When was the last time you did nothing and I mean literally nothing wrong? Make no single mistake not have one tiny hair out-of-place, not say one single thing in a day that may offend or hurt another?
When was the last time you had one single day in your life that you did not pick fault with somebody, be it their appearance or their personality?
Every day I guarantee even the best behaved, highest pillar of society will and does do something that somebody somewhere will view to be inappropriate.
For instance the latest scandal with prince harries and his nude romp?
I laughed my fucking arse off at this, was the red-headed prince not born into life naked?
Every day I see people out there who walk around in their glass houses, forgetting that the glass is double-sided mirrored images in some places, as they continue to walk around literally bearing it all thinking others can’t or don’t see their imperfections flaws.
They sit inside their homes throwing rocks candidly, yet forget that when you throw rocks inside a building there is only a limited space for which this rock can be thrown before it bounces off one suffice and smashes you’re so called perfect world you have created for those outside to view.
It doesn’t matter if you’re the fucking pope king of England queen of England, black white or yellow, it doesn’t matter if your male or female nor if you’re 10 or 100 years old.
You are not perfect and have no right to sit there in your chair looking out your window that one day you will smash or the cracks that hide the imperfections within the glass no longer hold your plate of glass in that you hide behind.
What prompted this outburst of sorts you may be wondering as you read my words, which is where I am about to explain the leading up to my fuck up or fuck right off words.
For those out there who know me you know that recently I have taken a turn in the world to head to the country from the beach and glamor sand and shit which on its own has been one hell of a move, so leaving the beach and entering a small town was one that hit the tabloids and local bush gossip lines at a rate faster than a bush fire burning under the hot sun.
Similar to being the new kid at a new school yet with adults, who are for the most part not too bad, but then there is as always the minority with their galah-a leader the town gossip.
Oh how people in small towns live for this town drama fucking queen, as I have learned this women seems to be that of my very neighbour, and oh the fucking headlines since Angel hit this small town have never been bolder.
Nor have they been accurate, however I have concluded, let them think what they want to think, and make their stories into the local bush novel.
God damn I am the local brothel, pimp, drug dealer, who came from the big city town, I am the local women who I am sure by now is sleeping with the two local cops in this town, not to mention the heat the dude over the road feels whenever the boys in blue stop outside my house, (often their stopping in relation to work however none of the small-minded neighbours know this) as they lock windows shut curtains and don’t surface until the heat is what they think to be gone.
I walk out into the front yard to do my garden in the afternoon with my son, where hells bloody bells cars start to drive past at an alarming number out of nowhere, it is like I have created fucking peak hour, as they start tooting their horns and whistling out to a female in a skirt who happens to be doing her own thing with her son minding her own business much to the delight of the good old redneck local boys.
Since coming out to the country I have managed to see snakes (something I am not familiar with at the best of times, however am now becoming familiar with the slimy little fuckers), I have managed to see the slaughter of two ducks from next door as the neighbours belt them over the head with the shovel to shock them, prior to using the axe to behead them.
As my son stood there telling me about the broken ducks, I look over and see first-hand jut how it is that it’s done in the country and find myself vomiting in the front garden.
I have now seen spider bigger than my god damn hand, and women who have never seen a razor to shave their legs much less any other parts I dread to think of, I have seen the local crazy women ride her lawn mower to the local shop and back home again to buy an ice block, and I have screamed my arse off whilst being on a mini dirt bike that I can safely say I do not like.
I can tell you that this country change certainly has been an eye opener of sorts, both for me and mine, and the locals, as I grin thinking to myself the stories that must fucking circulate.
In the afternoons I have this habit of turning on the stereo and blasting the music like my house is now a fucking night club, then I laugh as I realise I had Kevin bloody Wilson blasting, or green day and their language that just rocks, even better is when pink gets turned up as fucking perfect gets blasted to the beat of the windows literally shaking.
But I tell you the thing that pisses me off the one thing that really does urk this Angel’s ball and chain, is the fucking gossip next door who would not have a fucking clue, nor am I about to drop her any (none that are accurate anyway).
All this in the space of a few months, and yet somewhere deep down I know in my heart of hearts there is so much more to come, as once again I smile looking around the lounge for the remote to the amp, cause I feel like putting on the stereo, it’s that time of the day.