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my block list is after getting longer and longer now if I unfriend you dont take any heat too it

LexieOnRale wrote: »

http://tinypic.com/r/2rrnoz8/8


Hahaha can't stop laughing

She can spell "lesbian" but she can't spell "this".

FreeFallin94 wrote: »

:rolleyes:
https://us.v-cdn.net/6034073/uploads/attachments/490562/325558.PNG

LexieOnRale wrote: »

http://tinypic.com/r/2rrnoz8/8


Hahaha can't stop laughing

I honestly couldn't understand anything in these 2 posts ...

http://tinypic.com/r/jkef61/8


Are people really so desperate?

rawn wrote: »

"I'm lying? Was it not you banging on my door this morning drunk looking for a change of clothes cos you wet your pants. If you believe in karma you know well its coming for you not me. Can't wait till you sober up and loose your big head."

This from a girl to her bf. They have a kid and live together. Cos all of their drama is totally our business :rolleyes: There was more from last night but they've been deleted, basically she is mad that he seems to be going out drinking a lot instead of staying home with her and a sick baby. (legit reasons of course, just dunno why it's being made public). They're usually one of those couples that takes pictures of their dinner thanking each other for another lovely meal, talking about how lucky they are.

Yes you do...

On the page of the retail shop he owns... Way to scare off your customers!

Hello there,

I would just like to begin by thanking all the people out there who have been supportive over the last few weeks.

I have received many kind messages and trust me I did not set out to make some of you cry,I'm not like that.

But I do get carried away.

I shoot from the hip and since the first day I went to school I was the one.

I think I got most of my education from outside in the hallway looking through a small pain of glass at the rest of my class mates.

Maybe that helped me focus on the real things.

Questioning authority for me is an instinct.

People think that I am an arrogant smart arse but they really do not know me.

I am ultra confident and I admit I have a high opinion of my self.

But this comes through years and years of slaving to my passions.

And this whirlpool that is my life is the result.

I broke my fathers heart from the day I was born until the very day that he died.

Now I know some of you can relate to this but hold on a minute here.

I broke my fathers heart.

I remember to this day as if it was yesterday the day he grabbed me by the scruff and drove me to the police station in Rathcoole county Dublin.

A seven year old child.

A little bastard yes but this?

No.

As he drove away my world imploded.

I remember the warnings and his frustration clearly.

This was building up for days, till one day I said to him ‘do it see if I care!’

Ten minutes later I was alone in the freezing cold outside the gates of a very ominous looking building.

I can feel it now as I write this.

The numbing terror.

He had warned me.

How was he to know that he was creating a monster.

Under it all, he was like me and I was like him.

After all blood runs true.

I was my fathers son.

I remember the day my parents were having a family get together.

Aunties,uncles the works.

My parents owned at the time the local public house called The Blue Gardenia.

It is closed now, another victim to their recession.

Well as it happens I struck gold again.

There was and still is a crab apple tree in one of the fields my father used to own.

Since that time the field was sold but the old tree leans over my land and to this day most of its fruit falls on my side of the boundary.

I am a dreamer and a romantic at heart even though people mostly see the other side of me.

I prefer to think that tree knows me better than I know my self because we spent so much time together as friends.

Well, on that faithful day we were to be bonded for good.

I burst in on my folks.

The loud and obnoxious ***.

Everyone turned as I shouted out ‘I did it,I did it.’

My father was the first to react.

‘What did you do?’

‘I climbed to the top of the crab apple tree and jumped on to the back of Smokie.’

Smokie was my fathers pride and joy.

She was a beautiful grey mare, she would die a few years later giving birth,the good news was we saved her foal.

He became midnight.

A monster that went onto become a fine show jumper.

Now I have tears in my eyes.

Anyway.

I repeated my self just to hammer my genius home.

I think I was not even eight at the time.

I could have been younger and the police story could have been a year earlier too it is hard to remember forty years ago.

The time frame lets us down but the imprint never goes away.

Well back to the kitchen and the aunties and uncles.

My father stood up from the table, he appeared delighted for me.

I remember the big beaming smile on his face.

This was the second lesson life was to bestow on me.

Another unwanted treacherous gift.

When I think back, my childhood was just a boundary less mess.

He put his hand on my shoulder.

‘***.’

‘That is amazing.’

I should have shut up there and then.

But I did not.

‘I galloped Smokie all around the field you shoudda seen me da!’

Then he said it.

‘Sure let’s do it again so everyone can see your cowboy skills.’

Now in my head I am saying your frigging joking me aren't you?and god actually knows what my reaction was then.

But a few minutes later I was standing under that crab apple tree.

And I was not alone.

They all came to watch.

There was no reality tv in those days.

But that did not change the fact that there was reality.

And did I mention that our crab apple tree was a monster.

It was.

It stood at least thirty feet straight up.

And I was only a wisp of a lad.

How much trouble can you pack into one small child?

Then he said ‘Hold on a minute.’

I watched him walk to the far end of the field to where Smokie was grazing oblivious to us all.

She at that distance looked like a small thing.

And I was a hopeful hoper.

I would always hope to be sure,just in case.

She snorted in my face.

I jumped with fright.

My dad loved horses and was a great horseman and me?

I was allowed to shovel the ****.

Now I was up to my neck in it and there was nothing I could do to change it.

I may have been a kid but even then I knew it for what it was.

Me against my Da.

Another stand off.

The simple thing would be to tell the truth then and there.

No doubt they would have laughed it off.

But no.

Not me.

Not now.

Not ever.

I was a bollix back then and if anything I am a bigger bollix now.

I just said.

‘Right then.’

I remember turning to the tree.

Everything was extra extra real.

It was the middle of summer and the foliage was literally weighing the branches down.

The pungent smell.

Mmmm the air tasted thicker the closer I got to that moss laden giant.

There was no helping hand.

This was one mans war.

Behind Smokie snorted as if she was impatient,I did not dare turn around.
I climbed upon a broken bit of fence it was greasy.

From there I reached out and grabbed hold of the nearest branch.

For a second I steadied myself,my standing foot was sinking into the rotted fence post.

I hauled my self up.

I remember there were flies absolutely every where.

I remember smelling fresh dung as it plopped unceremoniously to the ground.

Every branch encountered my death grip.

I was terrified.

I had never climbed this tree before or any tree for that matter,I was just a kid my tree climbing days were before me.

I looked down through the mosaic of leaves.

My father was kind enough to bring Smokie right under the tree.

She looked so different.

The width of her back alone.

She was so broad,big and strong.

I had never seen a horse from above before.

My Da told me to hurry up.

Do you know something?

I would give anything to be there that day witnessing this.

I miss everyday without my father even the not so good ones.

Anyway it took an awfully long time but I made it to the last of the thick branches.

The thinner ones crumbled my resolve.

I was at the end of the road as my father called out.

‘Are you ready yet?’

How did I let myself get into this situation?

Now don’t get me wrong I ask myself the same thing nearly everyday.

But that was a monumental day for me.

Like a date on your computers system restore.

I remember hugging that mossy damp branch with every ounce of my puny strength.

I hugged it so hard that to this day I think that might have been my first sexual encounter.

It felt weird.

The tighter I hugged the tighter I wanted to hug.

My father called out again but I ignored him.

I had my eyes tight shut hoping he would go away.

After a short while he did.

And I was left there.

On my own.

Again.

I am not sure how long I clung to that branch.

How could a man do this to his son?

But in truth what did he do?

He called my bluff.

Was this a crime.

He did not force me to do anything and I know if I had told he truth things would have worked out differently.

I think he was a very wise and loving man.

He just choose not to be open about it.

This was just one of many lessons he taught me.

The full meaning of which only hits home now,ten years after we buried him.

Some people have a gift.

He handed me the rope with which to hang myself and I took it,gladly.

Now I am here today.

Confused but blessed that he was my Da and no one else s.

I look at the world and it makes me sad.

I think of all the souls who must have felt this way at some time or other in their lives.

The one thing I hate him most for is turning me into a carer.

He opened my heart.

I remember watching Gorillas in the mist with him.

I secretly cried my eyes out.

In fact I nearly choked.

He stared at the screen a mask of emotion.

Stoic.

But why did he not cry?

I am not an angel.

I know some of you read my stuff and I really do not know what to be thinking.

How does any of this fit in with what is happening today?

After all this is just another stupid story.

Like my music.

The creator becomes immune to the magic he creates.

We do not see it as a wonderful thing.

It becomes our gaol.

As the hours whittle a way a little part of us cries out not to be forgotten.

Take you for example.

You have read this far.

I know you have your own story.

But will you tell it?

I am not afraid to talk to others and tell it like it is.

Others can hide behind their words but I do not need to.

We have all been thrown together by a common purpose.

And to be honest I think my father would be proud if I manged to achieve just one thing.

Some of the bestest people I know are the oddest ones.

They speak from the heart even though others look down on them.

Why do we persecute those that are different.

Are we that insecure?

Why do we say horrible things online or in person when a kind word could bring us both happiness.

If I stop you on the street and say hello what would your reaction be?

Who thought you to think that way?

Who thought you to be angry all the time.

Who thought you to steal?

Lie.

Cheat!

Kill?

It was not I.

Who thought you to hate?

You were the most beautiful child in the world.

You meant so much to so many has this changed?

Do the same people not love you anymore?

Does it even matter?

I have done bad thing too in my life.

At the time I went with the flow.

Today I am still ashamed.

But I think I am a better man for realizing.

And I hope the people that I have hurt like the man I have become and not the memory.

I can see clearly now.

Maybe I am at the stage in my life where I get a second chance.

Who knows,it has to happen first before we can make sense of it.

If I could live my life in reverse I could be such a wonderful person.

And you.

Maybe you can make a difference.

I am not a weak man.

I am a strong man.

I have stood in the ring toe to toe and I will ever back down.

But there are two sides to every person.

And society has killed you.

You cling to the raft of what is left.

Every day the wave.

You struggle to keep your head clear as you gulp down the brine.

They want you to remain in a permanent state of panic.

You do this and their job is done.

When I speak out about injustice I speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.

I speak for those that have not reached for that first branch.

I speak for those who would have said nothing in the first place.

I speak for those that would have jumped onto the horses back because some of us were great men from the beginning.

I speak for the women.

They know.

I speak for every mother that waits for the day.

That dreaded knock on the door.

I speak for those who have lost.

I speak for the wonderful people in our lives that will die.

Some today, some in the near future, it matters not when for it will happen.

Our time to be great is now.

Today.

Yesterday belongs to my father and to the many fathers that share his place in the grand scheme our creator has designed for us.

It is our time to live as a free people of this I am certain.

Someone has to walk clear of the crowd.

Our governors have been found out.

The chameleon has grown boldest of late.

We are livestock!

Our pathetic lives matter to no one else save ourselves.

And still you cling on.

Others will stand up but it is you that will live to regret the day you chose to be a coward.

I climbed the tree.

As an infant I stood alone outside a police station with the fear of god in my heart,but I stood there defiant till my father came back for me.

I stood outside the door on the day he died because he did not want to speak to me or set sight on me.

I placed a book of crosswords and a pen in his arthritic gnarled hands,my hero,dead.

I knew he loved crosswords so much that it was my parting gift.

Then they shut his coffin forever.

If you cannot feel the pain in your heart then you will have never lived.

If you sit back and let me go to war by myself then I feel sorry for you.

No,I feel sad for you.

I always said I would never fight another mans war.

I will not be here pawn or any mans slave.

But I will fight for the ground I stand on.

What will you fight for?

Why don’t you make a start.

Listen to the crazies.

They do not want you to listen to the crazies.

Those men and women are my brothers and sisters.

We are all family.

Today we stand at the precipice.

Two opposing armies.

This is our land.

Here you will find our homes.

I will not grovel for gruel anymore.

I will show you what it is to be a man.

You can beat me but you will not break me because I am an Irishman.

And I will walk in the footsteps of our heroes the way it was meant to be.

And where injustice fouls I will set free for one man is an army,if he is the right man.

Are there others out there?

Will you help me make my country a better place for the sake of our children?

If not for me then do it for them.

This government will break us.

Have no doubt.

The time has come to hear our voice.

The mighty roar of the ocean.

Our leaders have failed us.

They steal from our future.

They laugh at our past.

When will you listen to the voice of reason?

When you are alone on your death bed.

On November the first if our creator is willing will you march with us?

Will you sing our songs and join our hands for freedom.

As family we will be strong.

We will show the world our unity.

We will change this country for the betterment of all not just one of us.

And we will do this the correct way.

Not with the gun but peacefully.

Thank you for being my friend.

This is a message for those among you that have not quite made up there mind as to what they should do concerning the civil unrest around the country.

I attended the march last Saturday the 11th of October.

This is a first for me.

For the last 20 yrs i have been to caught up in everyday life to ever even considering taking to the streets to protest against the miss management of our land.

I come from a professional conservative family.

I grew up surrounded by opinions based around being a good citizen give or take one or two issues.

Okay i was always the black sheep and unfortunately i still am.

People can say what they like about me but my family instilled a strong sense of morality in me on an almost cellular level.

My father whose father was a detective for the Gardai back in the day was the most morally strict person i have ever known and believe me i know a lot of good people and you know who you are if you know me and you are reading this.

I never once doubted his convictions and words because he never faltered.If he said something he stuck to it and that was that.

He thought us to be honest to the point where i hear voices in my head when an issue of right versus wrong raises its head.

Now do not get me wrong i am not a saint.

There is a difference.

I am talking about the line.

I am talking about knowing the difference and standing up for what you believe to be fair and just.

Sometimes this may not work in our favour.

But if that voice that speaks as your conscience tells you you are right or wrong well then you should heed it.

Because that voice is the only friend you will truly ever have.

That voice like the rings used to identify a trees age is a culmination of a lifetime of often harsh lessons.

It is the vice that whispers consequence into the deafest of ears what you choose after that is between you and your maker.

I hear that voice loud and clear and it has guided me for over forty years.

And i know some of you that know me will understand what it is i am getting at.

I do not need a law to tell me not to rob.

My mother and father taught me that.The indignation and hurt in their eyes as they collected me from Store street Garda station taught me that.

I do not need judicial guidance to know that treating people unfairly makes you less than a man.

I do not need a statute book to tell me that if someone is in need of help be it on the side of the road or just through every day circumstance it is our duty as a citizen of this country to lend a hand irrespective of personal gain.

She is someones sister.Mother.

He could be a father or brother.

Everyone has a story just as important as our own.

The point is we are facing the biggest moral dilemma of our life time.

That is why i marched on Saturday the 11 th of October.

To see for myself.

To see through the fog of deception.

To believe in my convictions and i swear to you i heard a voice that day as i stood amongst thousands of my people.

I was doing the correct thing.

And i was witnessing a just awakening it was over whelming.

I know now the lies.

Everything has clicked in to place.

I cannot say for sure if my father would approve i guess we will never know the answer to that.

But what i can say is i believe that my protest is morally just.

And i believe that the people of Ireland have the irrevocable right to stand up and put an end to the injustice that has become our gaol.

Many of you are lost to the cause.

Maybe the timing is just wrong our like myself you are to caught up in your own little world to care i have to admit i know this.

Maybe its because i am at a stage in my life that i can care about more than myself.

I am not here to judge but the question must be asked for the sake of transparency.

Is it morally right to let the stewards of our destiny enslave us.

I use this word because we have been enslaved.

These are the words of a madman rummaging or his gun.

These are the words of a man that sees the world for what it is.

Harsh.

Cruel.

Unforgiving.

We have been sold lock stock and barrel.

The voice of my father in my heart told me to get up off your arse and get out on the street and tell the world that enough is enough.

And so i did.

I got off the Luas and stepped into a sea of emotion.

There were thousands where i had hoped to find a few more than hundreds.

There were songs where i thought to have herd the voices of scumbags and thugs.

There was solidarity where i thought i would feel isolated and alone.

Wow!

For those that missed it all i can say is wow!

The young the old the brave and the bold.

They were all there.

I was carried by the tide the wave after wave of emotion that flooded over around and through me.

And above all else it felt right to be there.

For the first time in my whole life i know what it feels like to be an Irishman.

I know now what all the songs are about.

Every man woman and child that ever sacrificed himself for this country was honoured that day by the thousands upon thousands that flooded the streets of Dublin.

Does feeling good need a law to diminish that guilty pleasure.

They will tell you that it does.

Does caring need a bi law to reduce it's efficacy by thirty percent at the bequest of our tormentors?

Are crumbs from the masters table enough to feed our families.

When the voice in your heart screams louder than any unjust law is it wrong to stand up for what you truly believe in.

Are you content to let the heroes from your most beloved films and stories loose their meaning because the coward in you hides in the dreamworld.

Our slavers have been found out.

The great Oz is a hoax.

The Greeks have shamed us but that shame unites us.

We are not here to be laughed at.

We are not here to be bullied.

We are here to be free.

There is no law that can be contrived that will ever change this because the law in our hearts will not allow it.

So from now on think upon what i have said.

I do not do this for me.

I have made my decision already.

I do this for you.

We must put aside our differences.

We must unite.

And together we will stop and help those less fortunate regardless of what our masters say.

Together we will protect Ireland until she regains her strength.

If this makes me a traitor then there is no law.

westernfrenzy wrote: »

Did anyone actually bother reading all that?

Ain't nobody got time for that!

LexieOnRale wrote: »

http://tinypic.com/r/mmfngz/8


Give me strength

We went Santa shopping in '05. We love our guy. Pricey, but I insist on only the best for our Maximillian.