The Truth Is . . . You

It's Obsequious Little Nicety-nice Girls Like Me Who Allow Assholes To Run The World: Miss Harlot O'harlots, Billionaire Phony Tree Huggers, Hypocrite Drug-snorting, Weed-puffing Peace Activists Who Fund The Mass-murdering Drug Cartels And Perpetuate Crushing Poverty In Dirt-poor Banana Republics. It's My Petty Fear Of Personal Rejection That Allows So Many True Evils To Exist. My Cowardice Enables Atrocities.

Sundays Tend To Be A Day Where Just I Do Nothing But Visit People. It's Kind Of Like Trick-or-treating.

Life's Greatest Comfort Is Being Able To Look Over Your Shoulder And See People Worse Off, Waiting In Line Behind You.

The First Rule Of Fight Club Is You Don't Talk About Fight Club.

It’s A Fun Playtime. Please, Don’t Kill It With Big Words.