviour that make our headlines or people I have r...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-3235734515304464482012-09-27T03:27:00.001-07:002012-09-27T03:27:27.905-07:00Observing the Loons: Young man, stop slouching.<a href="http://observingtheloons.blogspot.com/2012/09/young-man-stop-slouching.html?spref=bl">Observing the Loons: Young man, stop slouching.</a>: My previous two blog’s have hopefully portrayed me as someone having patience and respect for the ‘youth of today’. Give them every chance I...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-26388014905593216522012-09-27T03:25:00.000-07:002012-09-27T03:26:27.783-07:00Young man, stop slouching.<span lang="EN">My previous two blog’s have hopefully portrayed me as someone having patience and respect for the ‘youth of today’. Give them every chance I say, nurture, develop and lead them towards a life of happiness and success. Guide them through hard work and promote being able to live alongside their fellow humans by having respect for others around them. You reap what you sew. But, this blog may make me look a little bit hypocritical as I am about to don my grumpy old woman with nothing-better-to-do-than-whinge head. I believe with good reason though.<br />
<br />
I have some advice for parents, no-one I know, but then none of my friends have rude children who don’t know how to conduct themselves correctly in a public place. Here we go and if you are offended then please accept my apologies but congratulations for being able to read- your children probably can’t.<br />
<br />
Educate your child on supermarket etiquette, simple mannerisms that are damn right wrong and what is quite simply unacceptable. Teach your child not to flatulate in the bread aisle in Tesco’s- it’s vulgar, extremely rude and it’s usually the same uncouth youngster ten minutes later at the patisserie counter with his hand down the front of his trousers playing with his adolescent, yet-to-develop-fully testicles. There doesn’t need to be a sign displayed informing customers to ensure that they are fully clothed when shopping- people should just know this. Just because the sun is breaking through the clouds it doesn’t make it acceptable to go shopping for your cider in a supermarket with no shirt on as it’s unlikely that you will get a suntan indoors and even less likely that people will ‘check you out’ and think ‘oh he’s well fit innit’. It is more likely that when you are farting and fondling down the front of your trousers topless, people will think, ‘what a tit!’ and may even shake their head in shame and think that the youth of today has gone to the dogs. I would suggest that a code of shopping etiquette is installed in our children as we have evolved quite well over the past 200,000 years from Neanderthal - people who were less educated with less luxuries and access to what is acceptable yet would probably have a more successful, less offensive shopping excursion than ‘Dazza’ (born in 1996). It quite frequently seems that when I go shopping to my local civilised supermarket it’s like a surreal dream that I’m an extra in a scene from the Chatsworth Estate or California Man?<br />
<br />
Teach your child that they don’t need to spit in-between each out of context expletive as they walk down the street past a primary school or church. Saliva is quite important, it keeps your mouth clean and aids in the digestion of your food, don’t take it for granted, plus it’s disgusting to see a pavement decorated with it. <br />
<br />
Now, everyone swears, even saint’s let slip the occasional ‘buggery bollocks’, which I presume means ‘shit’ to the rest of us, but continual out of context swearing that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever and is used just because someone has run out of suitable adjectives/nouns/verbs makes you sound a little bit stupid. I definitely agree there is some truth in the saying that suggests swearing is used by people who have a limited knowledge of vocabulary and that it seems that if people cant think of a suitable word they simply replace it with a swear word. In all fairness some of their chosen expletives have more syllables than the rest of their sentence so well done on that achievement. <br />
<br />
Ok, last gripe. It irritates me beyond explanation when ‘Dazza’ accidentally takes his Saxo/Corsa/other small-engined vehicle and mistakes it for a McClaren F1 and then confuses a cul-de-sac for a Formula 1 race track. It doesn’t matter how many go-faster stripes you plaster on it, it’ll forever remain a Saxo/Corsa/other small engined vehicle- just with lots of stupid stickers on it. Please teach your child that this kind of reckless behaviour is grossly unacceptable, stupid and very dangerous to the rest of us who know that it is just a cul-de-sac.<br />
<br />
So YOT, pull up your trousers so I’m not forced to look at your underwear, comb your hair and wash your mouth out. Learn something beneficial to society, you are the future role models- embrace this responsibility. I don’t mean that we should all be the same robotic types so be creative, individuality is great so don’t be afraid to be a salmon - swim upstream against the current. You don’t need to put a massive spoiler on your Punto to be cool, get a Reliant Robin instead. Now that is cool.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-75952197506763304472012-09-07T13:05:00.000-07:002012-09-07T13:12:30.687-07:00The OAP of Today...<span lang="EN">Last month the Tabloids and Broadsheets alike feasted on the suggestion from Parliament that OAP’s could be means-tested before being automatically given some benefits. Whilst newspapers speculated wildly and crucified the coalition I quite simply pondered on my experiences of OAP’s…..<br />
<br />
Before I begin I must ascertain that I have nothing against our elder generation of pensioners, in-fact I carry the greatest respect for our elder, senior members of society. My mum is older than me and I quite like her so that proves my point. I have two incredible grandparents both in their 90’s, both still the life and soul of any family gathering and both still capable of making me laugh at the top of my lungs. Often this isn’t their intention though. My slight issue that I have isn’t really with the ‘fighting generation’, the generation that took us through two World Wars and years of struggle in the aftermath to give us a Great Britain to be proud of. Who stood tall with their chests stuck out, shoulders back and heads held high and maintained that wonderful stiff upper lip of unswerving dignity. The wonderful story tellers of yesteryear, the fabulous elder-folk oozing with wisdom and experience and those who gave us our today need not defend yourselves- this isn’t about you, I simply adore you.<br />
<br />
My ‘beef’ is with the inbetweeners, the busybodies who think the world owes them something. In particular the ones who believe every young person is a yob, has no respect for anyone else, their property and is running this country into the ground. These people who demand respect but fail to give it to anyone else.<br />
<br />
I witnessed a man (not a gentleman, I use that term only for those who display gentlemanly like qualities) whom I would approximate to be about 55 years old, middle class at a guess, walk straight into a teenage boy. He straight away straddled his extremely high horse and accused the boy of walking into him and having no manners,<br />
<br />
“That’s the problem with the youth of today, they have absolutely no respect for their elders, you all need to learn some manners!”<br />
<br />
Well judgemental Sir, I for one applaud you, well done you for managing to stay alive until you’ve reached the grand age of 50, why should this unsuspecting teenage walker respect you? What, you’ve managed to not die? Well done, now p**s off and go and judge someone else, somewhere else. I can pretty much say with confident conviction that if the young lad mentioned anything about ‘the barger’s’ age or mature standing then he’d most likely be accused of being ageist. Lose/lose situation just because he was young and battered with the ‘youth of today’ stick. <br />
<br />
This is most probably the type of person who is least likely to adapt to change, unable to live alongside anyone slightly different to him. I imagine should a gay couple move in next door or someone with tattoos/different accent/children/cats/anything, he would most probably judge and curtain twitch and become obsessed about his awful neighbours before even saying hello. Yes Sir, great example of respecting your fellow human. My friend often falls victim to this sort of middle aged, middle classed-up-their-own-arse judgement.<br />
<br />
She has the most wonderful tattoo’s covering quite a lot of her body and this is the first thing people take notice of, quite rightly, they’re spectacular, wonderfully artistic that was probably her aim when she started decorating herself. These inbetweeners however, seem to think she’s a crazed criminal not to be associated with and for god sake watch your handbag dear! She hold’s doors open for people in shopping centre’s/supermarket/fluffy kitten centre for abused fluffy kittens and in return she gets glared at and given filthy looks. She is a wonderful mother, loving wife and war veteran and a great example of human benevolence. She is more than capable of living alongside other people whether they be old, young, gay, Polish and she does it without too much of an effort.<br />
<br />
So, artistic charismatic individuals, people with funny accents, the gays and ‘the youth of today’, keep your heads held high, continue to walk with pride because the narrow-minded, self important middle class buffoons need not matter, for if the ‘important’ members of society are unable to live alongside you then that’s their problem. And ‘the youth of today’ enjoy your youth as one day you will be running the country, keeping us alive, engineering engineer-y things, sending people to Venus and finding a cure for middle classed, judgemental whinging old bats.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-448900410040809382012-08-15T08:16:00.001-07:002012-08-15T08:22:23.805-07:00Ennis for Big Brother?<span lang="EN">A year has now passed and we’ve dealt with the aftermath of the riots which shook, shocked and held England to ransom which made us spectators of the most abhorrent, nonsensical and deplorable behaviour by thugs- cowardly, selfish, imbecilic morons. They thrust us as a nation onto the world media and portrayed a very broken Britain. These putrid creatures have no shame, but don’t for a second World define us by this disgusting display of so-called anarchy. Instead judge us on our latest contribution to the World- The Olympics, the show, the athletes and Great British hospitality. We welcomed our foreign neighbours from all over the World into our country and done more that light a torch, we’ve set the world on fire (metaphorically, not literally like the social outcasts and degenerates did last year to our finest city’s). We’ve demonstrated to the world and to ourselves that we still do have pride in our wonderful nation and we can stand united and feel heart-warmingly valiant when celebrating our wealth of success. <br />
<br />
It wasn’t just in the Velodrome, Olympic Park, Greenwich and other Olympic venues that we stood together. In each and every home we cheered, screamed and cried; we Tweeted, Facebooked about our pride and our gratitude to these Olympic actors who became wonderful ambassadors for their country. This was their finest hours and we were very much apart of it, and we revelled.<br />
<br />
The Olympic show that our awe-inspiring young men and woman (or old men and woman in Equestrian) have performed, displaying to a new generation of children what anyone, irrespective of background or social class can achieve with hard work, commitment, dedication and passion. This was the ultimate reality TV show. These are the celebrities of the now, tomorrow and hopefully the real inspiration to arouse a new generation of great British people. This is pride, not the dumb 15 minute celebrity culture we have been assaulted with over the past ten years. There wasn‘t a WAG in sight, just Ennis, Grainger, Trott to name but a few and there were no fake boobs, nails, hair or personality, just that aforementioned hard work, commitment, dedication and passion. These actors learned the lines we wanted to hear and they performed them with eloquence and decorum, becoming the role models we crave, to reignite a wonderful society that once claimed the worlds greatest innovators, scientists, leaders and those other influential faces who formed out distinguished history.<br />
<br />
So from now on we need to make a pact, a promise to our children. When the next seven year old tells you she wants to be a glamour model or an ‘actress’ on The Only Way Is Essex or a Big Brother contestant, correct them, guide them, nurture them and develop their dreams into something that isn’t related to instantaneous ‘fame’. They will be forgotten, berated and despised by the common man. The Chris Hoy’s, William Wilberforce and Joanne Rowling’s of our future may now be a reality.<br />
<br />
However, to the prophets of doom out there, don’t despair about all of this new found morale, crime figures relating to the Games will no doubt be published in one of our major tabloids in the near future. They will once again attempt to fill us with an imminent fear or moral panic with their headlines of ruin/destruction. We will once again be back to blaming everything on the immigrants and when they do just remember the last immigrant who dominated our headlines, Mohammed Farah of Somalia.<br />
<br />
Rule Britannia and all (who can be bothered) to serve her. Well, this week anyway.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2461854367665494516.post-7465218583579470072012-07-04T04:47:00.001-07:002012-07-07T03:52:46.263-07:00Observing the Loons pt1<span lang="EN">What is this?<br />
<br />
This is a collection of my thoughts based on random peoples' everyday behaviour that make our headlines or people I have randomly observed in my day to day survival who quite simply make me, 1- laugh, 2- criticise, 3- angry. I am absolutely astonished by how ‘normal’ people act as they go about their everyday business or someone else's. People are strange and I reserve my right to pass judgement/mock/use as an example of how not to live.<br />
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Generally my observational comments that derive from my thoughts aren't always very nice and innocent virgin eyes or those people with daisy chains permanently worn around their necks will probably find me quite rude. Frank I say. I pick on vulnerable people and their deepest insecurities. My question now is what makes people ‘vulnerable’and who presents that label? Normal people.<br />
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Normal people seem to walk about without <span style="color: black;">proper conduct</span><span style="color: black;"><span id="hotword">, no manners</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span id="hotword">, lacking in decent <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">moral</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">code,</span></span><span id="hotword"> weak <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #333333; cursor: default;">principles</span><span id="hotword" name="hotword">,</span></span><span id="hotword"> rectitude</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span id="hotword"> and standards<span style="color: #333333;">.</span></span><span id="hotword"> W</span>ithout shame and pride</span>, they have no idea of how their behaviour can cause me so much laughter! For that I thank you.<br />
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I don’t proclaim for one second to be anything other than normal. I strive for success, the best, to perform at the top of my game and generally achieve about 10% of that. I love my family, my expensive home, fast car and all the other pathetic material possessions that make us lose track of what's important in life. There are some complete morons out there though and we can all sit for a maximum of two seconds and come up with a complete retard that we know….. No, its most probably you then.<br />
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My slant on life isn’t purely aimed at individual morons. Collective morons make good victims of abuse too as well as institutions and in particular, those exempt from common courtesy and those who insist upon us wearing high viz vests to cross a road! The high viz vest police should be replaced by the common sense police, there should be a group of people going through life giving people a slap on the head/punch in the face every time someone falls over in the street and tries to blame someone else- your parents taught you how to walk, clearly they did a shit job- sue them for not teaching you how to correctly place one foot in front of other whilst staying vertical! Accept the fact that sometimes you may need to coordinate your eyes to work in conjunction with your feet to ensure you step over any obstacles that may cause your walking exercise to fail. Small example of why we need a common sense police. The high viz society would blame said fall on incorrect wearing of ear defenders and lack of high visibility clothing! Common sense v’s moronic policies, sorry people common sense prevails for me every time. Maybe as a compromise we can invent a ‘walking class’ for those who disagree, teach them how to walk by breaking it down into easy steps, just a thought.<br />
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Embrace who you are, integrity is far more important that being socially accepted by every single group, being excluded is often quite fun, standing on the outside laughing at those on the inside is great, liberating, although don’t stand too far out as there's probably a fine line between being independent and being a complete social outcast, before you know it you’re a loner who </span><span lang="EN-GB">lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience continually developing</span><span lang="EN"> sociopathic desires without even realising it. Whilst commentating on others I frequently feel the need to reel myself back to thoughts that are socially accepted otherwise I fear I may end up as described in the last paragraph. Especially at work, there really are some ‘characters’ there.</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11813651008950459796noreply@blogger.com1