So yesterday I swung by my parents home, had a good meal with them
but that was before this, yep
child labour. That´s my use in this family of mine, well not that you can call me a child,
let´s say.. force labour. So this was early in the morning, and mind you I have a broken
ankle, bad back, my lungs are filled with nicotine, I coud actually write a post about how
screwed up my body is, and that would be a long post. So after this, I was lead to
this!Cleaning out one room in the second
floor of the house. Seems like little? Hell no, to the right of you is more junk they want to either
give to friends, sell, which I volunteered to sell with my shady connections to which my mother
since she knows what connections are about in my past gave me….well there is no other way to
put it, she just bitch slap me basically, lookshe seems
as if she´s doing something…..don´t let her fool you, in that second I was saying something or just
fooling around taking a photo maybe and when she saw I wasn´t helping out, well out came the “Rambo”
in her and
look how I ended up. By the way you saw all the junk
to your left in that pic? A lot of things to throw away. They want to sell my childhood home, so that´s that.
Anyways after my bitch slap I decided quickly to pick the first thing I saw laying down on the floor
That has to be at least 50 years old,
it´s a relic. Actually good new is that most of the things I´m the one who will keep them,
if I´m able to get an apartment for myself and not live with these two crazy´s I have as roomates
who are now snoring like pigs after a night of, a lot of
bubly bubly alcohol. So here I am at work, no shoes a cigarette in mouth, but working never the less.
Then I carried this baby outof the room.
I remember me at age 15 playing with that thing. And don´t ask me exactly what it does.
I just know it vibrates So after a morning of pure hell, a morning of being mentally and physically
abused, then I had this face when everything was done. I don´t know why people go to the university
really, we need more skilled labour. I should write a post about that.
.So this is me because as they say
So she was happy as you can see by my face.
You better wish she is I guarantee you that. After all I´ve been through life, this person is probably
the only one that scares me to almost death. So in my case, what are son´s for….slave labour.
Forget about helping the refugees, help me!
Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.