Okay, international relations are at a critical point.
Someone’s nose is out of joint.
If I bomb you should you bomb me too, two can play that game.
Go on punk, make my day, I’ll blow you to smithereens.
It was ever thus, why make a fuss?
Will there be any left of us?
Here comes my bus.
I know I’m just a slob.
Someone has to do this job.
29th November, 2017