Good morning, Miss. Can I help you, Son? Sixteen today and up for fun. I’m a big boy now or so they say, so if you’ll serve, I’ll be on my way. Welcome to the House of Fun!
By Trump-era standards, this seemed a comparatively uneventful week. Hillary Clinton embarked on a public sulking tour to promote her new book while the anthropomorphic toxic waste dump to whom she lost the election continued to give us perpetual reminders about why a sulking, scapegoating closet Neocon in a pant suit would have been a far superior Commander-in-Chief. This just served to reinforce my opinion that although I understand people’s aversions to Mrs. Clinton, I cannot accept or respect anyone’s choice to have voted for her despicable psychopathic rival. The earth continued to scream its desperate disapproval of our behavior towards it with yet another mega-storm and those with the power to begin reversing the effects of global warming reacted once again by sticking their fingers in their ears and singing, “Nonny-nonny-boo-boo!” or worse, blaming gay people for their part in creating increasingly dangerous weather systems off the coast of Africa. Same old, same old. Except:
Smug, self-satisfied human pubic louse Martin Shkreli had his bail revoked and was sent to prison last night to await sentencing. No matter how much of a drag today might turn out to be, the fact that this asswipe’s day will be so much worse fills me with joy.
This weekend, I’ll be posting the results of the mind experiment, such as they are. I say “such as they are” not because anything was lacking in the responses I received but because of course, any information obtained from what was essentially an online survey cannot yield any conclusive findings, though it did point to some interesting possibilities that I will explain in the summary. Thanks again to everyone who participated. As a token of my appreciation, here’s this: