It’s not a sentiment I shall be expressing to my own kids, either in person or remotely via a card or present, since the secret family courts have decided that I am such a danger to their welfare ^H^H^H^ their psycho skank ho mummies peace of mind and ability to continue to engage and employ by proxy every smelly cunt in social services and child welfare is such a priority, that I cannot be allowed to be anywhere near my own kids, I cannot be allowed to send them any presents, I cannot be allowed to send them a card.
Clearly, if in the theoretical case that there were some danger that I intended to fuck my own kids up the ass, there might have been some basis for insisting on supervised contact only, but quite how I am able to fuck them up the ass by wrapping a present and having it delivered by taxi, or by speaking to them on the phone or Skype, is anyone’s guess… until you realise it all comes back to what psycho skank ho mummy wants, and suddenly it all makes sense, the instant you forget all your stupid notions about what is best for the children, or even factoring the children anywhere in the equation.
Since “Merry Christmas” is a sentiment that I have been banned on pain of Law from expressing to my own children, I have resolved that I will not be expressing any goodwill or charm or happiness to anyone else, and contenting myself with my own peaceful contentment and happiness.
It has to be said that I never was a terribly christmassy person, for me it always was about the season of goodwill, one or two nice presents, and time spent with friends and family.
Once I left childhood myself I wasn’t even bothered about gifts, obvious exceptions being parents and children, and yeah, the psycho skank ho ex.
So it is with some mirth that I find myself being handed bags of presents from my longer term FWB skank ho’s, all of whom profess love and an ongoing desire to suck my cock, and all of whom state while handing over their presents to me that they know I have not and will not be buying them any in return.
They all also know that I will NOT be fucking spending christmas evening and day with them, I will be avoiding them and conspicuous consumption and excess like the plague.
And I have to admit, when you get to 50+ a bunch of wimminz buying your smalls and hankies and pullovers (they all know to buy natural fibres only, decent quality, no logos, and styles and colours that I like) and bath towels and suchlike isn’t actually a chore, it saves me a shopping trip and some measurable amount of cash too, which is good.
I should also mention in passing that during the recent “bug-that-does-the-rounds” one cough a lung up morning that only became a cough a lung up morning after sparking up the first smoke of the day, I have gone back to quitting smoking, which I only took up again when my psycho skank ho ex launched her FRA against me, and in addition to the saving in money annually (worthwhile) and smelling better myself (worthwhile) it means a greater oxygen supply to my brain, which is a two edged sword…. me smoking is me stoned, which is me chilled, which is me laid back.
Me not smoking is me, particularly my brain, firing on all 8 cylinders, and the gas pedal to the metal.
Not a healthy environment for wimminz or niggerz.
You know you are on to a winner when your line manager in your contract job phones you 8 times in one afternoon from his crackberry, you don’t pick up because you see who it is, and he does NOT send you either an SMS or an e-mail, or leave a voicemail, all of which he can do from his crackberry… all of which are then of course on the record… lmfao
Stay sane, and univolved in all the commercial bullshit, and keep your own company wherever possible over this “festive” period.
- Hard Tack (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- My children come first… and other fucking lies (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- A cunt like a bucket. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Merry Christmas (thezambian.com)
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