Friday, June 24, 2016

The UK spoke.

The EU woke.

The Donald blamed it in partl on dra-mama.and in part on the times of people being fed up with remote control.

dra-mama is probably seething in his home brewed (by a paid staff of dozens) beer.

The Frump who was against a parting is now for the parting, good for the people to make a choice.


I wrote a friend in the UK and wished him good luck. He responded by saying the Brits preferred to row their own boat and that he had checked his oars and was now checking his boat would float.

Ah, the quiet English stiff upper lip.

Actually, I think getting out was a good idea and I also remember the bru-haha that occurred in England over eggs when this idea of the EU (by a different name) was going on. The Brits had just come out a long, long war and its after math helping the Yanks in a place called Korea and they were tired.

Which reminds one that at the time empty holes still festered London and other cities where once buildings stood, but the rubble was cleaned up. I asked an English friend if they were going to join the fight for Egypt and he said; “No.”

We’ve had enough war and fighting. We’ve lost a generation.

We dropped that line of talk and drifted in other areas. It did, however, stick with me and as I grew a beard such casual comments in such a tone took on more and more meaning. It took that long, I suppose, to recognize polite answers to impolite questions. Well, perhaps to inexperienced questioners full of themselves that hadn’t experienced a war.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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2 Responses to Friday, June 24, 2016

  1. After closely checking my boat and its rarely used oars, I am pleased to report that both are in excellent order. I’m looking forward to the excitement of rowing again.

    There is one fly in the ointment, though: Blonde Donald’s stepbrother, Blonde Boris, is a strong contender for Prime Minister, now that David Cameron has thrown in the towel.

    I intend rowing to Nepal, where I will live out the rest of my days as a goat!

    • tenwhiskey says:

      Mike, Mike. Just row across the chunnel to the wonderland of France. Although as a goat they’d probably ship you off to Algeria.

      Thanks for reading, however.

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