Dear Diary,
Today as usual, I was looking for my goddamned, son- of- a- bitch wife. As I normally do, I suspected one of them lousy, good-for nothing ranch workers. I forced my way into the bunkhouse demanding to see were everyone was, checking under all the beds for that tart as well and found that Slim missing from the bunkhouse. "Yes!" I thought, time to bust the bastard's goddamn ass! So I ran quietly over to the barn and when I arrived, that god- damn punk was leaving all alone. I was so angry. That tart has been trying so hard to get in trouble, but I always say, "Stay away from those men, I mean it". I ran after Slim, I did, and saw my wife emerge from our house. "Shit" I thought. I went up to him and told him how I felt, how angry and upset I was to think he was having an affair with my wife under my very nose.
Barossa Australian Grenache wine under the brand l...
A pregnant female dog. She trusts me and thus had ...
Live! You Goddamned Son of a BitchCourse, he didn't take it, and as I tried to apologue, that crazy- ass bastard gave me back a load a cheek. Started out the door when I heard that great oaf, Lennie who just started working here, laughing he was, at me. I walked over to him, and laughed inside as the son- of- a bitch cowarded away from me. So, I socked em good. Little did I know it'd be the last punch I throw for a while. Stupid bastard was crying and yelling, till he grabbed hold of my hand. He squeezed and squeezed, and god- dammit, he bust my hand. Could have killed him right there and then, should have, but my hands are too important to me. Losing my only weapon in life, my only drug and...
Something missing?
I think this is supposed to go on a bit, I think maybe you didn't include the rest of your work. Pity, it is a very good example of an English exercise.
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