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Saturday, June 24, 2006


"How long do you reckon they're going to be?"

"I've no idea."

"I'm f**king bored."

"Me too."

We'd been sat in a layby on a hill. There were a number of UN vehicles in the layby. Halfway down the hill there were people digging.

The war had passed through the area a number of years before. There'd been a number of local atrocities - mainly committed by people from neighbouring villages who had traded with each other, drunk with each other and generally got on well. I'd never understood the localised blood letting. I could sort of understand how vicious bastards like Arkan could move into areas and terrorise the local population. But the prospect of getting one of your neighbours to castrate another one of your neighbours with his teeth before getting them to try to kill each other was a bit beyond me.

The first of the body bags came up the hill and went into the UN truck.

I was quite glad I was bored in my LandRover.


Anonymous Rob said...

I'm bored now. In Wales. People smoke in pubs, pubs close early. Its all very nasty. Ahhhhh!

12:31 am  
Blogger The Boy said...

I'm not sure which is worse, having lost your morals to the point you make others bike their neighbours balls off with their teeth, or to be so f***ing scared that you actually do it, even when you know you're going to die.

Yes, I'll second the motion for prefering to be bored in a Land Rover...

9:11 pm  
Blogger PI said...

rob - do they still close on Sundays? And US I'm happy you are bored in the Land Rover

1:32 pm  

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