everything's perfect

i'm everyone's dad me, i'm the bloke who shout's at my kid's when they get hurt, what's all that about then? instead of cuddling them and comforting them, i just shout and swear at them, i get angry that they are hurt, what a twat,  i'm feeling my dog's pain, i've had two day's off to look after him, he's a grumpy fucker, bit me big time, i must be getting old, i didn't see it coming, a low, gutteral growl and then? bang! he's got me, gripped and shaking, it's half past whatever and i'm done, i've tried sleeping with him on the sofa, on the floor, put him in the cage, in his basket, he's rattling the cage wall with his plastic 'his master's voice' anti-gnaw collar like a prisoner on death row rattling the bar's on his cell, i'm bleeding, he's bleeding, mr's b wakes from her beauty sleep at the row, comes down stairs and takes over, even dog's need their mum's, she send's me to bed and takes control, [even pissed-off jack russell terrier's know they have met their match against a scottish bird sufering from a lack of sleep] the cut-down o.e.m brake disc is a perfect spacer, mounting the four-pot brembo takes a little more figuring out, a two-angled cut on the miller should suffice, as long as the spokes don't hit the caliper and we don't break through into the piston sweep, fly-cut and offered up. it's looking good, excuse me, need to get back to my dog now, i'm sure you understand.......