It's been one of those days, the one where just getting through the day is a triumph without killing someone. In a long tortuous way, in fact anyone who puts the next straw on my back. There's a saying I once heard "Don't wake the sleeping bear," which seems to me to be pretty important. Except today I was a bear in a cage with loads of visitors throwing sticks at me. Luckily the cage door was locked. I nearly committed murder.
Standing at the platform waiting for a train I get a text from Silly Sophia saying Long Haired boy has to leave. Little Monster Boy needs his room. Silly Sophia had been speak to someone who listens, and this time she was using someone else again to say what she has on her own mind. I didn't need the text it was the first wind-up. At lunch time I met Long Haired boy and we discussed Silly Sophia. I told him the reasons why Little Monster Boy had to have a room and the woman from Del Monte had Silly Sophia in a neck hold. She'd steal Little Monster Boy away. I felt sorry for Long Haired Boy, he's been through too much at such a young age. He said he felt unloved. I told him we all loved him, I loved him, his nan and even Silly Sophia did, although she didn't know how to show it. You could easily argue there's a good case for test-tube genetic babies rather than have families. Then you never know you could always get a bad batch of genetics, or just a load of loonies you weren't related to, but the good thing would be, you wouldn't have to see them again.
At the Fish Factory I could of killed. I could of killed the manager, because all he ever does each day is talk to people. And I could of killed Tatooed girl coz all she ever does all day is give a verbal diatribe of the next bit of fish gutting she is about to do. I could of killed the the man who is like an old girl sitting behind me, because he just likes chatting when other's chat, he thinks he's in some way a bit more prestigious than others as well. I could probably get enjoyment out of killing him twice, ok, maybe three times. I could of murdered the work man on the floor below our factory where they are constantly drilling. I would of got the drill and stuck it in his ear while he was laying on the floor then just flipped the switch. My paracetamol weren't working. I really needed to concentrate, with work coming out of my ears fish all over the place flapping about crying out for attention. And we have only one more day left of this old electric fish machine because a new one is going to be up and working in 5 weeks time. Given it is compatible because they really don't know. At times I sat at my desk and swivelled on my chair looking away over to a blank wall. All these people were making noise. I needed to concentrate and get on with my fishes. These people wouldn't let me. I wonder if i can cram them all into the lift and cut the wire? The problem is with all these murders it might be quite for a short while but then I'd be stuck in a jail with two fat geezers one called Shirley and the other Fred who fancied something fresh. Kill them, dispose of their bodies in the Thames and blame it one someone else. No, I think I'd really enjoy it. And it would send a message out there to all those people who just love opening their mouths and letting out a load of dribble. Yes. Sometimes there is only so much verbal diareah a person can take, and this may result in death. Yep, they could post up a message on the walls like it's done on cigarette packets. I better keep blunt heavy objects or sharp light objects out of sight. "Chill man, Chill." Yes. I even tried saying those words to myself. They didn't work. But fortunately I am not incarcerated so could write this BLOG.
I eventually got round to doing some Fish work. Then came across a case which took my attention. A youngish fishy mother had to flee her little rock pool. She had 3 sprats, 8, 6 and 3 years of age. Her rock pool had been plagued by her ex fishy partner. He'd broken her nose twice, humiliated her in public and generally been not a nice man. The poor fishy woman then had relatives knocking on her door harassing her. All because she decided she no longer wanted to wear his ring. She'd said to him their relationship had to be filleted. He was very annoyed, violently annoyed. For him, because he came from a hotter fishy climate this would bring dishonour to his family. He and his family kept threatening the poor fishy woman and then he said something which made me want to kill him. He had told her he was going to kill fishy woman and the little sprats and he told her how he'd do it. Poor fishy lady ran off to another rock pool. But it incited anger in me. I wanted to get load of blokes find this man and beat him into anchovy paste, pummel him and give him a warning. The day had been infuriating because of the noise but here had come a real reason to be violent. Luckily I'm not a violent person. I am sure I wouldn't do anything to him if I ever saw him, if I knew what he looked like. However, this incident is one which highlights how cultures from different rock pools don't always mix, especially if the other rock pool is in Pakistan and they think honour killing is acceptable.
I went shopping after work, and wondered if I should get drunk or write a BLOG. This part is done now I have a half bottle of Scotch, a carton of Double cream and a wondering if it's too late to try my hand at an Irish Coffee. Nah, it's probably easier to go sharpen the knives.
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