Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

Wimminz all talk / gossip to each other, but they forget that everyone else does it too…

Case in point, I live in a small town, I have travelled a lot but my “roots” are around here, in the sense that my family history is tied in to local history, from the simple stuff like “you see those huge trees growing around the church? My grandfather planted them all” to entries in the Domesday book.

I don’t have to go very far outside my front door to meet someone who can say, “know you, knew your father, knew your grandfather too come to that” (although with age these are getting few on the ground now) and that means that up until more or less the 1960’s when there was a lot of immigration from other parts, everywhere around here was a LOT smaller, and everyone knew everyone else.

My psycho skank ho ex, she isn’t from around here, she is one of those johnny come lately immigrants from the big shitty, she has exactly zero roots or family here.

This has two effects that she is apparently unaware of.

1/ Chances are if you try and tell someone what a complete bastard I am, they have known of my family and possibly know me or at least of me, since I was a small boy in short trousers scrumping apples.

2/ Chances are there isn’t a lot you yourself can do, without it being seen and gossiped about by those same people…. who will tie this actual witnessed behaviour of yours in with your claims of what sort of person I am, and find “discrepancies” between the person you claim to be, and the person you claim I am.

To be sure, some people will listen to you, notably those paid to do so, the social workers, the child welfare workers, the family law solicitors (again, a lot of whom are immigrants to the area since the 60’s) but notably NOT anyone with roots here.

However, when you try to tell someone what a bastard I am to wimminz, and the person sat next to you at the next table is someone who is an ex of mine from way back when, and she is there meeting her friend, who is the sister of someone who is currently my fave friend with benefits and who I have been banging for a year plus, who between them can probably name at least six other wimminz who I have been with, and who can definitely name my ex wife, because they used to live six doors down as kids, expect a lot of discussion about YOU when you leave the cafe.

Furthermore, as both these wimminz at this next table not only know me, but know everyone else in this town, there is not a lot of mileage to be gained by trying to paint yourself as some sort of victimised lonely princess, because between them they can probably name 50% of the cocks you have ridden since deciding to split up with me and alienate my kids…. and they will note that you have not managed to get any local cock, but only immigrant cock, and piss poor quality immigrant cock at that.

Furthermore, both these wimminz also have kids, and as there are only three local schools of any size, yeah, you guessed it, their kids play in the same playgrounds as the kids you are trying to alienate from me.

The bottom line here, is that you being, to quote the Stranglers, a peasant from the big shitty, you literally have no idea how living in each others pockets and knowing everyone else’s business locals are around here… a factor when growing up that can be extremely annoying for a young lad trying to sow his oats, or get served a beer underage, or any of the other stunts a kid does.

Everyone KNOWS the houses from whose windows could be heard screaming and shouting and the odd police car arriving and the next day someone had a black eye or walked favouring a limp, and the houses from whose windows could be heard ohgodohgoddon’tstopgiveittomeharder and there is little point claiming to be from one, when everyone knows you are from the other.

Perhaps the dumbest thing of all, is when you tell the other wimminz sat with you at your table, your neighbour,  what a bastard your ex (me) is, just because that wimminz does not know you are fucking her husband on the side when she is on a late shift, does not mean nobody else in the cafe is aware of this….

They just don’t care much, because the neighbour in question, and her husband, like you, are foreigners.

Robbie Burns – Oh the gift that God would give us, to see ourselves as others see us…

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