Three years ago I bought my eldest son a guitar for Christmas. I didn’t have much money, and it wasn’t a great guitar, but I taught him to play on it and he’s a helluva lot better than me now. I hoped he’d play the blues, but he’s a metal head like most kids these days. It doesn’t matter what he plays, I’m proud of him and it brings tears to my eyes to watch his fingers flying across the fretboard faster than I’ll ever manage.
But yesterday some rat faced, yellow skinned, stinking, green toothed scurrying vermin stole his guitar, God Damn them.
They stole a bunch of other things too. My daughters watch. Jewelery. A TV. And unbelievably, they scattered thumbtacks across the floor of my daughters bedroom, presumably hoping that she’d hurt herself when she walked into her room.
Dogs. I’d fight them all at once, snap their scrawny necks like twigs, and whistle while I worked. But it doesn’t seem likely that I’ll have that pleasure…
So I have a News Years wish for the scum who did this. I reckon they’d be smokers, and my wish for them is that the smoking increases. I hope they end up sucking down two or three packs of full strength durries every day. And then in a few years time I hope they taste the blood in their mouths during the morning coughing session and feel a pang of fear. And after that, I hope their eventual end is long and slow and terribly painful.
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