ChezEnglish and proud's blog: "Just stuff"

This girl rated my pics all 7s and 6s and when i went to her profile it says that shes only 14...what happened to checking peoples profiles for age? go and have a look cos shes blocked me now cos i told her id report her for being under age Cheyenne

@ CherryTAP

In a station in the city a British soldier stood Talking to the people there if the people would Some just stared in hatred, and others turned in pain And the lonely British soldier wished he was back home again Come join the British Army! said the posters in his town See the world and have your fun come serve before the Crown The jobs were hard to come by and he could not face the dole So he took his country's shilling and enlisted on the roll For there was no fear of fighting, the Empire long was lost Just ten years in the army getting paid for being bossed Then leave a man experienced a man who's made the grade A medal and a pension some mem'ries and a trade Then came the call for Ireland as the call had come before Another bloody chapter in an endless civil war The priests they stood on both sides the priests they stood behind Another fight in Jesus's name the blind against the blind The soldier stood between them between the whistling stones And then the broken bottles that led to broken bonmes The petrol bombs that burnt his hands the nails that pierced his skin And wished that he had stayed at home surrounded by his kin The station filled with people the soldier soon was bored But better in the station than where the people warred The room filled up with mothers with daughters and with sons Who stared with itchy fingers at the soldier and his gun A yell of fear a screech of brakes the shattering of glass The window of the station broke to let the package pass A scream came from the mothers as they ran towards the door Dragging their children crying from the bomb upon the floor The soldier stood and could not move his gun he could not use He knew the bomb had seconds and not minutes on the fuse He could not run and pick it up and throw it in the street There were far too many people there too many running feet Take cover! yelled the soldier, Take cover for your lives And the Irishmen threw down their young and stood before their wives They turned towards the soldier their eyes alive with fear For God's sake save our children or they'll end their short lives here The soldier moved towards the bomb his stomach like a stone Why was this his battle God why was he alone He lay down on the package and he murmured one farewell To those at home in England to those he loved so well He saw the sights of summer felt the wind upon his brow The young girls in the city parks how precious were they now The soaring of the swallow the beauty of the swan The music of the turning world so soon would it be gone A muffled soft explosion and the room began to quake The soldier blown across the floor his blood a crimson lake There was no time to or shout there was no time to moan And they turned their children's faces from the blood and from the bones The crowd outside soon gathered and the s came To carry off the body of a pawn lost in the game And the crowd they clapped and cheered and they sang their rebel song One soldier less to interfere where he did not belong And will the children growing up learn at their mothers' knees The story of the soldier who bought their liberty Who used his youthful body as a means towards an end Who gave his life to those who called him murderer not friend

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even fought And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'