Why I Would Rather Try To Find The Funny Than The Meaning Of Life

enjoyed this, I sniggered x

Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings

Sir Loin of Beef Sir Loin of Beef

Some look at life’s journey as a pitched battle, and some as a noble quest. Either way, a smart knight should be prepared for the dragons he or she is bound to encounter along the way. My weapon of choice is a feather duster.

It has only snowed once so far this weird winter.  I took advantage of the unlooked for boon of ice-free roads here in the country last week and went for a walk.  My mood was somber as I set off down the road, well bundled against the bracing cold.  I needed the lift that nature always gives me because I felt lower than I have felt in a long time.

I was thinking about my dear cousin, Moe. She’s experimenting with multiple chemo treatments, locked in mortal combat with the cancer that has spread despite her efforts. We recently learned that her…

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What if……?

The other night, I was a mess. Everything hurt.

But, those pills they gave me…..shit.

They numb the pain, but they numbed my brain.

I stopped them.

It’s just that no one told my body that.

Such torture this pain.

Those voices over my shoulder saying, “just take them, give in, you know you want to.”

Almost a panic, a fever, a fucking monster clawing at my brain.

Whatever. Fuck off. I’m not listening you know.

It hurts. Feels like every day I carry the weight of a man on my shoulders. He is breaking my back and torturing my thoughts.

So wicked are the things he says.

On it goes, on and on, right through the nights, so that the days all start to blend into one.

No. Stop. Please.

Actually can’t go on.

What if………….?

So, the other night, when I take a drag and it all slows right down.

The noises in my head, the banging on my chest and the clawing at my brain.

Then a bit later, further down the line.

I thought, what if……..?

What if they have it all wrong, what if we have it all wrong?


It’s all a lie.

They tell us we have a God.

It creates monsters.

In man.

What if, there is no God.

There is only love. Only the love you should have for your fellow man.


They take us too early. To educate us. Label us. Scar us. Scare us.

What if……this was not it, this thing we call life.

Nothing more than a fake ass, poor excuse of an existence.

It should be your way through and through. Just have some fucking respect.

For Life.

They tell you to pay your way. PAY!! PAY!! PAY!! They pay you to be a dogsbody and treat you just the same. They pay you what they think you deserve and then you begin to understand, how the Lord giveth and he taketh away! Whatever!

The fat cats eat more FAT and the alley cats get skinnier, hungrier. With the cold at their backs and the wolves at the door. But…..they stand tall.

What if……united and respected, we said no more?

What if we just took it back. Went back to the start.

These people who tell us, what we must do, where we must do it and when?

They can’t make us pay forever.


Who invented that shit anyway?

Why do we pay each other, for what’s rightfully ours? Everyone’s.

Not theirs.

Any of it.

I mean, I just don’t understand.


Why do we stand for this so called civilisation? Still? Always.

We are all just animals.

With the same basic instincts.

But then even animals have respect.

There’s surely more to life than this? How many times has someone said it?

We obey most of the time, listen some times, work and exist.

Then they tell us we are depressed. More pills.

What the fuck have they been doing to my head?

What if, to obey, is to respect?

Life is ours, take it, but then Respect.

All men, dogs or beasts of the wild deserve to live. Take what you need. No more


This is our only God…..

…….And love, in all forms, is still love. Everyone just needs to give a little.


You make your mess along the way, everyone does. So what, who cares?

All of these fifty faces just make you mean.

At least play clean. Who needs those fucked up games?

Ever wonder who pulls all the strings and what it is they do, that you never see?

Then wondered if ever anyone had noticed how all of the greatest minds, going back through the times, well, they fucking died. Way before their time. Probably.

Anyone who ever stood up, faced their fears, then watched with horror while all the faces disappear. Their light extinguished like the flicker of the flame. How many more will we sacrifice?

To gods.

And all their glory.

Or should that be gory.

Yeah some hellish and gory game.

We play every day.

And why we even listen? Listen to the shit that drags us down. Taints the soul.

Deep down.

We don’t want to carve a scar that won’t heal.


How long should we keep turning our other cheek?

The voices all giving it their all. On all kinds of shit. I don’t even know what the fuck they are on about anymore.

Every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every fucking year. Come on!!



Nowhere in sight? The fight? I’m ready……..I’m here, but where will you be when truth unfolds?

Pretending. Existing to live is never really living.

But who the hell really wants to die?

So stay cool, hang loose and admit nothing.

For now.

Whatever’s coming, is getting closer, every day that goes by.

I want to live, so you can try to….blow me up and shit.

Tamper with me.

I’ll just tear myself to pieces.

And they can take some more.



Shake it off for fuck sake.

You can always get up and at least try to keep calm. Or maybe not, fuck it, lets just kill ‘em all.

What makes you feel good is bad right?

What moron made that fucking rule?

It’s all about…….Moderation.


Wonder who planted that little seed?

It does the trick and makes many a man.


They bleed!

We will make the rivers overflow, with our blood, if we carry on.

But really…..what if there is another way?

Who really cares what colour you are? What God you serve? How fucking stupid you are?

They just give us a number.

Then will us to destroy one another…….and if we refuse………?

They take no mercy when they begin their campaign.

Still we will stand fast. Fight back.

I am no number, colour or fucking preacher of lies. Why should I be?

There are those of course, who want their pound of flesh, to kill, to maim and generally break it all down.

Who are they and what fuck are they doing? Why are they allowed to remain in our midst?

Who the hell has a clue what you really fight for?

We each are not the enemy, nor the minority, we should stand together and stand tall. Because we are strong together, strong enough to take the fall.



As we have been all along.

We are still here even after all this time. Time ticking. Running along.

One day. We will rise.

Rise above all those with hate in their hearts. Give them hell and break them. Fucking take them apart.

No mercy.


At all.

We need to see what it is, we really should be living for.

Think about it.

There’s so much more.


On our earth.

Of course, I have no clue what I am talking about. Its all mumble jumble, flailing around in those deep dark recesses of my soul and all because I got stoned.

Oh, but what a glorious way to see the world.


There’s something creeping around, inside me, all over me, right down through to my soul.

It blots out the sun and darkens the moon.

Chokes the blood and fire from right out of me.

Makes me weak and will eventually make me fall.


I need to break that fall.

I am distracted and restless.

Paying no attention to where my foot falls.

Climbing the walls.


I’m so glad that no one can see the fire raging inside me.

I fear the burns I may cause.

On the hand, whose fingers first touch me.

Maybe I’ll just set alight.


Burning a hole in your heart.

As I go, to where you can’t follow.

I feel the pull in equal measures.

I have so much to give.


And you just don’t want it all.


But, hey, where does that leave me.


Around myself, forever more.

Yeah, that’s me.


But it’s not you that I fear.

Only the rhythm my heart beats.

When I lose control.

But I know you just couldn’t take it all.

All of me.

To tell you how it hurts?

In the middle of the rubble. In the middle of your war, I stood fast, I stood tall.

Creeping ever closer to the door, so afraid, that you would hear my footfall.

I make my long journey down the stairs, I listen and I wait.

Ready to flee, if the storm changes course.

I can’t hear that sound, that awful smash and bang.

I wish I could explain how I felt each and every one.

They carved the first cracks in my heart, my mind.

Why can’t you see how you’re tearing my world apart?

Don’t think I can’t see how broken you are, I’m not blind or stupid.

And I was there with you.

I know how badly so far, life has treated you.

But you are my rock, my warmth and I need you.

All this is something I just can’t put right for you, I am a child.

Both of yours.

I can’t help thinking though, if only you could have found just a little more strength.

So that, when he turned up, you could have kept your cool.

Wished I could have whispered to you, please mom, stay strong, it will be okay.

I didn’t think I could take it another day.

But as the time ticks on and he isn’t around.

I watch the fury build in your eyes and even though, it is only because you want more.

My stomach flips and drops to the floor.

Now we all know what will happen, when he does make it home.

We all feel that key, when he turns it in the lock.

I watch for my brothers gaze, but they have left already, just making up they’re excuses.

I give them five minutes and they can escape, this is for the best, so I’m told.

When he makes a stumble on his entrance, it’s not really funny at all.

I see how hard you try to humour him. I really do.

But, how can you laugh, when you are thinking of what he has done.

I watch all the emotions run over your face.

So I run, out of the door and up the stairs, knowing all hell’s about to break free.

I hear my dear brothers, one runs and one hides.

And I realise yet again. It’s me. It’s what I need to do.

Because I just can’t leave you.

My poor bruised Mom.

I reach out my hand to open the door.

With my stomach churning, I try to slow my breathing down.

My ears are burning as I hear each rotten word.

And I cringe as I hear things I just don’t want to hear.

Then I hear you Mom, your cry as you feel that familiar sting.

Then I feel the moment you try to get away from him.

But it’s all gone quiet now.

And I just can’t tell what I should really do.

Still, I remain faithful, tensing my shoulders as I reach for that door.

I was more scared at that moment than I hope to ever be again.

For as long as I shall be around.

As, with his hands around your throat, there you lay, on the floor.

You were blue and choking, but I tried to remain calm.

I am just a little girl I wanted to scream.

How can you do this to me you are both supposed to protect me.

Not this.

I just don’t think you would have heard me.

Could my dad really kill my mom!

I panic and lash out, with the first thing that will move.

It hits him and I suppose it kind of brought him to his senses.

Thank god. I hope one day you will thank me, because that was probably the bravest thing I will have ever done.

But my relief is short lived, as I realised his intention.

I start to back off and wonder, if maybe I had begged you. Dad would you have let go of her?

But as I take one last look, before I turn to run.

I see, as I look at him, there is no flicker of recognition for me.

He doesn’t see me at all.

I hope one day he will see, those demons he fights, should not be inflicted on us and especially not Mom.

So I run, hoping you won’t have enough energy, left.

The fight all but gone.

But I can hear you coming and somehow I find the will, to make myself stand still.

Oh how I fear that strike of his hand, but not its sting.

Only the damage it will forever inflict on my pride.

For, my father, maybe one day you will know that, you really cannot have it all.

And I used to be your one and only little girl.

Both of yours.

We three do so miss you.

Miss how it used to be.

Miss the time we should have had with you.

The time that was meant to teach us, how to grow and how to love.

I just wanted to tell you how much it hurt.