webbykevin
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 29, 2010
- Messages
- 1,723
Arrrrrrrrrg... I just had a flashback to my childhood in England, scout camps, jolly jamborees, holiday activities for the beige, sunday school, pedophile vicars, frozen rainy mornings walking to school in the half grey light of a winters bleak and miserable gloom.
Thrashings!!!, I bet a lot of you modern young whipper snappers have never had a good thrashing, (A good sound one with with a cane across frozen fingers and buttocks) which is sad because it would probably do you good, instead of wrapping little johnny up in cotton wool and rushing out get him pumped full of Ritalin because he refuses to concentrate on anything for more than 3 minutes, that's not a mental illness it's a discipline problem ! the little brat needs its fingers stinging for an hour with birch welts, that would give the little poof something to think about that isn't switch offable with the press of a remote. Give them a hiding instead of a new wii game and a bucket of chicken wings fried in butter to stuff there mollycoddled faces into.
Being forced to wear cardigans and brown sensible shoes as we were made to endure Methodist sermons about guilt, sin, immorality and more guilt, did I mention guilt ?, lol, Fuzzy Felt bible stories and adults in crimpolene safari suits and big sunday best hats singing religious nursery rhymes in a freezing church hall paid for by the tithes and grovellings of the weakest and most gullible among us.
Upturned scabby faces of a dozen trembling waifs with their heads all painted purple cos they had ringworm all singing "Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" in a land where isolation, cold and misery had banished the sun forever.
I once was dragged to a christian weekend adventure outing for boys on Dartmoor where no one had warm enough clothing, it rained constantly, the sandwiches were spam and tomato sauce and the guy in charge was a sadistic sick twisted pervert that would have been thrown out of Al Quaida for cruelty. Not content with bullying the smaller children until they were shaking puddles of fear, This bastard had us do an 8 mile hike to the top of Hounds Tor, marching in single file through a blizzard, and the song we were all beaten into singing on this death march of the damned ???
"THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE"
Thrashings!!!, I bet a lot of you modern young whipper snappers have never had a good thrashing, (A good sound one with with a cane across frozen fingers and buttocks) which is sad because it would probably do you good, instead of wrapping little johnny up in cotton wool and rushing out get him pumped full of Ritalin because he refuses to concentrate on anything for more than 3 minutes, that's not a mental illness it's a discipline problem ! the little brat needs its fingers stinging for an hour with birch welts, that would give the little poof something to think about that isn't switch offable with the press of a remote. Give them a hiding instead of a new wii game and a bucket of chicken wings fried in butter to stuff there mollycoddled faces into.
Being forced to wear cardigans and brown sensible shoes as we were made to endure Methodist sermons about guilt, sin, immorality and more guilt, did I mention guilt ?, lol, Fuzzy Felt bible stories and adults in crimpolene safari suits and big sunday best hats singing religious nursery rhymes in a freezing church hall paid for by the tithes and grovellings of the weakest and most gullible among us.
Upturned scabby faces of a dozen trembling waifs with their heads all painted purple cos they had ringworm all singing "Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" in a land where isolation, cold and misery had banished the sun forever.
I once was dragged to a christian weekend adventure outing for boys on Dartmoor where no one had warm enough clothing, it rained constantly, the sandwiches were spam and tomato sauce and the guy in charge was a sadistic sick twisted pervert that would have been thrown out of Al Quaida for cruelty. Not content with bullying the smaller children until they were shaking puddles of fear, This bastard had us do an 8 mile hike to the top of Hounds Tor, marching in single file through a blizzard, and the song we were all beaten into singing on this death march of the damned ???
"THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE"
