Into
The Abyss
 When
I work too long and get too little sleep
my body lets me know in no uncertain terms
that I'm reaching my limit when my
esophagus
starts
dancing
like a garter snake on the third rail...
sort of like what it's doing now. But don't
fret, I'm fine. I just need sleeeeeeeeep.
So I'm
off to bed and I'll just let you imagine
for
yourselves the sort of furious umbrage
I'm currently feeling
about people allowing children to play
with assault weapons.
Throw in a chart, a youtube video on the subject, and a voodoo doll of Mitch
McConnell if it'll make you feel better.
But one more thing before I break out my
Spider-Man pjs... I contacted my local
authorities about the
death of
my
cat,
Cuddles, fearing that his death at the
hands of cretins unknown may not have
been an isolated event. After
all,
what
if several other people reported similar
cases and I remained mum?
I'm disappointed to report that the response
was a big fat "And?". Evidently
the local gendarmes have as little regard
for the death of
pet cats as the perps themselves. The only
thing that garnered their attention was
when I mentioned
that I'd already buried him.
"What!? You can't bury pets, sir!"
Nice to know they care about something,
he said not sarcastically at all.
Have a great Labor Day weekend, dudes and
dudesses!
=Lefty=
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