At Least When it Comes to These “Kids”
Michele, in one of her patented ways to bring a blast from the past back to the fore, turned me on to this and this, which, combined, led me into the grey matter and rumination, which is, usually, a very bad thing. So I dove in over my head. WTF? Better than kicking Jarvis.
I had written a huge, honking beast of a piece of bluster, but then I read it [Ed: That's my job! TC: Right...where the fuck you been lately? And for now on your name is Myron], and realized it could be summed up quite succinctly:
Get off your asses you punkass loser motherfuckers. Life is short, dickwads, then you die, and if you keep this kind of shit up, no one will miss your sorry ass.
(I had done a whole frickin’ Beach Boys “In My Room” … woe is me…I been there…fuck that. These “twixters” are losers who I wouldn’t even let my dogs bite.)
