5 Reasons for jacking it all in and moving into a cave

Every now and then something will happen that just plain pisses me off to the point where I think about buggering off and living in a cave.

Here’s a few reasons …

Bronson Cave

1. No more pesky SuperMarket visits – fucking nightmare trips that involve lugging the children in and out of the car – occasionally becoming a contortionist in the process when you’re not lucky enough to snag a parent/child space as loads of INCONSIDERATE TWATS use them when they don’t sodding we’ll need to. Negotiations over toys and sweets and who sits where, or why the toddler has smashed banana all over their coat and getting to the furthest corner of the place and hearing those four dreaded words ‘I need a wee’.

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2. No more having to actually travel to places for things.
Everything could be right on your doorstep. You could Grow your own veg. Just make sure you have enough bog roll, bread and booze and BOOM! You’re set.

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3. No more dealing with indicaterĀ shy twats on the roads
Perhaps it’s just because their cars are newer than my piece of crap jalopy or maybe they’re simply not making cars with indicators any more?

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4. No more extortionate child care costs
Seriously – some people pay more than their actual mortgage for childcare and still get asked for ‘donations’ for things. (*donation means ‘we fully expect you to pay this’) as if the sodding fifty quid (+) per day isn’t already enough.

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5. No more banks. Fuck them. More twats that are out to exploit people and secretly make money off them.

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Boom. Life would just be so much simpler.

I’ll probably have to suck it up and deal with all of these fuckingĀ irritating things because I find electricity, running water and central heating fairy handy.

 

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