Complete Bullochs...

...I spent most of the day up to my man-tits in fresh liquid manure, immersed, also, in the arcane world of the buying and selling of cattle.

Bullocks, heifers, bulls and bullshit, when all I wanted to be doing was being one hour away, helping a friend whose world has turned to shit practically overnight.

One of my besties (probably my actual bestie, got a notice to quit this morning.
On her birthday, for fucks sake, not that landlords even know or care.

She is, among everything else, a good(ish) tenant, always pays her rent and bills, a truly single (and singular) mother working all the hours sent to keep a roof over the heads of herself and her amazing son, despite a life of knock-backs and fall-downs, capricious fate and simple malady.

She does not go to the pub, nor the nightclub. She hasnt been to the cinema in decades. She has no new clothes. I am sure that she wears two pairs of tights at the same time, because each pair has a hole in them. She would go hungry for her son. I know this, because I know her.

She is a single mother who has survived unspeakable hardships and deprivations with a smile and a nod to her fantastic sons future. She has made innumerable sacrifices, bent rules, and pulled strokes to ensure that her chap gets the best from this shitty life.
So far she has succeeded, with the chap in a good school,playing rugby like a born pro, bringing home term end reports that would make any parent proud.

I love this girl.

And now some asshole landlord threatens all of this, forcing her to move, to move her son from the school that he shines in, to disrupt a good life hard fought for, a home that is cherished by them both, a haven hard gotten.

I hope for that cocksucker landlords sake that I dont find out where he lives.

I would hate to have to show him the error of his ways.

Happy Birthday, Ammo.