It’s because they weren’t spanked. 

Poetic rant. 

It’s because kids are no longer spanked, lack of discipline, education, poverty Kids having bloody kids. It’s lack of respect, additives, bad diet, stale air, fluoride, inpesticides and the latest fashion trend. Lack of veg, a stern role, divorce rates and single moms. It’s easy money and light work, generation x and bad teaching. It’s the mother’s fault the father’s debt, duties voice so fucking set….
Or maybe the reason our kids disrespect, is that all around them, everyday they see adults breaking rules…Suggesting it’s okay. From crossing the road when the man is red to the rudeness that should never be said. It’s the thank you’s missed and the doors slammed shut. Maybe less, one rule you and another for me and screams of abuse out there on the street. It’s the fucks and the cunts they hear being said, from the old guy sitting at the bus shelter shed. The shop keepers turning up their  snobbish head at the food in the asked for kids to be fed.  
So easy we judge but never we look, parenting is not found in an old dusty book. Takes you and takes me when out on the street, to show our dear children to act like a treat. They follow and learn, watch and they earn…So before opening your mouth, before speaking a word, ask yourself first…Are your own morals blurred. Are you perfect and pure or just keeping score. Did you wait and then cross or did you ignore the cost? Did you moan and groan whilst waiting in line, believing you are the only one worthy of time. Did you stamp and strop, kick and fucking hop, expecting your right and willing to fight….

Is it really the mother, the father sister and brother, or is ignorance an illness you fucking suffer. 

KH*©2017

Just ranting…

 

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I’m an introvert and in my perfect world there would be no need for communication. We would instead converse directly, telepathically, there would be no need for eye contact, or finding the right words, I wouldn’t need to muddle through my thoughts and translate my poetic musings into dialogue and fuck adjacency pairing (conversational turn taking), fuck, fuck adjacency pairing. And don’t touch me, please, I can see you need to hug a random stranger and that’s your business, I will not judge, but please, don’t make me that person. Don’t think at any point it is okay to get up in my space and let your skin come even close to mine, it’s not okay…i’m not broken, don’t look at me with those displeasing eyes, i’m sorry that you think me the rude one when I recoil from your touch or when suddenly I stop talking and fucking blush. Listen and I will speak but don’t expect to find me talking in the crowds, instead I like to watch hidden by my shroud. Lead into privacy where my voice alone can rise. Fuck, I am a walking contradiction. There are millions, billions perhaps of nerve endings sitting beneath the skin waiting to be triggered, waiting to shoot out mini fucking canons every single time they are stroked gently as though you were petting a cat, i’m not a fucking cat, do not pet me. Get out of my personal space, my muscles are tight from resisting the urge to go bat shit crazy…it’s like tickling my fucking nerve endings then walking away, now the fuckers are awake they need to feel, they need the deep penetration of touch, fuck, fuck, fuck. I sometimes think I truly despise people, I mean that in a nice way :). It’s times like this when I am very aware of my contradictions, I hate being touched, I hate being hugged and fuck me I hate when people think it’s okay to touch without permission. I love touch when it’s done right, I love deep touch that I can truly feel, not gentle tiny fucking annoying strokes. I hate having to talk with people, I like living inside my little bubble, I like being alone, I like solitude…I love talking with the right people, I love talking to those that know my silence means nothing more than an invitation for them to crawl on up inside my mind. I hate small talk I like real talk. I hate talking about how I feel I fucking love talking about how I feel! I hate talking about my thoughts and feelings and yet fucking hell they spill onto the page as though my life depended upon it. I’m a worthy walking contradiction, a beautifully quirky contradiction…just don’t touch me or hug me or fucking stroke me like a cat, don’t assume I’m an extrovert because of my self confidence, loving myself is easy :). I know i’m kinda hard, but the clues are clearly there just know that if I say it, it means I truly care.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words)

 

A midday ‘Sales person’ rant.

Sales people….they drive me crazy! Honestly they drive me insane, I get it, I understand it’s their job and they have to get the hits to get the money, but seriously when I say No, I actually mean No. No means No peeps! Oh and that dumb arse stupid thing they do when they say it’s great value, better than what you’re receiving now…hmmm I may have failed my Maths GCSE but I can do the maths, it’s not value if you want more money and I don’t want the service you are selling. I did feel a little bad for the poor lad though, he was clearly trying very hard to stick to his script and I was ripping it to shreds and enjoying it! But seriously, sales people when I say No I mean No, if you carry on reading your script to me I promise I will rip it apart, I promise I will throw back at you everything you are throwing at me and I promise I will do it whilst smiling, Speaking to me is a complete waste of your time, time you could be spending actually getting customers, I make it clear from the word go that I do not want your service…seriously do you think I am  a dumb housewife? Just throw a few words my way and you’ll grab yourself a deal….grrr you drive me crazy!!!!!! Ok rant over.