Tuesday, 28 February 2017
Why I get upset, by Stevie Haston.
Legend has it that we were Hansons, and changed to the anglicised name of Haston, to escape some normal kind of misdemeanour that makes folks immigrate sometimes in a fast fashion.
All the people who have got on my case this week about black people, Muslims, hard working Poles, and any other stupid tosh can go to hell in a hand basket.
I will climb with anybody as long as they are reasonable, and don't hate people because of their colour, or some other flavour. If your political beliefs are different from mine, and they will most certainly be, because yes I am from the Left, the deep off the screen Left, don't worry I won't eat you. But, and it's a big BUT, I might think your not kind, so don't get upset. If you are not a socialist, or if you want people like me to FUCK off back to their own country, please be aware that I might not like you, because you have no empathy, and guess what, I have no country, only a passport.
The UK was never that great for us, four of us lived in two damp rooms, with no toilet, or bathroom. Dad was often black listed for being on strike, or demanding safe conditions of work. Now that I see unelected Prime Fascist May, and the Cons dismantling the last barriers we have to a social defence for workers please forgive me for drawing some lines in my friendship criteria.
The word Slavic gave us the word Slaves, my present country of visiting, was a slave trade nation, except it was more of a business. The Knights of Saint John , the so called Hospitalers were just a business, and a crooked one most like. My Maltese name comes from Farug, ok. If you don't like it, it is not much to me, I will know you by your dislike.