huh... so. This is what it's come too?

Healthy.
Intelligent.
(amazingly intelligent!)
Still able to learn.
Still willing to work.
Still good looking ;-)
Much to give.
Much to learn.
Ask for very little in return.
Wants to stand.
Needs hand UP.
NOT hand-out.
Falls....
Left behind.
Ignored.
Spit on.
Stepped on.
Pissed on.
Pointed at by lesser people.
Cold.
Hungry.
Tired.
Despondant.
Dirty.
Do you know me? (would you dare?)
Can you hear me? (would you dare listen?)
Can you see me? (would you dare look?)
No.
But, I am right here.
At your feet.
But you can't see me.
You can't see past your new shoes. (I have none. or didn't you notice?)
Can you hear me?
Or is your ipod to loud?
You can buy toys.
You can ignore a fellow human in need.
God is watching.
You don't care.
You think this is it.
As long as you get yours, God will forgive you.
He won't.
But I will.
You still don't care.
I am still here.
Cold.
Tired.
Hungry.
Despondant.
Dirty.
Still willing to work.
Still able to learn.
Still.......



at your feet.

"You can Be Anything You Want To Be"... the myth.

    Growing up in America, I was always told and always heard that saying:

"You can be or do anything you want. You just have to go out and work for it."

     When I was young,I believed it. Hell, when we're young, we believe everything the world tell us.

But,I had to think,as a child, why were my parents telling me this, yet, they never followed in suit?

Why didn't my parents, or anyones parents, for that matter, do what they wanted? Surely, leading by example is always the best way, right?

     When I hit high school, I started to think what a load of garbage that statement is.

It happened when a kid came in to talk to one of the sports coaches about joining the wresting team. The problem was, he only had one arm and one leg. The truth of the matter was, even though he had heart, there was no chance of him joining the team. He would never be able to hold his own against the bigger guys and,for the ones who did give him a chance,they would hold back. I watched as he was passed on to every coach who was afraid to speak the truth.

    That was the first time I questioned that statement. The one whose words came from every person,adult-wise,I had ever trusted. All kids are told that in america. 

"If you are honest, hard working and have faith, you can achieve anything you want".

Sounds good,doesn't it?

   When it finally hit home with me was when I decided I wanted to fly jets for the military.

As a teenager, I went to an officers recruiting office, for the USMC, before joining university. I wanted to know what was the best course of action for me to take to achieve the goal I knew I could because I believed. In the meeting,we all had a good laugh and I was really getting into the mood.

When I was asked if I had ever experimented with any drugs, I remembered what I was told about being honest. So, I said YES.  That is when the whole mood of the office changed.

I knew right then, I was fucked. Even though I had been clean for over a year, I was told I could never join ANY flight program because I had tried ANY type of drugs. It made no difference how long I had been clean, my chances were gone. I was beyond gutted. I was in tears on the way home.

     I figured,at that point,why go to college?  There absolutely nothing I wanted to do, except fly.  After a while, I decided to check out the Navy because, my second choice was special forces and,if I was going to do that, I might as well go for the best; SEALS.

    I spoke to a recruiter, joined the Delayed Entry Program and 10 months into it, I found out I couldn't be a SEAL, or ANTY special forces for that matter, because I had to wear glasses.

Just a little bit of info my recruiter "forgot" to mention. But I knew enough about the military that I could get out of my contract. So,I did.

    The next chapter was when I found I could be a chopper pilot in the Army AND wear glasses.

I was in heaven! I did all the steps to go to flight school,which I found, there was 2 ways; Warrant Officers Candidate School,which requires no college, BUT, you must have 20/20 vision and then there's OCS,which does require college and your vision can be up to 20/50 as long as it can correctable to 20/20 with glasses. I knew I was in!

   I had my vision checked,I was at 20/30 and good to go!  

Or so I thought. By the time I was finished,several months later, my vision was 20/80. Nice.

 Eventually, I did enlist. What a joke that turned out to be.

    Most of my life, I did "what I wanted". I traveled. I had experiences that most people only see in movies or read in books. I have been places people have never even heard of,even in their own country.  My life has been quite amazing. I have collected quite a few stories and learned many lessons about life. I have become incredibly intelligent and a quite a competent sage to many. I have many friends who have lived their lives through me, only because I have had the courage to "do what I wanted".

    I remember being a little kid in elementary school watching a tv show called Inside Out.

It was an educational show that was shown on PBS. One day, in particular, we were watching the show, but, I ended up watching everyone around me, as they watched the tv.

  After we returned to our own class, we had a Q&A time about the show. Only this time, my teacher focused in on me, because she saw me watching everyone else. She asked why.

I told her it was because I heard a lot of "I wish..." going on and I got to wonder; why wish?

Just do it or go there. What was the problem?

    So, as time went on, I stopped wishing and started doing because it was confirmed that I could.

    Now, back to the present. No one told me there was a price to pay for "doing what you want".

That price is a HEAVY price to pay!  At least, in most cases. When you hear about these so called "successes", from people who "did it their way" is one of two things, they did it by playing by certain rules, which no one tells you about until it's too late, or just by sheer luck. Nothing else.

    My best friend in the world, has a great life. He has the "american dream."

Which is the wife,child, 2 cars, a great job and a house. He is going to have a great retirement.

He got all this by playing by the rules. He has paid his dues,paid his taxes, paid his insurance, gone to college and he had a good start in life.

    BUT, he hasn't led the life of adventure, as I have. I have traveled, so has he,but under different circumstances, I have been in bar fights,stabbed,shot at, hob-nobbed with movie stars, partied on house boats in london, done really unbelievable things, compared to him.

That's only because he chose "the right path" and I chose "adventure and fun."

 Hey, I did what I was told I could do :)

    The price people like us have to pay: He gets a nice home and a retirement.

I get to spend the rest of my days homeless and living on the streets. A home of weather exposure and beds of concrete are my retirement benefits.

    You see, the whole american dream of "you can be or do whatever you want is a total lie.

Unless the things you want to do or be is actually up to someone else. If you don't "appease those that be", in the right time line, you get nothing when you are ready to appease on your own timeline. They want theirs first,screw you.

  The biggest fuck you is not paying your taxes. Man, you are SO screwed if you don't do that!

In my case, I never paid because doing "what I wanted" would have interfered in that. Not being a greedy bastard, I just didn't want to look at my kids and tell them dad is a miserable bastard because he wanted to see the world and working in a factory, to pay your taxes, would prevent it. So, dad opted to see the world. He wasn't born with money, so he couldn't just up and go when he wanted, he had to take the chances as they arose.

     The price for that? No kids.

I found, if you keep traveling and have no money to fall back on, you keep traveling just to find your next meal. It is a massively lonely,yet, entertaining life, because everyone wants to hear your stories of adventure and experiences,but no one wants to help out with money,even though you are willing to work. Some of us, actually, a LOT of us, only want a hand up, not a hand out. 

     In the real world, you MUST have money. You MUST sacrifice freedom. Your "taxes" go to for some other dick head to go on YOUR adventures. What is the point of working your ass off for 40 years, take a"vacation" for 2 weeks out of each of those years, just to be too old to enjoy adventures when you retire? Why can't you do it the other way around? Or compromise?

    Have fun til your 40, THEN go to school!  Because we are conditioned to KNOW, 40 is way past the starting age of getting a life together. People over 40 can't possibly be any good as a newbie,can they? I have had several people tell me that it is not possible for employers to "get enough out" of a person who is "too old". I.e; you can't get enough taxes from "old people".

    On the other hand, spending your life doing "what you want" and not joining the military or going to college or working in a factory causes you to miss out what I call the "3rd party verification". Meaning, no matter how smart you are, or how capable you are, or even willing, unless you have a diploma, or work record, or something from a 3rd party, which you must give all your money to, to verify you CAN do these things you claim, no one will even consider taking a chance on you.

     Yes, granted, some people do get lucky. But, in reality, they are only about a 1/10 of 1%, at most.

 But, in reality, people who live their own lives and don't follow the "herd", they are entitled to nothing but final days of misery.  As I said before, no wants to give a hand UP, they don't even want to kick you while you're down. They just want to leave you and ignore, yet, they will revile in YOUR stories of adventure. 

   You won't be entitled to relationships,work opportunities, a roof over your head. All because people do believe, if you are a "loser" now, today, you will ALWAYS be that way. 

Some people people think you only deserve ONE chance in life. Some may need more. Many more. But, the time will come, if given the chance. Or chances. For most, EACH chance is a learning experience and with each "failed" chance, some still walk away with something new.

It will all add up.

So, the myth of the "american dream" is just that. A MYTH.

You cannot do what YOU want, you can only do what "they" will let you do.

And "THEY" .... is a mother fucker!

  

     

One family....

Great Granpa fought in WWI

Granpa fought in WWII

Dad's uncle fought in Korea

Dad fought in Vietnam

I fought in Panama and places you've never heard of.

My son fights in  Iraq

My grandson asked me if he will fight in a war.

Will he?

Robin pt.1

   "HEY!"........ "WAKE UP!"....... was the first thing I heard before I opened my eyes.

Then I heard something click beside my head. Something like a rock landing beside me and bouncing into  grass.

   When I finally got around to opening my eyes,the first thing I heard was the internal screaming of a voice in my head as the bright ass sun light burned a searing hole through my retinas.

Obviously,I had been drunk sometime in the recent past. Or should I say "sober" for one of the few times in god knows how long.

    "HEY!"...... "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BACK YARD?!". I didn't answer. This time the rock,or whatever they were,was a little too close for comfort. With the hangover,it was more like Thor's hammer being repeatedly thrown at me. And I think it made contact more than once.

    Once my vision had returned,what a fucking painful experience THAT was, I looked around and couldn't see anyone. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BACK YARD?!". Where the fuck was this voice coming from? I knew I was hallucinating,but the voice in my head was never female.

   "ARE YOU GOING TO ANSWER ME?!" 'WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?',I said.

"I OWN THE SIDEWALK YOU ARE LAYING ON." Sidewalk? "WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"  Now, I am splitting my own head apart with the yelling to this phantom voice.

    "UP HERE!" Oh god,now I have to look up at the sun again. I am in hell and I am NOT going to die. As I force my head to wonder upwards along the side of this house,I see a cute female with dirty blonde hair looking at me. As I looked around and got my bearings,I finally realized.....I had no fucking idea where I was or how I got there!

   As I looked at her,I told her I had no idea how got in her back yard. Then she asked me my name. I told her I didn't know that either. And I wasn't lying at this point.

  Then she disappeared from the window. I thought I had really been hallucinating now.

Suddenly,she appeared at her back door,just smiling and looking at the new toy she just found in her back yard. She asked me if I was ok or if I needed any help. I asked her if she had a beer.

Right then,I heard the sound of a beer being opened(a truly seasoned drinker can tell that sound a mile away!) and I looked down and I saw a beer magically appear before me!

I liked her backyard! Then I realized it was my best friend(at the time) Tracy. I was wondering how the fuck he got to where ever in the hell it was we were.

    I looked back at this female who had gone inside and got a beer from her fridge and she was just standing there looking at me. Then I saw .... them!  She had some of the biggest and finest boobs god had ever graced a woman with! She had dirty blonde hair with beautiful lips,a perfect smile,THE boobs, covered by this olive green tank-top and a pair of cut off jean shorts with very nice legs and the cutest toes you could imagine(I hate ugly feet on any woman).

     Tracy stood there looking at me,looking at her,and then he just blurted out:"SPEAK STUPID!" Without missing a beat,I asked her what her name was. She said her name was Dana.

I said,very quietly and with a slight smile....Dana... She was just too lovely.

    Then I asked Tracy,"where the fuck are we? How the fuck did we get here and WHY the fuck are we here?!"

    As he explained it, we were on one of our MANY days on end drinking benders and he decided he wanted to find a fem named Melissa. But,we couldn't find her house. We just had an idea. Actually,I should say HE.... I remembered fuck all.

     BUT,as luck would have it, Dana,this ravishing creature,was Melissa's best friend and lived 2 doors down from her. Dana said she had just come home from school and found me in her back yard. I guess I crawled out of the car(we never established who drove there) and just went over to her yard and passed out. As you do ;-)

     Tracy was pointed to the right house and off he went. He found Melissa. When they came back,about 15 minutes later,I was sitting on Dana's back steps in the shade, between Dana's legs and she had a cold towel on my head and was trying to help me through this hangover. Which only required more beer. Dana had the smoothest legs :)

    Melissa walked up and gave me a kiss. I had introduced Melissa and Tracy a while back. I used to date Melissa's sister,Chelley. That's another story.

     We went into Dana"s house,where she had AC...(God bless the almighty AC!!!) and I just

laid on her shag carpet,which was nice and cool,while Tracy and Melissa did some catching up

and dana kept rubbing this cold towel on my back and neck. She was lovely.

     I guess I went back to sleep because I remember there being a bit of a ruckus when Tracy walked over when he was ready to go and tried to kick me in the head to wake up and,apparently,Dana didn't like his choice of methods,so,she punched him in the nuts.

I really liked Dana :D.

   I managed to get up,after about an hour,and said my good-byes to Melissa and Dana.

And those beautiful tits and those CUTE little toes. 

    Somewhere along the way,Melissa stopped by my apartment to see tracy and dropped off Dana's Number for me. I gave her a ring and went back to see her. We became really good friends for quite some time. We never did the deed,BUT,I did get to see them boobies!

A lot! But,we just hung out and were like best friends. She would give me back rubs and I would give her foot massages. Of which I am damn good ;-)

     We became drinking buddies and great cocaine buddies. We always hung out and if we ran into each other somewhere,we always ended up together,just sitting and talking.

Yes,in our circles,I even defended her honor on more than one occasion,but,alas,I never got the Hero Pussy. And that was ok.

     I had a motorcycle at the time and I was known to just take off for ride into the great unknown. Unknown as to where I was going,unknown to how long I would be gone and apparently,unknown to the people who knew me as to when I left and when I would return. I was good for that :)

    On this one occasion,I said I was going on a munchy run and I returned about 4 months later. BUT,I returned with munchies!

     Tracy had got a job for a store called Meijers. He worked 3rd shift grocery stock. He stocked the cereal aisle. He got me a job there,too. I worked 2nd shift produce section.

     It worked out ok for us. We shared an apartment and a hot fem named Jamey Conrad.

She had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of and get change back!

      I used to go in at 4-pm and work until 12:30-am. I went to lunch at 8-pm.

Jamey worked until 6-pm and would go to my place and hangout until I got off work. But,while she was there,her and Tracy would have there little "fun",then I would show up for lunch and pick up Tracy. Then,he would drive me back to work and keep my car so he could get to work at 11-pm. Of course,he always had a joint rolled for me when I picked him up. Then,he would show up to work at 11-pm,I got off at 12:30-am, and would go  home and would "un-wind" with jamey. Tracy would come home at 7-am and he would jump jamey before she went to school and we would start the day all over again! I have no idea how that girl stayed awake long enough to graduate.

I remember being impatient at work one night and just dragged her into the produce cooler and we..... counted plums together right next to the grapes :D

     While I was working one night,I saw Dana walk by. We had no idea the other worked there and she had just been transfered to 2nd shift! I got my play buddy back! We proceeded to have a blast! With her,Tracy and myself,we brought that store to life!! People loved us because we broke all the rules,yet did a great job at making sure the store ran right.

      One night,all three of us were in the employee break room just talking and discussing...... grapes and plums :D.

       This time,Dana had a new girl who started that night and was working the children's section with her. This new girls name was Robin. She had blonde hair(No,I do NOT have a thing for blondes!),big red lips and beautiful green eyes. She weighed 118lbs(I'll tell you why I know this exact number later) and had a very decent little body on her. Of course, I did consider her a conquest. I did make my rounds in those days,I must say. But she was quiet. There was something very different about this one,yet very intriguing. 

     All 4 of us,Tracy,Dana,Robin and myself were in the store cafeteria eating lunch one day and Robin asked how Dana and I had met. Dana and I looked at each other and she turned to Robin and said "I found him in my back yard and I decided to keep him". I said that was the truth.

And,it actually was.

      At this time in my life,I had no problems asking women out. Hell,it was easier asking them for sex! But,I wanted to go out with Robin. So,I hatched a plan to ask her out in a very unique way. She was working in the children's clothing section,which was just across from the grocery section. I could see everything she did. No matter what she did,no matter how hard the work or customers got,she always seemed to have this little smile. She was very sheepish.

 She always had this little trait, which I loved to watch for some reason; when her bangs would fall down onto her forehead,she would always blow them out of the way. She rarely moved them with her hands,she would tuck her top lip in,stick out her bottom lip slightly and blow.

She made it look so cute.

    On this particular night,I rang her up on the store phone and stood there and watched her as she picked up the phone. I asked for Dana,knowing full well Dana wasn't working.

She said Dana wasn't working and asked if she could take a message. I said to her "could you tell Dana I want to talk to her about asking out a friend of hers,but I don't know her name. I know she has blonde hair,the truest ruby red lips,ice green eyes and she is wearing jeans and a green t-shirt under her work smock and  white reeboks. Could please give all that to Dana and ask her to contact me because I think this woman is amazingly beautiful and I am scared to death of being turned down by her." She said no problem and we hung up.

I stood and watched and I saw the exact moment she realized I had told her what she was wearing and figured out it was her I was meaning. Yeah, she was blonde :)

     

     

something I like ;-)

(She found him there on the floor,
his lifeless hand covering the poem....)

So now little man, you've grown tired of grass
L. S. D., goofballs, cocaine and hash,
And someone pretending to be a true friend
Said, "I'll introduce you to Miss Heroin."

Well, honey, before you start fooling with me
Just let me inform you of how it will be
For I will seduce you and make you my slave.
I've sent men much stronger than you to their graves.

You think you could never become a disgrace
And end up addicted to poppy seed waste.
So you'll start inhaling me one afternoon;
You'll take me into your arms very soon.

And once I have entered deep down in your veins
The craving will nearly drive you insane.
You'll need lots of money (as you have been told)
For, darling, I'm much more expensive than gold.

You'll swindle your mother; and just for a buck
You'll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You'll mug and you'll steal for my narcotic charm
And feel contentment when I'm in your arm.

The day when you realize the monster you've grown,
You'll solemnly promise to leave me alone
If you think that you've got the mystical knack,
Then, sweetie, just try getting me off of your back.

The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots,
The jangling nerves screaming for just one more shot.
The chills and cold sweat, the withdrawal pains
Can only be saved by my little white grains.

There's no other way, and there's no need to look,
For deep down inside, you will know you are hooked.
You desperately run to the pusher and then
You'll welcome me back to your arm once again.

And when you return (just as I foretold)
I know you will give me your body and soul.
You'll give me your morals, your conscience, your heart,
And you will be mine until

death do us part.

An American in London

   I have been in the UK for almost 10 years and in London for almost 5 of those 10 years.

I have lived in many other places in the UK,and I must say,London is the 2nd worse place I have ever lived here. 2 places actually tie for 1st.

  London is a really fucked up place,at best. I view it as the most arrogant 3rd world country on the planet. London has been voted the dirtiest city in europe for the last 3 years straight.

BUT, it has been voted the best city for night life in europe! How does that work?!

   Do people like to party in dirt and shit? Are they "slumming it"?! I know of entire neighborhoods in london that literally have nothing but the smell of piss in the breeze.

People actually want to pay money to come to a place like this?!

    All countries are full of self-imposed ignorant foreskins(you know,the useless part of a dick),but UK politicians take the cake. They brag about how London is a multi-cultural city. It is that,indeed.

   The problem is,they let in every scum-bag piece of shit,just so they can claim that title,and the politicians are proud of this fact. Now, to be fair,you don't get a passport saying "I am a scumbag piece of shit". So,naturally, they do get in. BUT,once they establish themselves as a scumbag piece if shit and are known to the police,some "human rights" group hollars that  is their "human right" to be a scumbag piece of shit and you dare not to deport them,or in most cases,arrest them and give more than a slap on the wrist.

    There are terrorists,pedophiles,drug runners,gang leaders,people traffickers.. all of these,the police are "watching". WHY?!?! Get their asses out of the fucking country! PERIOD!

Tuck your skirt in,strap on a cock and get the job done! If these so called "human rights" dicks want to argue,send them as well! Yes,people do have human rights. They do NOT have the right to interfere with other humans and NO ONE should have the right to protect them!

      Now, what has led me to this particular soapbox session is my own situation.

You see, I am an american living in london and traveling to a place called Gravesend, quite frequently. What came to my attention,almost immediately,is how some of these "cultural" people actually hate and despise americans. There are areas in London and Gravesend that,if I go into a store,I have to write a note to ask for what I want,just so no one will hear me speak!

 I have been attacked here. Refused service here. Been called an infidel and spit at.

All because of nothing more than my birth place. I can honestly say I know how a German felt in 1937 trying to make his way in London.

     I have come to see americans as being hated by the majority of the world,but the funny thing is,they hate us,but they all want to go to america or,at the very least,they want what we have.

    But,being a "lone" american in the UK, I can be attacked. I have been attacked, and there is fuck all I can do about. I can try to ring the police,but I get in trouble because I used chair against 5-10 people. I "used a weapon" as opposed to them using 10 frikken friends!

    Not to mention,they all stick together and it is my word against ALL of theirs.

Besides,americans are soft targets. We get deported because we actually are a peace loving culture. We don't lie about and play favorites with it. Hell yes,we fight amongst ourselves,but that is us. We don't turn on others because they are different. A TRUE american welcomes foreign people and cultures. We like to learn from them. Our government does NOT represent the true america. But we are condemned because of a few people in our government.

     I really hate the fact that I get spit on because I am american. Especially in this country I call home. I love England. I love the english way of life. But, I get shit on from great heights just because of my nationality.

    Currently, I am homeless and sleep on the streets. I have been told to my face that I can't even get into a shelter just because I have no drug problems,no alcohol problems,no mental problems and I don't receive welfare. Even the homeless charities turn you down if they can't make money off you. They supposed to be set up to help people with no money...or at least I thought so. I need a hand UP. Not a hand OUT. I need help getting back on my feet so I can stand once again as a man. Not crawl at the feet of the rich and decadent and beg.

   But, the good people of london seem to thrive on that. It gives them something to point at,talk about and make themselves feel better.

    With the exception of a small handful of people who can do the bare minimum,no one here wants help. And I am not the only one. I have seen people end up on skid row and their so called friends just walked away. Londoners are your friends,as long as you don't ever need a friend. Once you need help,they can't get away from you fast enough.

   Hell,in fact,my first night on the streets, a homeless heroin addict gave me a blanket when,50 feet away,sat a guy in a ferrari just sat watching. The guy who helped me looked at the guy in the ferrari and said "if you need a blanket,I got one for you too". The guy couldn't drive off fast enough.

    Only 2 people offered me a roof. They were hours outside london. Everyone here IN london,said they didn't have the room for me to crash. Don't let the fact that the one friend I had over 100 miles away paid my train fare AND put me up on his couch in his house of 7 kids,a dog,2 cats,a guinea pig and 3 adults,all in a 4 bed house,sway your opinion any.

    Londons motto should really be "fuck you mate. I'm ok!"

London is all about taking and getting as many toys as you can and fuck everyone else.

I have even seen the "well to do" yell at homeless people just for asking for help. I have NEVER met a homeless person who wasn't willing to work and I have NEVER met a homeless person who asked to be that way.  No one wants to sleep on the streets while people just walk by and ignore them. We are people too. We just need help. Sometimes,more than once. But we will get it right,if given the chances we need. Each chance is a learning experience.

   Most of the "well to do" in london are athiest. They don't want to believe a higher power could have a hand in their so called success. Guess what? There is a God.

And he is watching.

I am going to end my soapbox session here,for now.......

     

MY Easter 09

I'm going to start this blogging thing off by telling you about my Easter weekend in the big city of the UK.

First off,I need to tell you about the month leading up to my so called "Easter weekend".

I have been sleeping on the streets since march 10,2009. Why?!

Because people in London shit suckers who don't want to be friends with anyone who might need help.

Anyway..

The only people to offer me help,funny enough,did not live in London. The only roof I could get over my head was WAY outside London in a place called Bournemouth and,even farther, Torquay. English Riviera,my ass.

When I was in Bournemouth,I stayed with a really great family who took me in,fed me and took care of me.

Unfortunately,for me, there was 7 kids,2 adults,a rottweiler,2 cats,a guinea pig and me... all in a 4 bedroom house. Needless to say, I was to the snapping point after a while.

So,when a friend called me up and offered me a 4 day break in his house,in Torquay,I took it.

Now,in Torquay,on this particular weekend,my friends sister showed up with her 2 kids and my friends 2 kids. I was in hell. A smaller hell,but a lake of fire,just the same.

One thing that did not help was a little red headed fuck who my friends sisters oldest child.

His problem is,he's got mom whipped. When he wants something,which just happens to be the same time somebody else has it,he starts to whine and she ALWAYS gives in.

Let's not mention the fact that he minces whenever he walks or runs.

(for those who do not understand "minces", let me explain it like this... he will be able to sort a rather lovely window dressing,soon enough)

Finally,after the weekend was over,I got a train back to London.

About 3+ hours on the train. I love riding the train. Or so I thought...

This train was packed. I did have a reserved seat,but,upon placing my ass in the seat,I immediately looked to my right and there sat a red-headed kid,about the age of 12. We were surrounded by the rest of his inner-gene pool diving family. They were everywhere.

Suddenly,this red-headed child,who looked like the banjo kid from Deliverance,from out of no where,smiled at me. There is never an exorcist around when you need one.

As he showed me his 2 teeth,the rest had gone the way of chocolate and sugar water,I said,out loud, "oh hell no" and got up to find some place else to be.

I ended up standing in the area between train cars,where the toilets are,for about an hour,waiting for the cousin-luvin-family-Robinson to go. They didn't.

As I stood there with all these other Easter weekenders rudely not realizing who I was and still standing in my space,I decided to make a leap to the toilet and lock myself in for a bit,for peace and quiet.

YES! I am now in my portable "man-space!" (all mens thrones are the same outside the house,so they are shared and respected). It was a nice man-space. Shiny silver,sheet metal covered walls(men don't need flowery wallpaper!( except for red-headed mincey ones) a small sink and pretty blue toilet seat that was cool to the touch of the hind quarters.

As I sat there,with pants around ankles and ipod in,I was reading an ebook on my palm-pilot(bless you mark!),when I noticed the train was actually traveling at a speed that was above normal. Meaning; it was actually on time and moving like it supposed too! Then,suddenly,as we were cruising along at a nice comfy speed,the train had to make a left turn. Not a comfortable,eased-in left hand turn,but a SHARP,L-shaped turn to the left!

At that point,I realized the pretty blue,toilet seat I was sitting on was only held on by one bolt and ONE thread of said bolt. HOW, do you ask, did I figure out this out, pray tell?! By the way my face slammed into the shiny silver metallic wall when the bolt broke.

Now,here I am,with my ipod on, my palm-pilot in one hand, trying to regain composure with the other, as I am bounced around this nice little portable man-space with jeans still around my ankles, face slammed into the wall and the pretty blue toilet seat still attached to my ass, while being ricocheted around like a fucking pinball!

Once we finally achieved a straight run on the track, I managed to get up, get this pretty blue toilet seat unstuck from my butt cheeks, wipe, wash and get recovered as best as I could.

Looking from the outside, people watching the door and hearing all this ruckus and language

that would make 4 marines take to confession, the door came flying open and there I was.

Hair looking like a raped Samoan on acid, ipod wrapped around neck and pretty blue toilet seat in hand. I can only imagine what a person outside would have thought when the train passed by and suddenly, a pretty blue toilet seat came flying out of the train like a fucking Frisbee. Which it did.

Fortunately, my seat was free and banjo boy, with the deliverance family, was gone.

I got my seat for the rest of the journey. I deserved it.

Easter? My ass.