Before I continue this post, I must point out I was born in an age before political correctness.  I’ve reached that age where my brain goes from

You probably shouldn’t say that.

to

What the hell, lets see what happens

People want you to be real until you say something they don’t like.  Well I’m far from perfect I am real, that’s who I am and I will never be someone I’m not.  I just call it as I see it.

It’s now very common to hear people say

I’m offended by that

as if that gives them certain rights.  It’s nothing more than a whine.  It has no meaning, it has no purpose, it has no reason to be respected as a phrase.  “I’m offended by that.”  Well so ‘kin what.

You will continue to suffer if you have an emotional reaction to everything that is said to you.  True power is sitting back and observing things with logic.  True power is restraint.  If words control you, that means everyone else can control you.

I miss the good old days when you could actually have an opinion without it offending somebody.

Some people will only like you if you fit inside their box.  Don’t be afraid to tell them to shove that box up their a**e.

If your path demands you walk through hell, then walk as of you own the place.

Something else that I find irritating, is when you hear adults say that children have changed.  Children haven’t changed, they don’t know anything about anything.  Adults have changed.  They demand less of children, they expect less of children, They make their lives easier instead of preparing them for what life is truly about.  Adults are the ones that have changed.  It’s a change that’s destroying society.  Authority figures have no respect because children are not raised correctly.

I’ll end with a poem.

I remember the corned beef of my childhood and the bread that we cut with a knife,

When the Children helped with the household and the men went to work not the wife

The cheese never needed a fridge and the bread was so crusty and hot

The children were seldom unhappy and the wife was content with her lot.

I remember the milk from the bottle, with the yummy cream on the top.

Our dinner came hot from the oven and not from a freezer or shop.

The kids were a lot more contented, they didn’t need money for kicks.

Just a game with their friends in the road and sometimes the Saturday flicks.

I remember the slap on my backside and the taste of soap if I swore.

Anorexia and diets weren’t heard of and we hadn’t much choice what we wore.

Do you think that bruised our ego?  Or our initiative was destroyed?

We ate what was put on the table and I think life was better enjoyed.

Author unknown

 

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